#and usually I can’t taste much later at night

[includedisco]

Title: From Guns to Roses (Chapter 5- Final)

Characters: Fadel, Style, Bison, Kant

Pairing: FadelStyle, KantBison

Fandom: The Heart Killers

Tags: First Date, Fluff, Flirting, Alternate Universe-Different first meeting, Eventual Romance,Match-maker KantBison

warnings: none

Word Count: 2,915

Summary: From unlikely date night sparks to domestic boyfriends, Fadel and Style's budding romance shocks Bison and Kant when they walk in on their cozy morning

A/N: Aaand….it's a wrap. I had fun writing this story and sharing it with you guys. Thank you so much for all your support<3

Links for previous chapters: one, two, three, four

-

Fadel doesn’t waste a second. He leans in, capturing Style’s lips in a kiss that’s soft but insistent. Their lips meet in a kiss that starts soft but quickly deepens, fueled by the pent-up desire that’s been simmering all night.

Fadel’s hands find Style’s waist, pulling him closer as the kiss intensifies. Style’s fingers tangle in Fadel’s hair, his body pressing against Fadel’s with a need that’s impossible to ignore. The world around them fades, leaving only the two of them and the heat of the moment.

For Fadel, the kiss is a revelation. It’s been a long time since he let anyone this close and even then it happen this fast, but with Style, it feels natural. There’s a warmth in Style’s touch that melts the walls Fadel has built around himself. He feels a surge of something he can’t quite name—relief, desire, maybe even hope. Style’s lips are soft, his movements confident yet gentle, and Fadel finds himself wanting more.

Style, on the other hand, is overwhelmed by the intensity of the moment. He was attracted to Fadel from the start, but he didn’t expect this—the way Fadel’s hands feel on his waist, the way his kiss makes Style’s chest ache with longing. For a moment, Style forgets to breathe, his mind spinning with the realization that this is real.

Fadel wants him. Him. The thought sends a shiver down his spine, and he presses closer, savoring the feel of Fadel’s body against his.

When they finally pull apart, both are breathless, their foreheads resting together. Style’s lips curve into a mischievous smile. "I’m a good kisser, right?"

"I’m a good kisser, right?"

Fadel shakes his head, a smile tugging at his lips. "You ruined it by saying that."

"Ah, so I am a good kisser. I just ruined it by pointing it out."

Fadel kisses him again, silencing Style’s words and savoring the taste of his lips. This time, the kiss is slower, more deliberate. Fadel’s hands trail up Style’s back, pulling him even closer, while Style’s fingers brush against the nape of Fadel’s neck, sending a thrilling rush through him

When they finally pull apart, their breaths mingle in the narrow space between them. Style’s lips curve into a soft, dazed smile, his eyes half-lidded and glowing with warmth. Fadel’s chest rises and falls as he studies Style’s face, his usual stoic expression replaced by something softer, something raw and unguarded.

Style breaks the silence first, his voice barely above a whisper. "Well... that was worth the wait."

Fadel’s lips twitch into the faintest smile, his thumb brushing against Style’s cheek. "Yeah," he murmurs, his voice rough but tender. "It was."

They stay like that for a moment longer, their foreheads resting together, their hearts beating in sync.

*****

Later, Style insists on going to an ice cream parlor, claiming he has a sudden craving- which then reminds Fadel of Style talking about pregnancy earlier.  Fadel is left is disbelief that his mind actually went there.

He reluctantly agrees to the ice cream parlor thing, already dreading it. Inside the parlor, Fadel is immediately assaulted by the bright, fluorescent lights that make his eyes ache. The place is packed with loud kids and teenagers, their laughter and chatter echoing off the walls.

The tacky décor, cheap plastic furniture is sticky under his fingers, and the smell of sugar and artificial flavors hangs heavy in the air. Fadel feels like he’s trapped in a child’s birthday party.

But Style seems completely at ease. They are seated at a table that’s tucked in a corner because Style wants to people-watch. Fadel’s expression a mix of discomfort and resignation as he looks around. He can’t help but notice how out of place Style looks in his red-breasted milk cow outfit, yet somehow, he fits right in with the absurdity of the place.

Meanwhile, Style is in his element, his eyes lighting up as he scans the menu. Fadel declines eating dessert of any sort while Style orders himself some vanilla and blueberry ice cream.

For a moment Fadel watches as Style enthusiastically digs in.

"You don’t look like a mechanic at all," Fadel says, trying to distract himself from the sticky seat and the cacophony around them. "How did that happen?"

For the first time tonight, Style hesitates. The reaction makes Fadel wonder if he’s touched a sensitive subject.

"I’ll tell you that sad story on our second date," Style says, offering a small smile.

Fadel regrets asking. "You don’t have to tell me if you’re not comfortable."

"I guess they don’t teach you to read between the lines in murder school," Style teases. "I’m trying to really cement the second date plan. I’ll try to be direct with you."

"That’s probably best."

"I became a mechanic to support my dad’s business," Style explains. "There was a time he couldn’t keep the place running because of personal matters. I had to step in."

"What did you want to become?"

"I wanted to study law. I have the smooth tongue to win arguments by confusing the opposing counsel."

"Do you still plan to study?"

"No. That time has passed. I like working with my dad at the garage." Style pauses, then adds, "We are each other’s only family and so, we need each other."

Fadel realizes that beneath Style’s fluffiness lies a depth he hadn’t expected. The pain in Style’s eyes is evident, and Fadel wants to know more—about his past, his dreams, what drives him.

"You’re a good person and a good son," Fadel says, his voice sincere. "Your dad must be proud of you."

Style blushes, his smile softening. "So, will you go out on another date with this good son? You never answered me on that rooftop."

Fadel nods firmly. "As long as you promise not to bring me to a place like this again. My butt is stuck to my seat."

Style laughs, the sound bright and genuine. "It’s sticky, I know. Sorry." He scoops up some ice cream and holds it out to Fadel. "Try it. It’s delicious."

Fadel hesitates, then sighs and accepts the bite. It’s not bad. Maybe the moral of the moment is that he won’t die from trying new things. After all, he pushed through his initial impression of Style and stayed this far on the date.

“Tell me about your family, Fadel.”

“You’ve met him.”

“Bison?”

Fadel nods his head.

“What about your parents?”

“Like you said, let’s reserve the heart-to-heart for our second date.”

After the ice cream place, Style and Fadel step out into the cool night air. Style reaches for Fadel’s hand, his fingers intertwining with Fadel’s as they walk. Fadel doesn’t pull away. Instead, he tightens his grip, a silent acknowledgment of the connection growing between them.

"Your place or mine?" Style asks, his tone playful but his eyes searching Fadel’s for an answer.

Fadel hesitates for a moment, then nods. "Mine. It’s closer."

They drive to Fadel’s place, their hands still linked, and in that time, Style tells Fadel a story about how his bad habit of texting and driving habit recently led to a fender bender car accident.

When they reach Fadel’s house, Style’s eyes widen as he takes in the spacious, well-decorated interior. The living room is sleek and modern, with large windows that let in the soft glow of the city lights. The furniture is minimal but elegant, and the space feels warm despite its size.

"Wow," Style says, his voice filled with genuine admiration. "This is... amazing. I didn’t expect it to be so... you."

Fadel raises an eyebrow. "What’s that supposed to mean?"

Style grins. "I don’t know. I guess I thought your place would be all dark and brooding, like a villain’s lair or something. But this... this is nice. It suits you."

Fadel chuckles softly, shaking his head. Before Style can say more, Fadel pulls him into his arms, his hands resting on Style’s waist. Their eyes meet, and for a moment, the world seems to stand still. Then Fadel leans in, capturing Style’s lips in a kiss that’s long and lingering, filled with a tenderness that surprises them both.

Style melts into the kiss, his hands clutching the front of Fadel’s shirt as if anchoring himself to the moment. His heart races, his mind spinning with the realization that this is real. Fadel’s lips are soft yet demanding, and Style feels a warmth spread through him, settling deep in his chest. When they finally pull apart, both are breathless, their foreheads resting together.

"So," Fadel murmurs, his voice low and rough, "what happens next?"

Style smiles, his cheeks flushed. "I want to cuddle to sleep."

Fadel blinks, surprised. "Just cuddle?"

Style nods, his grin widening. "Yeah. Is that okay?"

Fadel studies him for a moment, then nods. "Yeah. That’s okay."

Style’s eyes widen in surprise. "Really? I thought you’d ask for more, since you brought me here."

Fadel chuckles, his thumb brushing against Style’s cheek. "Did you want more than just cuddling?"

Style laughs softly, his cheeks turning pink. "Maybe. But this is good too."

Fadel smiles, a rare, genuine smile that makes Style’s heart skip a beat. "Come on," Fadel says, taking Style’s hand and leading him upstairs.

In Fadel’s bedroom, the atmosphere is calm and intimate. The room is spacious, with a large bed framed by soft, muted colors. Style kicks off his shoes and shrugs out of his over-clothes, leaving him shitless and shorts. Fadel does the same, and they climb into bed together, shifting close until their bodies are pressed together.

The kisses start slow and tender. Fadel’s hands trail along Style’s back, his touch gentle but deliberate. Style’s fingers brush against Fadel’s jaw, his neck, his chest, as if memorizing every detail. The room is quiet except for the soft sounds of their breathing and the occasional whisper.

"You’re not what I expected," Fadel admits, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Good or bad?" Style asks, his lips curving into a smile.

"Good," Fadel says, his tone firm. "Definitely good."

Style smiles and he leans in to kiss Fadel again, deeper this time. The tension between them builds, but neither rushes. They take their time, savoring the closeness, the warmth, the connection. Eventually, their kisses grow slower, softer, until they drift off to sleep, still wrapped in each other’s arms.

The next morning, Fadel wakes first. The sunlight filters through the curtains, casting a soft glow over the room. He props himself up on one elbow, peering down at Style, who’s still asleep. Fadel’s fingers brush a strand of hair from Style’s face, his touch gentle.

Style stirs, his eyes fluttering open. When he sees Fadel looking down at him, he smiles, "Morning," he murmurs, his voice still thick with sleep.

"Morning," Fadel replies, his thumb tracing the curve of Style’s cheek.

Style giggles softly, his eyes sparkling with amusement. "We didn’t even have sex, and I’m still this giddy. What’s wrong with me?”

Fadel chuckles, shaking his head. "Nothing’s wrong with you." He pauses, then adds, "Want to shower and have breakfast?"

Style nods, but before Fadel can move, Style grabs his arm and pulls him down for a kiss. It’s a perfect start to the morning. When they finally pull apart, Style grins. "Now I’m ready for breakfast."

Later, in the kitchen, Fadel teaches Style how to make an omelet. Style watches intently, his brow furrowed in concentration as Fadel explains the steps.

"Won’t it burn if I don’t flip it?" Style asks.

"We set the heat correctly. It’ll be fine," Fadel assures him.

"Who knew there’s a whole science behind a good omelet? Does fried pork have some science involved too?"

"You’d be surprised. I’ll teach you next time."

"So I can sleep over again?" Style gives Fadel a seductive look, full of promise.

"Sure."

"Maybe next time we can do more than just cook together," Style says, his hand trailing down Fadel’s jaw. He leans in, kissing him softly.

Style successfully completes the egg omelet project with flying colors. With a satisfied smile, he moves on to making vegetable stir-fry next, with Fadel’s help

Just then, Kant and Bison walk into the kitchen, stopping short at the sight of Fadel and Style cuddled up by the stove. Kant sleeps over the night before, planning to make breakfast before heading to the tattoo parlor. The last thing either one of them expects is to find Style here, inside Fadel and Bison’s house, cuddling with Fadel, and wearing what Bison recognizes as Fadel’s t-shirt.

Kant and Bison glance at each other in shock, their eyes wide and mouths slightly agape, wordlessly asking each other what on earth is happening here. Bison clears his throat, taking a cautious step forward. The sound seems to break the spell as Style and Fadel reluctantly pull apart. Turning around, they find Kant and Bison standing there with identical stunned expressions on their faces.

“Good morning, krub,” Style enthusiastically greets them, his voice chipper and eyes sparkling with happiness.

Fadel chuckles softly at the greeting, a warmth spreading through his chest.

“Style…what are you…?” Bison asks, baffled, his brows furrowing in confusion.

“I spent the night,” Style replies with a grin, his eyes twinkling with a mix of amusement and contentment. “But don’t worry, we didn’t have sex. Not sure I’ll say the same after our second date.”

“Second date?” Bison exclaims

“Fadel suggested we go to an aquarium but I’m afraid of marine life unless it’s on my plate.” Style informs

"So... the date works out?" Kant asks, his shock evident, his voice tinged with incredulity.

Style nods vehemently, his excitement palpable. "Turns out we have stuff in common."

"Like what?" Bison asks, unable to resist his curiosity, his eyes narrowing slightly as he studies Style and Fadel.

"We’re both crazy," Style says, a playful glint in his eyes, his smile widening.

"About each other," Fadel adds, his gaze locking with Kant’s in a silent challenge, a hint of pride and defiance in his expression. He is very much convinced that Kant sent Style to him to mess with him. That’s why this moment is so satisfying for Fadel.

Kant tears his gaze away and subtly rolls his eyes.

Style taps Fadel on the shoulder to catch his attention, then lifts a forkful of stir-fry to Fadel’s lips. “How’s this?” he asks, his eyes hopeful and filled with affection.

Fadel takes the bite, savoring it before smiling and holding one thumb up at Style, his eyes shining with approval.

"Fadel, I thought you don’t like to be fed," Bison says, his voice tinged with a mix of betrayal and astonishment, like a son whose single dad just got a new girlfriend. Bison wants Fadel to be happy, and so he’s genuinely glad that things seem to be off to a great start with Style; but Bison is also feeling a little possessive about his big brother’s attention.

Fadel can’t decide whether to laugh or feel mortified by his brother’s remark. But as Style leans into him, his laughter bubbling up, Fadel realizes he doesn’t care. For the first time in a long while, he feels... happy.

Bison and Kant offer to help with cooking, but Fadel announces that the food is actually ready, and Style already helped.

As the four of them finally settle down at the breakfast table, the atmosphere is tinged with some awkwardness, some warmth and a bit of lingering surprise.

Fadel and Style sit close together, their heads bent towards each other as they talk softly, seemingly in their own world. The comfort and ease between them are obvious, leaving no doubt about their connection. Fadel’s eyes soften every time he looks at Style, and Style’s smile grows warmer with each shared whisper.

Across the table, Bison and Kant lean towards each other, their heads close as they whisper and gossip. "What are they even possibly talking about, smiling like that? I can’t think of anything," Bison says under his breath, shaking his head.

"Right?" Kant whispers back, a note of disbelief in his voice. “And them cooking together? How did that happen so fast? You and I don’t even cook together.”

Bison looks at his boyfriend, “Oh well that’s because I hate cooking and you look hot doing it, so...” He shrugs

Kant nods slowly, absorbing what Bison just said, but his mind is clearly elsewhere. “Remind me to tease Fadel later about how cheesy and domestic he’s being with Style,” he muses.

Bison smirks, but there's a note of caution in his voice. “I don’t know, Khun. He might stab you.”

Kant laughs softly, glancing at Bison, who is wearing a serious expression on his face, eyebrows raised in a no-nonsense manner.

Suddenly, Fadel turns to Kant with a stern expression and a warning in his eyes. “I heard that,” he says, “and don’t think we’re cool now just because I’m dating your best friend.”

“Fadel, why do you dislike Kant?” Style asks Fadel, his curiosity piqued.

Fadel turns to Style with a soft smile, his eyes glinting with a hint of mischief. “I’ll explain on our third date,” he promises.

“Cool,” Style replies, grinning.

Style then turns to Bison, his smile wide and infectious. “So, Bison, were you also a hitman like Fadel?”

Kant and Bison gape at Fadel, their jaws dropping in unison. “You told him you were a hitman?” they ask incredulously, voices rising in perfect synchrony.

-The End-

for real this time;D

Thank you again for reading ❤️

If you liked this story, please visit my AO3 for more.

[aroguexenolith]

Long COVID can also affect your taste and smell.

Some people lose them completely.

Some people start smelling and/or tasting normal foods and drinks as something else, often something disgusting. Imagine never being able to drink coffee because it now smells and tastes like garbage.

The version I’ve ended up with is phantosmia, or olfactory hallucinations if that helps describe it succinctly. I had a coworker who sometimes smelled smoke. For me it varies, but usually smells like garbage and spoiled dairy. Once it was the smell of strong perfume. Another time, it was stinky diapers.

I also can’t smell or taste things intermittently. I can’t smell the odor of spoiled chicken and lots of other things. Sometimes, I’ll bake my favorite cookies or spend two hours making dinner or even just grabbed my favorite soda and it doesn’t really taste like anything. Did I make my milk tea wrong this morning…? No, I just can’t taste it today.

This is all to say…these taste and smell disruptions can make your life horrible. Even in my case, where it’s inconsistent and not life-changing, it takes luster out of life. It’s like sometimes being colorblind and not being able to see the color green.

This kind of Long COVID can crop up suddenly months after the infection (for me it was about two months later), and we won’t know yet if it’ll ever go away.

What I Want You To Know About Long COVID

Well lads, I've been suffering from Long COVID for over a year now. My life is at a complete standstill. I'm 25 years old and I'm too sick to go back to school, I can't work, I had to move back in with my parents and I'm still stuck here.

Here are just a few things I wish people knew about Long COVID, including things I didn't know myself until I got it.

COVID destroys your immune system. Yes, even if you don't have Long COVID. Are you getting sick more often now? When you get sick, does it last longer? There are many studies showing that COVID causes t cell depletion, even in mild COVID cases! T cells are how your body remembers how to fight off infections you've had before so losing those cells? Bad news.

Your initial infection can be mild and you can still get Long COVID. Right from Yale Medicine, "Most people with Long COVID had mild acute COVID." (This is also a good link for a basic Long COVID overview).

There can be a gap of time between when you "get better" from the initial COVID infection to the onset of Long COVID symptoms. Some people get sick with an initial COVID infection and never get better. Some get better and then weeks or months later start developing Long COVID symptoms. Long COVID symptoms can even fluctuate over time, can go away for months and then suddenly come back.

So many people have Long COVID and don't realize it. Do you feel more tired lately but no matter how much you sleep, nothing helps? Is it harder to concentrate at work or school? Can you just not think like you used to? You could have Long COVID and not even know it. Even mild post-COVID symptoms are still Long COVID.

COVID can do anything to your body. Long COVID has over 200 recognized symptoms and can affect basically any part or system of your body. There is no one mechanism or cause of Long COVID which unfortunately also means there's no one cure either.

The effects of COVID are cumulative. Each COVID reinfection increases your chances of developing Long COVID. COVID is also affecting your body in other ways, yes, even if you're otherwise young and healthy! "Repeat COVID-19 infections increase risk of organ failure, death".

Once you have Long COVID, repeat COVID infections will make your symptoms worse. "80% [of Long COVID patients] saw their symptoms worsen [from reinfection]. In 60% of people who were in recovery or remission from Long COVID, reinfection caused a recurrence of Long COVID."

There is a lot more I want to say about Long COVID but I want to keep this post at least somewhat manageable to read. Like how when COVID is contracted during pregnancy, those COVID-exposed fetuses have a 6.3-fold increased risk of motor developmental delays, or that another study found 50% of babies exposed to COVID in utero had developmental delays.

You need to keep caring about COVID, for others around you and also for yourself even if you're "healthy". Everyone is at risk. And don't forget 40-60% of COVID infections are asymptomatic, which is why masking even if you feel fine is crucial. The only way right now to not get Long COVID is to not get COVID in the first place. It's not too late, if you've stopped masking it's never too late to start again! I know it's easy to get distracted by things in your life that seem more real than the possibility of getting sick some time in the future, and the peer pressure to not mask can be intense. But it only feels less real or less important until your entire life is having Long COVID. Trust me.

I know this is a complicated issue, many people can't afford to stay home when sick even if they want to because of their jobs, there are disgusting policies trying to ban wearing masks, but please if you can. Keep masking. Masking works, masking saves lives.

This post got a bit longer than I wanted so below the cut is a non-exhaustive list of my Long COVID symptoms and some of my experiences as one of the "healthy young people" who got "unlucky". cw brief mention of suicidal ideation.

Welcome to the Thunderdome that is my body with Long COVID. Keep in mind these are just my experiences and symptoms, Long COVID can cause any range of symptoms at varying severities.

Dysautonomia: Exercise intolerance, Post-Exertional Malaise (PEM), fatigue, and heat intolerance. What do those things mean? Here's some specific examples. Absolutely terrible circulation I am so cold all the time but also, if I get a little too warm I will pass out. Eating hot food makes my heart rate spike, I sweat, my body feels heavy. Blood pooling and pins and needles in my feet when I walk. Don't even think about exercising past walking, it's impossible. I used to work out an hour a day 4 times a week and now walking up one flight of stairs makes my heart pound and I can't breathe. Can't take even just warm showers anymore or I will pass out. Heat rashes from being in the sun for 10 minutes.

Digestive issues: Honestly too many to name but: constant bloating, extreme nausea, constipation, slow motility, lack of appetite, just so much cramping and pain. I lost 18 pounds from Long COVID, as someone who was already considered underweight their entire life, and almost had to get a shunt put into my chest to deliver nutrients because I was nearly completely unable to eat. For the first 6 months of Long COVID, if I could manage 600 calories a day, that was a good day.

Histamine intolerance: Oh boy. My worst symptoms, I don't even know where to start with it. If you know Mast Cell Activation Syndrome (MCAS) it's very similar. I can only eat 19 foods. If i eat a single bite of something not on that list, it's 48 hours of absolute hell. Coughing, migraines, itchy eyes, such extreme nausea I cannot even describe it, panic/feeling of doom, racing heart rate, derealization, rash, uncontrollable muscle tremors. I only learned about histamine intolerance 5 months into having Long COVID so before that, I was experiencing these symptoms nearly every single day. Terrifying isn't even a strong enough word to describe how it felt to experience all this and have no idea what it was, how to stop it, or if it would ever stop. Really dark times.

Neurological issues: More of that derealization. Inability to concentrate. Anxiety. OCD-like symptoms such as thoughts getting "stuck" in my head, repeating 24/7 completely unable to stop them, genuinely felt like my brain had cracked open and I had lost my mind. Constant dizziness like I'm on a boat.

Sleep issues: I sleep like garbage. I have insomnia, I wake up dozens of times every night and every single time I sleep I have intensely vivid dreams. I can't sleep longer than 7 hours total no matter how exhausted I am. It is exhausting. I'm exhausted, I'm so so tired.

And finally. Just. Really intense suicidal ideation. My body, my health, my entire life has been stolen from me because someone else decided my life was worth less to them than wearing a mask or staying home if they feel sick. Before I got Long COVID, I was preparing to go to South Korea to teach English, then on to a PhD in neurolinguistics, I was supposed to meet my long distance partner and had already booked plane tickets when I got sick. All of that has been destroyed.

Most of us with Long COVID are stuck in a cycle of being extremely sick, then if you're lucky you'll slowly get better over months, just to get reinfected and go right back where you started or worse. Honestly, I'm not scared of dying from COVID. I'm scared of living for a long time, suffering from Long COVID the entire time. This isn't living.

I don't know how to end this now. I'm still fighting, I'm trying experimental treatments, I'm not giving up yet. I hope everyone reading this stays healthy and well.

[bruciemilf]

Need a the Waynes Lived AU where Martha’s a vampire. She snuck in a Wayne Gala for a potential late night snack, but Thomas thought she was a socialite.

“So, what do you do?”

“I drain people of their life sources.”

“Oh, you’re a CEO too?”

She can’t drink Thomas’ blood because he smokes too much, the baggy eyes indicate long nights spent on his feet during surgery, which means it’ll taste bitter, and she saw him drown 10 whiskey shots in one go.

It’s a taste thing, nothing against him.

He is, how ever, very handsome, and she decided she’ll be his house cat for the time being. Fast forward two years later and they have a vampire cherub of a baby named Bruce.

Babies usually don’t come out with fangs and tiny bat wings, so, yeah. His wife’s a vampire. Cool.

“How come I’ve never seen your wife outside during the daytime, Tom??”

“How come I’ve never seen you mind your own fucking business?”

[chuluoyi]

࿐ ࿔ 🕰️ 「 03:12 A.M 」

tw: pregnancy. just a little something based on ask~ gojo annoys you on daily basis, so now you return the favor and he can't refuse it bc you're his baby mama😋

a part of gojo's love entries

“satoru— your baby is hungry,” you pouted, poking his cheek repeatedly. “sa-to-ru!!”

it was 3 in the morning, and ideally, you would have been sleeping... only that suddenly you were awoken by rumbles from your growing belly.

yet your husband was still sound asleep without any care in the world, prompting you to poke him until you succeeded in making him hear you out.

satoru begrudgingly cracked his eyes open, still having his face tucked under the blanket and yawning. “ngh, sweets… what is it?”

his sleepy voice was thick, low and raspy. usually you’d swoon and leave a hickey or two on his neck but not now, as the overwhelming hunger made you almost curl.

“baby is craving mochi,” you said, eyes shining up to him ever so innocently. “get it for me, satoruuu.”

“oh?” if he wasn’t awake before, now he was after hearing your nagging tone drawling his name. he faced you and drew you closer. “what do you want again, hmm?”

“ice cream mochi!!”

“oooh that.” satoru scratched his head at the memory of him eating the last of it yesterday. “but we ran out of them, sweetheart… wait till morning, yeah? i’ll go to market to get some.”

“but...”

“can’t baby wait a few more hours, hmm?”

“no! want it— now!”

satoru blinked at your insistence. you looked positively adorable while sulking at him too.

“why mochi all of sudden, huh?” he decided to humor you. “you used to say they taste bland.”

“that’s because of your sperm infecting me,” you sullenly accused. “and don’t pretend you haven’t been feeding me mochi for weeks. baby likes it more than i thought.”

“hey! don’t bash my sperm! they did no wrong and completed the deed splendidly!”

“you’re just a one-time donor, don’t be smug.”

he whined and you huffed, before suddenly your stomach grumbled loudly and you curled up. “mmhm.”

“hey… what’s wrong?” satoru quickly sat up and placed his hand on your baby bump. “really hungry? wait, i’ll get you something to nibble on first.”

he rummaged through his work uniform and found several bite-sized chocolate bars he brought around, and unwrapped the foil. “here.”

you immediately devoured the treat to sate your hunger, but still, your baby longed for more—

“mochi…” you mumbled despondently, your expression turning heartbroken. and one second later satoru realized how much he wanted to squeeze your cheeks, and relented.

“okay, okay, sweets~” he gave your head several comforting pats, making you look up. “i’ll go and get the mochi, yeah? you stay put and wait for me, 'kay?”

“yay.” a little smile bloomed in your face and satoru chuckled, finding you so unbearably endearing.

and so, for you, he ventured out to the closest 24-hour convenience store, picking up some ice cream mochi along with other treats to replenish your stock, before teleporting back home.

he was expecting that you'd still be all sulky while waiting for him, but instead, he found you peacefully asleep, hogging his pillow.

each breath that caused your chest to rise and fall made you appear all the more vulnerable and soft in his eyes.

you looked so irrevocably precious to him. his sweet little wife... in that moment, satoru felt like he was the luckiest man alive, getting to have you as his.

“you naughty girl.” he let out an amused laugh before reclaiming his spot next to you. the hold you had over him— you made him go through the cold night air, and now you were monopolizing his pillow and he had to resume sleeping without one at all.

and yet all he could feel was love. for you and your baby, as he pulled you close to his chest.

“both of you sure love teaming up against me, huh?”

[puck-luck]

i think … a lot … about jack getting pussy drunk and whining whenever you say you can’t take anymore bc he just needs to feel you around him at all times

warnings: sub!jack, use of “miss” in a sir!kink type way, ambiguous “is jack with another girl or not” (up to you. idc which one you choose), sex as therapy <3, begging, dirty talk, praise, references to thigh riding, multiple orgasms, overstimulation, oral m!receiving, handjob, fist-fucking, making out, pain kink, unprotected p in v (with creampie), riding, desperate!jack, spit, cum and spit as lube.

pairing: sub!jack hughes x dom!fem!reader

wc: 4,444

It was only a matter of time before Jack came crawling back to you. After all, this is what he does– he gets in a funk or a slump or whatever you want to call it, and then he spends the night with you. 

It started as a one-time thing. Then, two times. Then, it became a ritual, almost. Now… well, now, this ritual has grown into one of Jack’s most important superstitions. When he’s not playing well, he comes to see you, and he comes when he sees you, and suddenly– oh! He’s got his mojo back.

Three hours after tonight’s game, another overtime loss that you’re sure Jack blames himself for, he knocks at your door. He’s later than usual, often coming over as soon as he’s able rather than letting a few hours tick by. Still, when the door swings open and you go to greet the boy, Jack’s all over you.

He overwhelms your senses with no preamble. His hands are running over the curves of your body without a set path or plan, displacing your baggy sweatshirt and pulling at your comfortable pajama bottoms. You can taste the mumbled pleas on Jack’s tongue. The begging that doesn’t coat your tongue falls on your ears and Jack is nothing if not persuasive.

“Need you,” Jack says. He finds your hand, clutching your wrist and bringing your palm to his cock. He grinds into your touch. “Fix it. Take it all away, make me better.”

You’ve never liked the way he says that, like your touch is the true fix to every single one of his problems. You don’t like the way Jack asks you make him better because that’s not what you’re doing. Jack treats it like magic, but in reality, all you’re doing is taking control. All he’s doing is relinquishing that control for once, letting his mind finally clear after being run rampant with play after play and mistake after mistake. He doesn’t admit it to the world, but Jack beats himself up after a bad game– and after a series of bad games, he comes to you.

“Okay, baby,” you reply gently instead of scolding him, catching Jack’s hands and clasping them in your own. “Let’s go to bed. I’ll make you come.”

You lead Jack down the hall to your bedroom and you can’t help but wonder why he was late. You’ve been waiting for him for a few days now, knowing that he’s going to need you. You admittedly don’t keep up with the Devils because you’re a fan. In reality, you don’t care about hockey all that much. The exception, as it always seems to be, is Jack Hughes.

Once inside your bedroom, you sit on the foot of the bed. Jack stands before you, eyes darting around the room and coming back to you awkwardly. You tilt your head to the side and fall back into the same role that Jack needs– the authoritarian, telling him what to do. “Are you going to undress for me?” You ask, an air of impatience painting your words. “Or are you going to stand there all night?”

Jack’s eyes widen and he blinks. He pushes a hand through his hair, saying, “Yeah– yes,” before he pulls his shirt over his head by the back of his collar and rushes to remove his pants. 

Before he can remove his boxer-briefs, you stop him and beckon him closer. Jack steps forward, between your legs and looks down at you, chest rising and falling evenly, albeit a little fast. 

You fit your palms over his thighs and feel him out over the briefs. The strong muscles of these thighs– fuck, you remember the first time you took control, when Jack had finally broken after minutes of trying to maintain a shred of dignity and begged to have his cock inside of you, needing to feel you, but you’d denied him and continued to rut against his quads until you came. Jack had been left straining in his shorts, and when you switched to his other thigh to make it just as damp as the first, he’d come with just one brush of your hand against his length. 

You scratch down his thighs and Jack whimpers, his eyelids fluttering at the sensation. Like a good boy, his hands are clasped behind his back. He’s allowing you to do whatever you want– something that you’ve proven, time and time again, is better than when Jack manhandles you onto the bed and takes what he needs. In making him wait, and in making him practice a bit of self control, you give him something he can’t find anywhere else. 

Which is why you think he’s here today. Late.

“What took you so long, sweetheart?” you ask, bringing your index finger to the waistband of Jack’s briefs and tracing the lettering there. “I’ve been waiting for you to come see me.”

Jack lets out a breath, his head dipping shamefully. He refuses to meet your eyes.

“Jack,” you say, your tone growing sharp. “Tell me.”

“I don’t want to,” Jack replies. His voice is pouty. “It’s embarrassing.”

You withdraw your index finger from the band of his shorts and bring it to the front of his underwear, tracing over the line of his cock. “Jack,” you repeat, scolding him. “You know that you don’t have to be embarrassed in front of me.”

Jack just whines in the back of his throat, shaking his head. His hair falls forward, into his eyeline, but he doesn’t remove it. He uses the curtain to hide his face even further.

You pump his cock once over the front of his briefs, then pull the waistband down an inch. The tip of Jack’s cock, hard and red and leaking already, becomes visible. Then, you pull back and lean back on the bed, propping yourself up by your elbows. You’re still fully clothed and your legs are crossed, whereas there’s a blush starting to creep down Jack’s neck.

“I can’t touch you until you tell me, baby,” you tell Jack. His eyes find yours, his head barely tilting up, and he already looks betrayed. To make matters worse, you bring your right hand to your stomach, then push it up further beneath your sweatshirt. You sigh and roll your head back as your thumb and index finger find your nipple, pinching it and rolling it beneath the fabric. Just because you can’t touch Jack doesn’t mean you can’t touch yourself.

“Y/N,” Jack protests weakly. He wants your attention back. Sweet boy– he’s never been able to watch you pleasure yourself without feeling left out and neglected. Still, he stands before you with his hands clasped behind his back, cockhead peeking out from his waistband. A dribble of precum has bubbled from his slit and fallen down the underside of his tip, path completely visible to you.

“That’s not what you call me when we’re together like this,” you correct in a bored voice, raising your eyebrows at Jack and bringing your hand to your other nipple.

“Miss,” Jack corrects in a rushed voice. “Please.”

You’ve never been a fan of the word Mistress, feeling like it’s too 1800s-Evil-Vampire, and while you love to take care of Jack, you’re not exactly his Mommy. You’d gotten the idea to be ‘Miss’ when you’d teasingly said “Yes, sir,” to Jack after a session, and he’d slurred out a little fantasy about letting one of his teachers reward him for doing well on a test. Everything seemed to click into place and you’ve been ‘Miss’ ever since. 

“Baby, I’m not touching you until you tell me why it took you so long to see me,” you remind him. You take your hand from beneath your sweatshirt and lean back on it, in the same position as before. “Tell me now and I’ll even get my lips around your cock, J.”

Another blurt of precum rises from his slit, his cock twitching in his briefs. “Please, I can’t say it,” Jack fusses, looking away from you and shifting uncomfortably. “I don’t– it’s just stupid.”

“Oh, honey,” you simper, coming back to a sitting position. “That bad?”

Jack doesn’t reply.

You’ve known all along what the problem is– or, at least, you’ve suspected. It wasn’t long after your last hookup that Jack told you he’d started talking to a girl and that he wanted to see if something could work out with her. You hadn’t really minded. It wasn’t like you and Jack were dating or exclusive; you dom him when he needs it and other than that, you don’t talk. It’s pretty much the definition of a ‘working relationship.’

You lean forward and press your lips to Jack’s tip, a chaste and sweet kiss that you might even give his lips when he’s being good for you, or when he needs that extra reassurance. “Let me guess, baby,” you say. “You tried this with her, didn’t you?”

The tips of Jack’s ears turn redder and he nods, in tiny, aborted movements.

Sympathy floods your being. “Oh, sweetheart,” you say with another kiss, flicking your tongue over his slit to collect the precum. “She wasn’t able to take care of you the way I can?”

Jack shivers and shakes his head. 

“Poor thing.” You pout at him, then bring your lips to his v-line and kiss there. “Don’t worry, baby. I’ll make you feel better. I’m here.”

You kiss down his abdomen again, finding his tip and fitting your lips over it gently. You suck his cock methodically. You’re not moving up and down. You’re not sucking gently, then harshly. You’re just consistent, creating suction around his tip that slowly brings him closer to the edge. You blink up at him, watching as Jack’s breathing grows more rapid and he has to roll his head back on his shoulders and look up at the ceiling to compose himself. You bring a hand down between his legs and find his balls, palming them and rolling them in your hand.

“Gonna–” Jack warns, his hips twitching. 

Moving for the first time, you nod. You squeeze his sack too, just for that extra confirmation, and because you know that it makes Jack jump. 

He spills over your tongue, a wanton breath leaving his mouth. His legs are a little shaky as you continue to swallow against him, continue to fondle him over his briefs. It’s only once his breath evens out that you draw back and instruct him to lay on the bed.

Jack follows your directions easily, happy and placated from his climax. He lays back on the pillows, lifting his hips when you tuck your fingers into the sides of his waistband and start to remove the briefs. 

You pull your sweatshirt off and fit yourself against Jack’s side, rubbing your palm along his torso before bringing it to the side of his face. Jack’s eyes are hooded and his smile is relaxed, turning to face you because of your guided hand. You bring your lips to Jack’s, rewarding him silently for the way he handled his orgasm. He didn’t thrust into your mouth, nor did he shoot off without warning you. He followed your lead and did everything right.

You continue to touch Jack’s torso as you kiss him, growing bolder in both areas. As you lick over his bottom lip, which is chapped and broken from his incessant worried chewing, you thumb over his nipple. That draws a hum from Jack, so you do it again, feeling the sound vibrate between your bodies and rumble against your lips.

The kisses are lazy and Jack is insatiable but submissive, sucking on your tongue and capturing your lips sweetly because you’re allowing him to do so.

“Thank you, Miss,” Jack murmurs against your lips. 

“You’re welcome, J,” you reply at the same volume. “But we’re not done yet, angel.”

“No?” Jack asks, pulling away with a smile. 

“Mm-mm,” you say. You bring your lips back to his, then loop a leg around his. The crotch of your shorts brush his thigh, but you’re not planning to do anything with his thighs today. “Just relax and keep kissing me, baby.”

You take his hand and bring it to your chest, encouraging Jack to play with your tits over the lacy white bralette you’d been wearing under your sweatshirt. He enthusiastically does so, shifting his body closer to yours so that his reach isn’t at an awkward angle. Jack’s thumb finds your nipple almost immediately, already hard from how aroused you get seeing him like this, and he toys with you.

At the same time, you’re starting to toy with him. It starts with a light brush over his cock, which is fighting hard to become fully stiff again. You trace your fingers over his tip, mapping the organ as if you don’t know it intimately by now. It’s when you rub a finger over his slit that Jack’s cock jumps and really starts to react. 

“Fuck,” he breathes out against your mouth, eyelids fluttering open. “That feels good, Miss.”

“Hm, yeah?” you ask. You rub his slit again, letting your fingernail catch on the divot. Jack’s abdomen tenses and he moans. “Are you going to get hard for me again, J?”

“Yeah,” he agrees easily, thrusting his hips up tentatively and pinching your nipple.

“Oh, you want to fuck my hand?” You loop your fingers into a circle around his base, then drag them up to the middle of his shaft. “Make yourself feel good ‘til you’re ready to come again for me?”

Jack’s eyes light up. “Yeah,” he repeats. “Can I?”

You chuckle fondly pushing yourself up onto your elbow and planting a kiss on the tip of Jack’s nose. “Yeah, baby. Show me how bad you want to come, okay? Don’t stop ‘til you’re almost there.”

Jack nods, his head swiveling up and down until you give his cock a squeeze and prompt him to begin. It’s then that his head falls back on the pillows and his hips start to move, abdomen flexing and tensing with each thrust. 

You watch his stomach for a minute, watch the abs appear and soften with each twitch of his hips. Jack’s cock is steadily, but surely, coming back to its full length. His breath hitches on a particularly rough thrust, faltering until you tilt your chin up and smooth a kiss onto his neck, right over his pulse point. Jack gasps and begins to pump his hips harder, faster.

“Shit.” He chokes on the word as you suck a bruise onto his neck, your movements slow in contrast with his own. “Do you want me to–”

“Does it feel good, my love?” you ask, whispering the pet name in Jack’s ear before nibbling on his earlobe. You know how crazy he goes for it, even despite knowing that you both crave nothing more than what you have in bed, in this relationship. Jack isn’t your love, but nothing makes him fuck you like hearing you say that.

His breath turns into a weary pant. “Fuck, Miss, I’m going to come if you say things like that,” he whines, his hips blurring in your peripheral vision. You’re watching the sweat bead at his hairline and his eyes squeeze shut in pleasure, especially as he gets close.

“Make yourself come all over my fist, J,” you command sweetly, tightening your grip on his cock until Jack’s mouth falls open and his head tips back. His hips never stop moving, not even when the first spurt of cum escapes from his slit and starts to run over your fingers.

Jack is making sweet little noises as he uses your fist to extract all the cum from his cock, whimpers that have you pressing kiss after kiss to his neck, jaw, and cheek. 

“So good, baby,” you praise under your breath, just loud enough that Jack can hear it. “That was perfect. My sweet boy, coming for me just like I asked.” 

He needs praise when he comes to you, and you’re never shy about giving it to him. In the beginning of your relationship, it was hard for Jack to listen to your commands and anticipate what you wanted. It was hard for him to be good, even though he wanted to satisfy you. Jack had been active for years before he met you, and he was always an equal partner or the more dominant person in those relationships. With you, it’s the first time that he’s been so reliant on another person to bring him pleasure, to know what’s best for him. It took time, but you’ve both figured it out by now– and you know what he needs.

So when his hips stop moving, and his breath starts to even out, you use the cum on your hands like lube. You keep stroking his cock, your grip as tight as it was when he came. 

“M-” Jack stutters, his eyes wild when he finds yours. “Miss?” he asks.

“Hm?” you reply, focusing on his cock and the way that you’re preventing it from softening, continuing the stimulation so that it remains erect.

“Fuck- it, oh my God,” Jack lets out, his breath heaving out of him like he’s been punched. 

“What is it, baby?” you ask, pretending like you don’t know exactly what you’re doing. You’re not a fool– you know that it’s hard for men to come multiple times in a night, much less one right after the other. That sort of thing feels impossible, biologically unfathomable, but you’re determined to pull a third from Jack tonight.

“It- it’s too much,” Jack whines out, voice breaking. “Miss, fuck, that’s too much.”

“Do you want me to stop?” you ask, twisting your hand around his tip before pressing the tip of your thumb to the crown of his cock. You press into the underside, massaging the sensitive skin, and stare at Jack expectantly.

“No, fuck, keep touching me,” he begs, despite the way his hips are twitching on the bed, away from your touch. “I can- I can come again. Please, in your pussy? I’m… ‘m being good.”

“Are you?” you tease, squeezing Jack’s shaft before you resume working over him. “Or are you trying to tell me what to do?”

Jack flounders for a second, opening his mouth and closing it with no sound escaping.

You quirk an eyebrow and lean down, letting a line of spit fall onto the head of his cock. You rub a bit of the liquid against Jack’s slit, which has his eyes rolling back, and then you use the saliva to make the movement of your hand easier. 

“No, no, whatever you want,” Jack says, the words coming out in a rush. 

“That’s right,” you say. You come up and kiss his lips, plush and slack beneath your own. He’s losing himself a little bit, so you’re determined to bring him back to center. “I know you didn’t mean to demand anything, baby.”

“No, was an accident,” Jack agrees. “Didn’t mean it, Miss, honest.”

“I know, sweetheart, it’s okay,” you tell him. You kiss him again, briefly, and Jack returns it this time. He’s desperate to prove himself and demonstrate how good he can be. “I was going to give you my pussy anyway. Do you want to make me come, J?”

“Yes.” Jack nods, wildly, touching your sides and trying to pull at your pajama shorts. “Want you to feel good too, Miss.”

“That’s my boy,” you say with a smile. “My good boy. Always so eager to please.”

“Mhm,” Jack whines, pulling you close and kissing your neck. “Need it, need your cum. Wanna feel it around me.”

God, when he starts to really lose his inhibitions, his words sound that much better. He’s begging you and you’re not even on top of him.

His cock is still hard enough for you to slip it inside, so when you’ve managed to remove your shorts and panties, you straddle his lap. You hover above him at first, holding Jack’s base and drawing his tip through your wet folds. Despite not touching yourself so far at all tonight, you’re dripping for Jack. This– what you have going here– is incredibly sexy.

Jack bites his bottom lip to suppress a whine, which is when you finally start to lower yourself.

At first, you let his tip breach your hole. You stay there, adjusting to the intrusion and flexing your muscles around his sensitive cockhead. Jack’s bottom lip shakes from the effort of staying quiet, still trapped between his teeth, and his eyes are silently begging you to keep going. 

So you do. You continue to sink lower, and lower, taking your time with his cock. It’s a few minutes before you sink down on him until you’re flush with his hips. 

Jack takes a shaky breath and looks up at you, eyes bright and dazed from the oversensitivity he’s experiencing. You watch his pupils dilate when you clench down on his cock, then how they return to their previous size when you relax. His hair is curling in clumps over his forehead, cheeks and nose dusted in pink blush. Jack’s mouth stays open as you start to move, grinding against him. 

You keep your hands on his abdomen to steady yourself, moving your hips in sensual circles until it’s too good. You start to need more, so you begin to rise and fall on Jack’s cock, fucking yourself in short strokes at first, although they grow deeper and deeper with each pass. 

Jack’s hands come to your hips and rest there, not quite guiding your bounces but certainly feeling the way your sides flex and move. His eyes roll back into his head, mouth parted wide in a silent scream. His eyebrows draw together and he gasps for breath. 

“Does it feel good, sweetheart?” you ask coyly, knowing that Jack can’t decide how it feels. The pinch of his eyebrows spells pain, but the way his hands touch you and pull at you tells you that he wants nothing more than to have you atop him, gripping his cock with your gummy, wet inner walls. “Do you think you can come one more time for me?”

“I don’t know,” Jack admits in a shattered voice. “‘s hurting, but I want to, I wanna come…”

“Oh, it’s hurting?” Your voice is wracked in sugary-sweet, sarcastic sympathy, slowing your hips and rising off of Jack, leaving just his tip inside. You lean forward, his cock millimeters from slipping from your warmth. “I don’t want my baby to be in pain, maybe you can get me off another way.”

“No, no–” Jack yelps, his eyes flashing open and his fingers digging into your hips. He uses his strength to drag you back down onto his cock, until it’s sheathed inside of you again. “No, Miss, please, I’ll be good– I promise I can come again, please, I need your pussy–” He thrusts up once just to show you that he can, cutting himself off with a loud moan.

“Begging for me, J?” You tease, touching his bottom lip and rocking your hips.

“Yes, Miss, fuck, I need it, I need to be inside you, can’t be good without you,” Jack babbles, saying everything that comes to mind. His hips are still moving into yours and it feels good, and he’s so desperate to show you what he can do, that you don’t berate him for taking matters into his own hands. 

You lean down to kiss him, squishing his cheeks together between your thumb and fingers. Jack whimpers and kisses back, his thrusts more like involuntary shudders. His tip brushes your g-spot and, in a welcome turn of events, stays there. It nudges your spot with each aborted thrust, bullying the spongy area inside of you and making your own mouth fall open.

Jack licks inside. “Please,” he keens before tangling your tongues. His hips pull you down, in time with the shallow movements. “Miss, please.”

“Keep going, baby, you’re going to make me come,” you tell Jack in a soft voice, petting over his features and smoothing his sweaty hair out of his face. You touch his lip again and slide a finger onto his tongue, which Jack takes and sucks like he’s latching onto your nipple. Your stomach jumps at the sight and you sigh, a noise that spurs Jack on even further. 

He clutches your sides desperately and breathes heavy around your finger, his mouth falling open when you squeeze his member with your cunt. You take advantage– removing your finger from his mouth and lowering down until your lips are an inch away. You gather some spit in your mouth, emulating the Jack that you see on the ice whenever you watch him play, and direct the wad toward his tongue.

Jack seizes when it hits, his cock pressing as deep into you as it can go. Cum flows from his tip, a weak stream from having come twice already in the night, but it fills you regardless. It hits your spot, and Jack’s cock jumps inside you, unable to stop twitching from oversensitivity. 

As his eyes go starry, probably seeing white from the strength of his orgasm, you fall apart on top of him. Your own climax hits you like a brick wall, making you throw your head back and grind on Jack’s length. You have to ride it out– regardless of the desperate, pained noises Jack is making– and it has never felt better.

“Miss, fuck, oh–” Jack repeats mindlessly, even after you pull him from your entrance and fall into his side. You’re a mess, leaking all over your clean sheets, and Jack is no better. He’s sweaty, covered in a light sheen, and his skin is splotchy with the blush that crawled down his neck with each orgasm. “Fuck, I… I don’t even…”

“I know, J,” you coo softly, petting over his hair. You brush your lips over his cheek. “You don’t have to say anything, angel. Let’s go to sleep, baby, let me cuddle you all night.”

Jack curls into your touch, throwing his arm over your waist and shoving his thigh between your legs. He buries his head in your neck and kisses it softly, holding you tightly until he falls asleep.

You expect that he’ll be gone in the morning, like he always is. For now, you pet his hair and whisper soft praises in his ear until his breath is even and quiet and he’s fallen asleep, body wrapped around yours.

[that-nerd-who-writes-fanfiction]

I’m not usually one for miscommunication as a trope but hear me out:

Arthur thinks he and Merlin are together because Merlin says shit like “you’re my destiny” and “two sides of the same coin” fairly often.

He even looks fond or proud whenever he calls Arthur a prat, and pet names never suited them. He considered it once but it just felt weird. “Idiot.” Changed to “Idiot <3” when they finally got together and that suits them much better than Darling or Babe or whatever else.

And it’s not like he doesn’t say romantic stuff back, all: “you’re the bravest man I ever met.” Or “you’re the best friend I have and I couldn’t bare to lose you”

Meanwhile, Merlin pinpoints the same moment Arthur believed they started dating as when Arthur started acting more affectionate and Merlin’s crush got dialled up to 11.

Arthur doesn’t seem to mind, so he pushes his luck occasionally and will hug Arthur after a long day or will lean on him if they’re eating together on a hunting trip. Merlin absolutely cherishes these moments, but he’s secretly wishing they meant as much to Arthur as they do to him. (Spoiler alert: they do.)

So they must be together, Merlin just can’t be bothered with titles and with everything that happened, Agravane and Morgana betraying him, it would be ideal to wait for an announcement of their relationship.

He gifts Merlin clothes, new boots, will leave flowers in his chambers and asked for the cook to make more of Merlin’s favourites so he can steal food from Arthur’s plate because he claims it tastes better when it isn’t his food.

Arthur gave Merlin his mother’s sigil, for crying out loud. They’re obviously together.

And even better, (you can pry demi or ace Arthur from my cold dead hands) they don’t even need to be intimate beyond the occasional hug or soft gestures like Merlin brushing the hair from his face before Arthur goes to sleep at night and Arthur doing the same whenever they’re not in the castle and sleeping next to each other. He was worried at first, but Merlin never expected it, which Arthur just takes as: “And how stupid to worry? who knows him better than Merlin? Of course he would already know Arthur didn’t feel comfortable with that sort of stuff.”

Then one day, a delegation comes to Camelot and one of the foreign knights is flirting with Merlin. Arthur sees, and he doesn’t usually feel any need to act on his jealousy because he trusts Merlin, but this knight isn’t flirting in the way Gwaine does that’s just part of who he is, and Merlin looks uncomfortable. So he calls Merlin over to him, starts acting like a prat, and keeps Merlin “busy” all night by keeping his goblet full or usual servants duties.

Then later, Merlin thanks Arthur but says he doesn’t need to worry and he can handle himself. Arthur, finally relaxing after being ready to start a fight for the past three hours, pulls Merlin into a hug and kisses his forehead, because let the medieval gays be soft sometimes. He whispers something like, “I know you don’t like talking about it, and that you’ve said you don’t need a title, but you shouldn’t have to handle everything on your own.”

Merlin pulls back, looking shocked and confused. Then they actually have to talk about everything.

Merlin’s just fine with actually dating the guy he’s got a massive crush on and now he’s more willing to instigate hugs and affection. (Arthur just thought Merlin wasn’t going to push him to not make him uncomfortable but secretly wishes that he would instigate more) They end up sleeping in the same bed in Camelot too, because cuddles and softness, something Arthur wanted for a while but didn’t know how to ask for.

Basically all the problems in the relationship that Arthur was worried about but kinda felt “it’s already more than I could hope for” so didn’t want to bring up get worked out naturally and Merlin, who was previously worried about his friendship getting ruined if they changed the dynamic too much, is shocked by how little actually changed now that they’re together. He just gets to hold Arthur’s hand, can be less subtle about stealing from his dinner, gets to relax and gets an Arthur that’s more clingy and soft now that Merlin knows he’s allowed to reciprocate affection.

They still tease each other, they’re still two idiots sharing a braincell that they occasionally give to Leon to babysit, they’re just more open about being in love now. (More open to each other, anyway. Literally everyone else in Camelot knew long before they did)

Bonus points if they’ve been talking about their relationship and having the important conversation with each other the entire time, just without actually talking about it. Merlin asking why Arthur suddenly changed how affectionate he is and Arthur saying he thought he was allowed. Merlin’s just like “cool, as long as you’re okay. I’m glad you’re feeling more comfortable and relaxed.” And glad there’s no love spells or anything sinister going on. Arthur says he doesn’t like Merlin flirting with Gwaine, even if he doesn’t mean it, and Merlin agrees to stop if it makes him uncomfortable. He doesn’t think too much into it, just thinks Arthur doesn’t like the casual flirting and believes that relationships are important so casual stuff isn’t super comfortable. Merlin is still friends with Gwaine, just makes less jokes about going home with or marrying him.

Like, they’re having entire conversations and maintaining a fully functional healthy relationship, they’re just fucking idiots at the same time.

[innerfare]

Going Down On You - Part 3 

Summary: how they go down on you

Characters: Robin, Nami, Koala, Reiju, Ichiji, X. Drake

Genre: pure smut

CW: NSFW // oral sex, shameless dirty talk, Robin devil fruit shenanigans, toxic Ichiji

——— 

Robin: 

Spawns hands to hold you down while she has her way with you, mercilessly tonguing your cunt until you’re begging her to stop because you’re overstimulated. She’s much more into overstimulation than she is into teasing, and will often use a vibrator on you after making you cum on her tongue because she wants to drag your pleasure out as long as possible, obsessed with the little sounds you make when you can’t even form words. 

She also uses her devil fruit ability on you, has most definitely spawned a tongue while you were all alone in a room, directly into your panties. Once did it while you were not alone, the entire crew together and laughing over nonsense at dinner, something warm and wet suddenly poking into your clit and massaging your most sensitive spot. It quickly got to the point you had to excuse yourself to the bathroom because you couldn’t contain your moans any longer. 

“You looked to be having quite the difficult time at dinner,” she giggles when the two of you are alone later that night. “I think Nami was suspicious.” 

Another time, you were alone in the bathroom when a pair of hands wrapped around your ankles. You tripped and fell into a cloud of hands, which proceeded to twist you into a pretzel as several tongues appeared, two licking at your nipples while two more battled for your cunt, one eventually slipping down to your ass. Many of your most powerful orgasms have been the result of Robin using her devil fruit power for evil rather than good. 

Nami: 

Her absolute favorite is to 69, and she’s the top- always. She loves it because she can hold your legs apart, your body trapped between hers and the mattress, and wiggle her hips in front of your face to tease you, lifting her hips just as you try to push your tongue between her folds, telling you, “come on, you can do it,” when your tongue doesn’t reach. She does other things to tease you, too, such as biting your inner thighs and spitting on your cunt only to do nothing with it, laughing when you complain. 

“You’re being ridiculous,” she’ll scold you with a laugh. “This is why I don’t let you on top. You clearly can’t handle it.” 

While you moan into her pussy, she’s usually attacking your clit, only to bite your thighs again when you say you’re about to cum. She doesn’t tease you too much, but she always does it just a little, going on a bit of a power trip but never abusing her position too much (unless you ask; she’d definitely make you regret it if you did). 

Sometimes, after she uses a vibrator on you, she’ll go down on you just to clean up the mess you made. She gets a little too into the taste of you, though, and usually ends up working you up to another orgasm. Side note: she has most definitely pushed her tits between your legs before, or else had you grind on them before riding her face; she’s come up with all sorts of ways to use them to gets you off and has even held a vibrator to her chest and made you ride it. 

Koala: 

When you’re using toys on her, she’s very much a bottom, and even when she’s using toys on you, she acquiesces to your demands, doing whatever you say and melting especially fast when the two of you share a vibrator instead of you just using it on her. But when she’s going down on you, it’s another story. She’s a little bit obsessed with the sense of control it gives her, as well as the fact that you just can’t seem to keep your legs from shaking when she shoves her tongue in your hole.

The first orgasm she squeezes out of you is usually just with her tongue, sometimes with her fingers, too. Then, she likes to either scissor you or pull out some toys, but it’s different from when you start with toys. When she pulls them out in the middle, it’s usually because she wants to fuck you with a dildo while tonguing your clit. But other times, she really loves grinding her cunt into yours and then tasting the result. Regardless of how you end up, if you start the night with Koala’s face between your legs, you know you’re in for it. 

She also has a habit of kneeling between your legs and pushing her head between your skirt when the two of you are in public. She’ll pull you into store rooms or take advantage of empty RA classrooms, pushing you up against shelves or bending you over a desk. It’s a little habit she picked up from Sabo, wicked devil that he is, and she can’t stop chasing the thrill of someone walking in and seeing the way your bottom lip quivers when she tongue fucks you. 

Reiju: 

Reiju is so mean. Up until she got her face between your legs, you thought she was pretty sweet. Sure, you’ve heard stories of Germa 66, but she seems so much nicer than her brothers. Plus, she has butterfly wings, and how mean can a girl with butterfly wings truly be? You quickly discover the answer to that one night when her brothers are out and the two of you are alone in a sitting room in Germa’s castle. 

It all happens so fast. One minute, you’re both drinking some wine, and the next, she’s bending you over the coffee table and attacking your cunt from behind, smacking your ass and disparaging you for thinking she was so nice, pulling her tongue off your clit when your legs start to shake and you say you’re about to cum, tonguing your ass while you back down from the edge of your orgasm. 

“Did you really think I would make it that easy for you? If you want to cum, you’re going to have to work for it.” 

You don’t know how long she teases you before letting you cum on her tongue, but as you soon learn, it’s not unusual. Reiju is always mean when she gets your panties off and bends you over something, the sight of your poor, leaking hole turning her into a pink-haired demon. She often threatens you when she’s between your legs, too, telling you she’ll turn you over to one of her brothers if you’re not a very good girl for her. And given the wicked gleam in her eye, you believe her. 

Ichiji: 

He’s actually angry about it. He’s the eldest prince of Germa, an invincible fighter and so infamous he’s a literal comic book character. And you’re supposed to be beneath him, but he just can’t get the thought of your creamy pussy out of his head. It was Niji who said it first: “I bet she tastes amazing.” His brother was near-blackout drunk and probably didn’t even remember saying it, but Ichiji remembered, the thought tormenting him until he finally snaps and throws you down on one of the castle sofas, the servants exchanging mortified looks before scurrying off. 

“Niji was right,” he mutters against your cunt, ignoring you when you ask him what he said. And Niji was right. You taste to fucking good. 

He laps at your folds with the flat of his tongue, never one to worry about wasting things yet determined not to let a single drop of your sweet, creamy juices miss his tongue. He may not be above wasting things, but he most certainly is not about greed, and you trigger greed in him the likes of which he’s never before known. 

“You’re mine, now. All fucking mine. If you even think about letting another man do this to you, I’ll fucking kill him.” You’re certain he would follow through on his threat, but you just can’t seem to pull away, not when his horrible words make your pussy throb so painfully. You’ve never had a man between your legs like this, never thought a prince could be rendered insatiable by the taste of you. 

He gets competitive about it from then on, the knowledge that the thought has at least crossed his brother’s mind while inebriated making him smirk as he removes your panties for the thousandth time, pushing your face into the pillows and pulling your ass into the air to admire what he knows others have only been able to imagine. He often ends up pulling you into the air, holding you in his arms while he drags his tongue through your cunt, you struggling to hold on to the sheets as he licks you from behind. 

X Drake: 

This man is so stern, so serious. In public, he projects strength and rigidity, and he has an almost harshness about him that he carefully maintains in order to protect both himself and the people around him, including you, his beloved. But behind closed doors, the facade falls away, and you find yourself in close quarters with a man who might just die if he can’t bury his face in your wet pussy. 

“This is all I’ve been able to think about today. If only they knew.” 

The plumed hat and domino mask both come off, as do most of his clothes, and he kneels between your legs with the intention of placing sweet kisses to your clit, only to dive in when he catches your scent. Try as he might, he just can’t help himself. And when you wrap your legs around his head, he absolutely loses it, reaching up to twist your nipples while you tangle your fingers in his coppery hair. 

He says things against your cunt, but the words are muffled between your thighs. He’s constantly going from your hole to your clit, hardly able to stick with just one thing because he wants it all, and he wants it all now. After your first or second orgasm, he’ll pick you up and drop you on the bed, taking advantage of your shaking legs to fold you up, giving himself better access to you creamy cunt.

———

Hope you enjoyed it! If you want more, you can check out my masterlist here!

[wendichester]

is it okay if I request a sam x reader where sam is secretly in love with you but reader is dating dean and music and personality wise reader is a lot more like sam?

₊˚⊹ ᰔ happier,

summary. maybe you've picked the wrong brother. sam thinks so.

pairing. unrequited lover!sam winchester x reader ft. dean winchester

wordcount. 662

notes. this honestly broke my heart a little. i am not okay ˙◠˙

The bunker’s library is dimly lit, the warm glow of a desk lamp casting shadows across Sam’s face as he flips through an old book. The faint sound of your favorite song hums from the kitchen, where Dean is cooking—or attempting to. Sam knows you must have convinced him to play it.

He doesn’t look up when you walk in, but he knows it’s you. Your scent—something faintly floral and sweet—fills the room before you even say a word. You’re always here, hanging around Dean, but it’s Sam you seem to click with when it comes to conversation, music, and shared interests. You’re like him, and it’s something he tries to bury deep down.

“Hey, Sammy,” you say, plopping down in the chair across from him with a grin.

Sam’s heart skips a beat at the nickname you’ve claimed just for him. Dean calls him “Sammy” too, but it’s different when it’s you. When it’s you, it’s softer, sweeter, like you’re letting him into a part of your world you don’t share with Dean.

“What are you working on?” you ask, tilting your head and leaning forward, your elbows on the table. Your loose flannel—Sam’s flannel, lent to you during a cold night in the Impala—is unbuttoned over a tank top, your tattoos peeking from beneath the sleeves.

“Just researching,” he says, his voice carefully neutral as he slides the book toward you. “Possible lore on the hunt.”

You nod, eyes scanning the page. You’re so focused, biting your lip like you always do when you’re concentrating. It’s one of the many little things Sam has noticed about you, the small quirks that make you who you are, that make him fall a little more every day.

“You’ve got that look,” you tease, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“What look?” he asks, his voice slightly defensive.

“The ‘I’m overthinking everything and carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders’ look,” you say with a smirk.

Sam chuckles softly, shaking his head. “Guess it’s hard to hide.”

You reach across the table, your hand brushing his briefly as you slide the book back toward him. His skin burns at the contact, and he hates himself for the way his heart aches.

Dean strolls into the room then, plates of food in hand. “Dinner’s ready,” he announces, setting a plate in front of you. He leans down, pressing a kiss to your temple, and Sam forces himself to look away.

“Thanks, babe,” you say, smiling up at Dean. Your eyes light up when you’re with him, and Sam can’t blame Dean for falling for you. He just wishes he’d had the chance first.

As the three of you eat, you and Sam inevitably end up in your usual rhythm—talking about books, dissecting song lyrics, and trading inside jokes Dean doesn’t quite get. Dean doesn’t seem to mind; he’s used to it by now, but Sam wonders if he notices how much easier it is for you to talk to him than to Dean.

Later that night, when the bunker is quiet and Sam is alone in his room, he leans back in his chair and closes his eyes.

You’re with Dean, and Sam knows better than to get in the way. Dean’s his brother, his blood, and he’d never betray him like that. But the way you fit so easily into Sam’s world, the way you laugh at his dry humor and share his taste in music—it feels like the universe is mocking him.

He pulls out his journal, the one no one knows about, and writes down a single thought before closing it and setting it aside:

“She would be so much happier with me.”

Sam sighs, running a hand through his hair and leaning back in his chair. Loving you from afar is torture, but it’s a pain he’ll endure if it means seeing you happy, even if it’s not with him.

For now, that will have to be enough.

⋆.˚ ★— read part 2

want be part of the taglist.ᐣ ⋆.˚ ★— @iloveeveryoneyoureamazing ⋆ @deans-daydream ⋆ @ariasong11 ⋆ @ambiguous-avery ⋆ @itsdearapril ⋆ @whereiwakewarm ⋆ @nymphet-quenn ⋆ @bluemerakis ⋆ @titsout4jackles ⋆ @hauntedrose555 ⋆ @chevroletdean ⋆ @dulcescorderitas ⋆ @blackmarketfruitrollups ⋆ @impala67rollingthroughtown ⋆ @nervoussystemss ⋆ @daryls-luvrr ⋆ @defnot-svnshine ⋆ @sunnyteume ⋆ @drakelover78 ⋆ @angelblqde ⋆ @mostlymarvelgirl ⋆ @whisperingdaze

[soleilapproves]

Nanami is in love with his best friend who saves him from a creepy woman. Honestly, I’m not sure what the plot is. I just wrote this because I was procrastinating my chem assignment.

Notes: reader referred to as wife

main masterlist

Nanami Kento didn’t know when he fell in love with you. Maybe it was when you giggled and pulled him out of the house to jump around in the rain with you. Or was it when you fell asleep on his shoulder after a long workday?

He didn’t know that you found so much solace in him. 

His breathing was shallow as he watched you prance around your shared kitchen, singing a generic pop song about… love, was it? Or heartache. He didn’t know or care; all he knew was that you were wearing his shirt like it belonged to you- like he didn’t spend his hard-earned money to buy something for work, and you just plucked it out of the laundry room like it had your name on it.

He half expected you to be all bashful once you turned around and saw him, but no, you just pointed the whisk you used to mix your pancake batter at him and began lip-syncing the song's lyrics to him. He scoffed as he walked around the kitchen island and held on to your waist. Your singing slowed down as his grip tightened on you.

“What? You were hogging up the space in front of the coffee machine. Don’t stop on my account,” Nanami nonchalantly said as he dragged you away from the coffee station. Bewildered, you went back to singing again, facing away from him as you looked for cinnamon in the spice cabinet. 

Nanami bit the inside of his cheek as he noticed your ears looked redder than usual.

It all felt oddly domestic. Your work shoes were strewn by the door, he was comfortable with his hair being disheveled, your unapologetically tone-deaf singing, and of course, the fact that you were making breakfast for him unprompted. 

‘I could live like this forever,’ the blond thought. Of course, minus the whole best-friends-who-live-together-and-aren’t-in-a-romantic-relationship situation.

But was confessing to you a good idea? What if you both broke up and never wanted to see each other again? What would happen to your living arrangement then? He can’t handle not seeing you for a day. It would be horrible for his sanity. 

But then again, you both have been friends for so long that it only felt natural to be with each other all the time.

He ignored his heart, screaming at him to confess to you. The man was clearly too far gone; if he spent another day in your presence, he would surely go mad. In love and in vain.

He ignored his thoughts when he saw you accidentally pick up his cup and place your lips exactly where his were a few seconds ago. You scrunched your nose, and it took everything in him not to kiss it. “Dear God, this is bitter. I’m sorry, Ken, but I will never enjoy your tastes in food.” 

Ken

He could hear you say that all day, all night, and in his dreams. Fuck, weren’t you a magnetic being?

He ignored his heart while brushing his teeth later that night. He put his hand on his chest and rubbed it when he saw your toothpaste next to his. Yours was pink, and his was blue. A silly little cliche among most couples. He looked at the shower shelf in the bathroom- you used the same body wash as him because you said men’s shower gels smelled better. He simply complied and brought you a few bottles because it gave him the illusion that you had slept in his bed. 

The two of you were polar opposites. He preferred a quiet night in, while you’d take advantage of your weekends and go out with friends. You hated cooking while he cooked elaborate recipes for fun. You were very outdoorsy while he preferred to use his treadmill.

There were so many differences, but you both complemented one another so well. So much that it confused mutual friends. People often asked why you both weren't a couple instead of if you were one.

He would also ignore his heart when it thrilled him to see men walk away from you as soon as he was in your space, hands naturally sitting on your waist while you whined about being single. ‘I’m right here!’ he wanted to scream. ‘Look at me!’

But his heart reached its wits end when you pretended to be his wife to protect him from an uncomfortably touchy woman.

Nanami is a simple man; he gets excited when he hears about food. Especially when it has to do with trying new dishes. So it was only natural that he dragged you to a global food festival in the city. It was pleasantly warm in the outdoor space for a cold winter night, thanks to all the cooking going on in the stands. You were a little overstimulated by all the smells, but the excitement on Nanami’s face was well worth the temporary discomfort. By now, you both had traveled to France, Turkey, and India via flavors alone.

The bar at the food stand you both were eating was getting increasingly crowded by the second, so it was only natural that there would be some unintentional physical contact with strangers. Nanami wrapped his arm around you to prevent the old man beside you from rubbing all his nauseating cologne over you. You ignored the way your body fit right next to his. And dare you say- like a puzzle piece with the silhouette of your breasts pressing up right beneath his pecs. 

You both decided to share a bowl of spicy noodle soup, but you couldn’t handle the prickly taste of peppers on your tongue. “I’m gonna grab something sweet. You want anything?” 

Nanami missed your warmth as you climbed out of the booth’s eating bench. “I’m alright, I’ll wait for you.” 

You also needed a few minutes away from him so your body could catch a break. The rush of adrenaline you’d get when he’d touch you was unlike any other.

He didn’t touch his noodle soup in your absence. It felt tasteless to him without you pressed up next to him. 

He continued his wallowing while staring at the bowl of soup until he felt someone slide in next to him. Excited, he turned around only to be met with a stranger. “Oh my, I really want to try the spicy noodle soup, but I’m scared it’ll be too painful.” 

“I’m sure the owner can give you a sample, and this seat is taken, so I’m gonna have to ask you to move to another place.” 

The insistent woman placed her manicured hand on his bicep, and Nananmi’s posture stiffened. “Oh, come on, I’ll just take a sip from you- I mean, your bowl, and I’ll be out of your hair.” 

This was turning into sexual harassment, and he was about to pull out his sanitizer spray to put her in her place until he heard a familiar voice. “Hey, lady! Leave him alone.” He let out a breath of relief when you arrived, ice cream in hand. 

“I can do whatever I want; it’s a free country,” she sulked.

“So can he, and he asked you to leave him alone,” you argued back. 

“Who even are you?”

“His wife.” Nanami’s eyes nearly bulged out of their sockets. By now, the people at the booth had turned towards the three of you to observe the spectacle. Before the creep could counter your answer or ask you for proof, the booth’s owner spoke up. “Hey, you buyin’ or not? I have customers waitin’ who actually wanna eat!” 

The lady quickly tucked her tail between her legs and briskly walked out of the area. Never to be seen again. “Fucking hell, some people really need to learn about consent. You okay?” Nanami wanted to reply to you, but no words came out of his mouth. 

You had basically declared to the world that you were his wife. Well, not the world, but all eight people in the booth (excluding you two) believed that you were his wife! It probably meant nothing to them, but to him it was like you had hung the stars in the sky. 

“Ken?” 

Ugh, you said it again. 

“Yeah, I’m alright.” His eyes simply couldn’t look away from your spice-swollen lips. If you’re his pretend wife, then it’s okay for him to kiss you, right? 

He mentally slapped himself at that thought. If he was going to kiss you then it was going to be the real deal.

—

Honestly, I like it when reader protects the character. Like yes, come here, my 6’4 baby girl, I’ll beat that person up for you.

[c0kitty]

NOW PLAYING ... STAY THE NIGHT ft. fwb!abby anderson x f!reader

(⭑) content: wc 600+ hc. modern au. fwb!abby. smut-ish. cursing. dickhead!abby. soccer player!abby. both in uni.

READ THESE; 1 and 2, HELP HERE, BOYCOTT. silence is complicity, do not scroll past this.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby who you disliked with a passion. it wasn’t for no reason. abby’s constant air of arrogance, her playboy-mentality with women, and her ability to have everyone at her will — just being the school’s soccer champion, didn’t sit well with you. 

so, it was your surprise when you ended up in her freaking bed later that week.  

you don't entirely remember how it happened, but one moment you were at ellie’s party, doing an intense shot-game with abby, and the next — you both were severely drunk in ellie’s bathroom, cornered, with you on the counter, and abby’s lips on yours.

you remembered small fragments of the night: abby’s lips being so soft, and tongue tasting like a mixture of vodka and grapefruit. your legs being propped around abby’s hips.

abby’s rough hands, slipping through your unbutton jean’s and into your soaked panties. 

her voice, low and soothing in your ear, “c'mon let me hear you, princess.”

it was different from her usual rough tone with you; and the worst part is you liked it. liked her praising you, whispering sweet-nothings.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby, who fucks you out. the night after was a bit of a whiplash for you. your lips kiss-swollen, dark hickies splayed on your neck, and you were wearing abby’s jersey

abby’s arm was wrapped at your hips, holded tight like she would die before letting you go. her body half-naked only in boxers.

and for some reason having seeing abby like that, stirred so many emotions. to desire, warmth, comfort.

(⭑) ── soccer player!abby, who you can’t sleep with again — you couldn’t be like those girls she’d fuck and get bored with after they’d caught feelings.

so, you leave without a word. but, soon after, you guys would see each other in class, eye’s drawn to each other.

…and it more or less happens again, rushed in a random janitor’s closet, again in abby’s freakishly-clean room, and again, in abby’s truck, her hands pushing your shaky legs apart, two fingers curling at your g-spot.

(⭑) ── fwb!abby, who is obsessed with you, always has been. she liked how you were always head on with her stubbornness, she loved how confident, smart, pretty, especially in those mini-skirts you always wear.

and, even though abby did love etching a reaction out of you, she wanted something more; beyond the snarky exchanges you guys had.

so with this arrangement you guys had goin’ on — all it did was fuel that even more.

to your pretty little moans to her ears, your strawberry glossed-lips, and how you chanted her name reaching your high.

she didn’t want anybody else to have this — have you.

(⭑) ── fwb!abby, who you continue with this fwb thing for two-months. it was at first to you, a way to release pent-up frustration with school and life, plus the sex was good. but after a while

… you wouldn’t just immediately leave after you guys fucked, sometimes you and abby would actually have civil conversations, joke around, watch movies in bed, cuddle.

it was all starting to seem … coupley. and it scared you how much you didn’t mind it.

not minding when she arrived after-practice sweaty, at your doorstep, showering you with kisses, not minding her head on your lap as she slept snoring softly, and not minding staying up late, embarrassingly-waiting for abby to respond to your texts.

it’s not entirely glitz and glamor. you guys would still argue, more so about stupid shit. 

like who’s gonna get the remote that’s on the floor, which results into a big disagreement.

(⭑) ── yet as the weeks passed, the arguments seemed to dwindle and sometimes, abby would apologize, with your favorite food in hand.

it's very unfinished but yay i posted! 😭

[improbable-outset]

📂 𝐊𝐞𝐧𝐣𝐢 𝐒𝐚𝐭𝐨 𝐍𝐒𝐅𝐖 𝐀𝐥𝐩𝐡𝐚𝐛𝐞𝐭.𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐞

I did try to add both genitals here… but I’m used to writing fem reader, so there’s heavy emphasis on AFAB. Barely proof-read…my eyes are sore

𝐔𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐚𝐧 𝐌𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

📄 𝐀𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Kenji’s gentle side shines through after your first time together. His usual confidence sheds away and is replaced by his anxiousness about whether he has met your expectations. He genuinely cares about you and wants to make sure you're comfortable, worried that he might’ve hurt you even if he was taking it slow with you

His inexperience makes him a little clueless about the nuance of aftercare, and you’ll find him overthinking what he’s supposed to do next. He fumbles a bit when he asks if you need water, a towel, or anything. He’s trying but he doesn’t know the proper steps

You find it endearing how attentive he is and gently reassure him, asking for some water. Immediately he’s on his feet and fetches you a bottle of water. He returns with a look of relief on his face as he hands it to you

The rest of the night, he stays close and is eager to attend to any of your needs, wanting everything to be perfect for you. Later on in the night, he’s a lot calmer and his racing thoughts subside. He might not have all the answers, but he’s willing to learn for you

📄 𝐁𝐨𝐝𝐲 𝐏𝐚𝐫𝐭.𝐝𝐨𝐜

One of Kenji’s favourite body parts is his arms, given his athletic build. He loves how easily he can carry you and seeing your surprised reaction when he suddenly scoops you up out of nowhere, or when he carries you to bed

This might sound out of place here, but Kenji really likes his hands. Not only so he could hold your hand or body while being intimate, but he could use his slender fingers in your hole to reach your sweet spot. It’s an ego boost for him when he could drive you up the walls just by curling his long fingers, feeling your slick walls sucking him in

Kenji is particularly fond of your lips, especially if they have a slightly heart-shaped curve. However, he isn’t picky about their appearance— he just loves sucking on the lower lip as he reaches his peak and stuffing you with his load. He also really likes latching his own lips on yours to muffle your moans

📄 𝐂𝐮𝐦.𝐝𝐨𝐜

As much as he loves the feeling of releasing inside of you, he can’t get enough of watching himself spray over your chest or your back when he’s doing it from behind

He’s addicted to watching how far his cumshots could go, despite the mess he has to clean up afterwards. But that won’t stop him from pulling out last minute when he’s in the mood

Judging by his athletic lifestyle and diet, his cum is slightly thick in consistency with a white precipitate (#FEFEFE in colour if we’re gonna be specific) and sweet in taste (healthy).

📄 𝐃𝐢𝐫𝐭𝐲 𝐒𝐞𝐜𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

One time during the early stages of your relationship, Kenji would always give you lessons on how to bat the ball — he would always be handsy during these sessions since he was touch starved and he loved to feel your skin

Whenever he would show you how to swing the bat, he would stand behind with his hands over yours as he guides you. However, it quickly dawned on him how close your rear was pressed up against his groin.

Before he could anticipate it, he felt his erection growing under his shorts. Though he didn’t pull himself away, afraid that it’ll raise suspicion. Throughout the whole time, he was trying to conceal himself and keep his cool so he wouldn’t accidentally jab with his hard cock through his pants

After that event, he never spoke about it for a while until you started being more intimate regularly. Now he would shamelessly press his hard-on against you while you were batting the ball. He loves how you would freeze up when you realise what was happening and immediately lose your composure

📄 𝐄𝐱𝐩𝐞𝐫𝐢𝐞𝐧𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

While living in America, Kenji never had any real relationship experiences that lasted long enough for him to actually sleep with his partner. Though he’s not clueless when it comes to the details, given how exposed he was with everything

Even as he rose to more popularity and stardom with his baseball career, and he had the opportunity to have flings with no strings attached, he still refused.

I mentioned before that he is demisexual, so he needs to build an emotional connection with his partner before he’ll take the step further. The emotional connection you share makes the physical intimacy more meaningful for him

First time you do it together will probably be back in the Ultrabase, where there’s more space and privacy for both of you

If it is your first time too, he’ll be the one in control and make sure your needs are met as well as his. He will frequently check in with you to ensure you’re completely comfortable and enjoying the experiences. He values respect and open communication on both ends

If you’ve got more experience, he’ll probably let you talk him through it. He finds it attractive hearing you tell him what to do to please you, and even better when you tell him to sit back and take the lead

📄 𝐅𝐚𝐯𝐨𝐮𝐫𝐢𝐭𝐞 𝐏𝐨𝐬𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Missionary: Kenji loves any position where he could see your face, but he likes the traditional stuff more so. This position is pretty simple but still versatile. He loves it when you wrap your legs around his waist to pull him closer while still remaining eye contact with you.

Spooning: He usually does this when he engages in a quickie with you. This gives a lot more skin-to-skin contact while still giving you a quick fuck from behind. He could place his hand on your waist to increase the intensity of his thrusts if he wanted

Seashell: Only if you’re flexible or comfortable enough to raise your legs all the way up until your ankles cross behind your head. If you have a pussy, this could give you more stimulation with his pelvic bone rubbing against your clit

Cowgirl: He always finds it hot when you’re riding him and controlling the pace. He can’t help but losing himself in the bliss you give him as you roll your hips against him

He’s always open to experimenting with different positions with you, so long as you don’t strain yourself

📄 𝐆𝐨𝐨𝐟𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

While Ken does tease you the most in your relationship, your first time together left him feeling a little stiff and unsure of what to do. You lighten the mood with your sense of humour— throwing in one-liners and playful remarks, making the situation less awkward. Kenji was grateful for that

While it was your first too, you both had fun during foreplay, experimenting with different erogenous zones and laughing about whether you were even doing it right

But when it finally came to penetrative sex, he was locked in and hyper focusing on your micro-expressions to see if you were experiencing any discomfort, taking things slow with you

📄 𝐇𝐚𝐢𝐫.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I’ve talked about how Kenji takes great pride in his appearance so his grooming routine is no exception. We know he keeps his hair styled so he has a collection of hair products to ensure his hair looks perfect

He puts the same energy when it comes to his body hair too, keeping things well-maintained. Yes, the carpet does match the drapes. He has a regular shaving routine and takes time to groom himself thoroughly.

📄 𝐈𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐦𝐚𝐜𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

As mentioned earlier, Kenji is demisexual so sex will be emotionally charged and he’ll only reach that step when there is a special connection with you. So it comes to no surprise that he’ll be extra sweet while making love to you

He will maintain eye contact with you, watching your facial expressions as he gives you pleasure. And if you think that’s sweet, he’ll go even softer and hold your hand while he goes down on you— he wants to hold onto you whenever possible

He really wants to hear sweet words from you too, telling him how much you love him and how good he looks. He really feeds off your praises and it gets him going

📄 𝐉𝐚𝐜𝐤 𝐎𝐟𝐟.𝐝𝐨𝐜

If there’s one thing I can confidently say about Kenji, it's that he wouldn’t please himself like that outside of a relationship. Even while he’s single and doesn’t have a partner, he wouldn’t resort to that, especially while watching any explicit content while doing it. He feels like it’s disrespectful to his future partner

The only time he’ll ever do it is when he’s alone with you, giving you a show to tease you, or when he’s alone and is pleasing himself with you in his mind. Even then, he’ll still feel some guilt. He’d rather do it when you’re there to watch him (voyeurism?). You were always infatuated by him, and he’ll never get enough of your reaction

When he is alone, his thoughts will be filled with nothing but you. He recalls your touch, your voice and the way you look at him. He yearns for your presence the deeper these thoughts go

His self-restraint is a testimony of his character and how much he values the physical and intimate connection he shares with you. And it makes the moment even more special when he’s finally with you

📄 𝐊𝐢𝐧𝐤𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Breeding kink: It wasn’t just Emi that influenced him, though it was a big factor. But seeing how natural you were with kids left his mind wondering, and he couldn’t stop thinking about breeding you. From that point on, he’ll get you knocked up, feverishly filling your womb with his seeds in hopes that you’ll get pregnant with his child.

Praise kink: This man is a sucker when it comes to your validation. And since you are his first, nothing will get him going more than hearing you praise him as he takes you. It gives him the satisfying feeling that he’s doing something right while giving you pleasure. He loves hearing your sweet voice tell him that he’s doing so well and how he’s good to you— he gets the fluttery feeling in his stomach that he quickly gets addicted to

Shibari (Japanese style bondage): He stumbled upon it somewhere and he couldn’t stop thinking about it whenever he was around you. This isn’t like western rope bondage where it entails a more functional role (retraining) but it’s more for aesthetics. He was really into it for the visuals and wanted to see you tied up in the most beautiful way. You did tease him about it when he brought it up but you still agreed, curious to see how it works. He made sure to buy the softest ropes purposely used for this type of stuff so you wouldn’t get friction burns

📄 𝐋𝐨𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I’ve mentioned before that when it comes to his relationship, Kenji values his privacy— especially with his sex life. So he likes to keeps things sensible with the location

His go-to place is the Ultrabase, specifically his bedroom. It’s the safest place for him, given that he lives alone. Mina rarely hovers around his room so you’ll have the whole night to yourselves

He doesn’t mind doing it at your place, especially if you live alone. But if you do live with family or with a roommate, you’ll have to be extra quiet. He’s not against it but he'd prefer it if the property was empty with only the two of you. If you live alone, he would have more confidence in initiating something with you that’s not just in the bedroom— he wants to experience taking you on different surfaces in your house

📄 𝐌𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐯𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Kenji is incredibly responsive to your gentle touches and caresses. He loves it when you run your fingers through your hair or lightly trace patterns over his back. But the more handsy you get with him, the more stimulated he gets.

He gets more hot and bothered when he feels your soft kisses over his skin, particularly his neck where he’s more sensitive. That is when he’ll let you take the lead

Kenji also gets aroused by sensory details too. The scent of your perfume when he leans closer, especially when it’s one of his favourite delicious scents, makes him unable to keep his hands off you.

He appreciates visual stimuli— seeing you in an outfit that accentuates your features that he loves is enough to make his heart (and dick) throb

📄 𝐍𝐨.𝐝𝐨𝐜

He isn’t a fan of Dom/Sub with his partner. He has seen a lot about it online but the whole power dynamic is a turn off for him. He prefers to be equal— definitely a switch. The only time he’ll have the upper hand is when he’s teasing you, but even then he’ll still keep it lighthearted

Speaking of Dom/Sub, he isn’t a fan of hardcore kinks and BDSM. The most he’ll go is light bondage. He doesn’t understand the whole concept of being in control or hurting his partner that way during an intimate moment

📄 𝐎𝐫𝐚𝐥.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Kenji loves receiving blowjobs from you. Though, the first time you did it, he came almost immediately. It’s embarrassing how fast he reaches close to the edge just by feeling the warmth of your mouth on his throbbing cock

Even after you reassure him that he doesn’t have to worry about it, he still wants the experience to last as long as his body could drag it out. It doesn’t help when he could hear you moaning with his dick in your mouth and the way you look up at him. It took him a while for him to adjust and hold himself back

I wouldn’t call him a munch when it comes to giving heads to his partner, however. Since you are his first, he is hesitant with his approach and how to use his mouth on you (if you have a dick though, he’ll try and replicate what you do on him so he’ll give you the same amount of pleasure)

It took him a few rounds for him to get used to the taste of you and the feeling of you in his mouth. The first time he held your hand with his fingers interlocking with yours as he ate you out/sucked you off, while focusing on your reaction and the sounds you were making. He wanted to make sure you reached your peak just as fast as he did

📄 𝐏𝐚𝐜𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Slow and rough is usually Ken’s default. He wants to savour the moment, memorising every inch of your body and discovering new sweet spots. He likes to be a little rough with you so he could watch your body move in sync with his thrusts

If he’s a bit more riled up, he’ll be a little faster and harder with his pace. It’ll either be because he’s pend up or frustrated, but he will still be mindful of your comfort

📄 𝐐𝐮𝐢𝐜𝐤𝐢𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

If he’s pent up and horny enough, he might engage in a quickie with you, especially if it’s in the mornings before he has to get ready for a game. Though he would prefer to have a long thorough session with you.

But if you rile him up enough, he’ll cave in before he blows his load inside you. Though, he’ll definitely get you back afterwards when he’s back home, keeping you up all night :))

📄 𝐑𝐢𝐬𝐤.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Since this is all new to him and he’s still experiencing this first hand, he wouldn’t resort to anything risky until he’s properly getting in the swing of things

However one time, you somehow managed to sneak a quickie in the nosebleeds after the game, don’t ask how you managed to pull that off without anyone catching you. As much as Kenji not being a fan of PDA, he had to admit, the experience was exhilarating. But he would’ve never caved into the idea if he wasn’t confident enough or if he didn’t have better control of when he releases

All fun and games until he made a mess on your hands while you gave him a handjob. You had to quickly clean yourself up without leaving any trails of your activities behind. He still teases you about it from time to time, watching you get all flustered at the memory

📄 𝐒𝐭𝐚𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Physically, he’s fit enough to go for 3-4 rounds if he wanted to. However, unless it’s a quickie session, he’ll probably only do 2 maybe squeeze a third round if you’re lucky.

He wants every round to be thorough, so they last a while— he takes his time with foreplay. Don’t worry if you ask nicely and he’s not tired, he might do another since he loves you so much ;)

📄 𝐓𝐨𝐲𝐬.𝐝𝐨𝐜

He didn’t own any toys in the beginning but later on in your intimate relationship, he did get curious about it and it has crossed his mind a few times. He’s very intrigued with how your body reacted with a vibrator. Watching your body squirm from the vibration was a turn on

Since he is new to this, he’s still learning about these toys and how they work. He won't admit how much he loves the feel of the cock ring you use on him though

Even if he is open to using toys sometimes, he prefers the feel of your hands for the raw experience

📄 𝐔𝐧𝐟𝐚𝐢𝐫.𝐝𝐨𝐜

He is the biggest tease— argue with the wall. Even before you did anything physical in the bedroom, he would always throw you off with his witty comments that would leave you speechless— it mostly stems from his cockiness. So sex with him is no exception when it comes to his teasing

He wouldn’t go as far as denying your orgasm, he’s not that cruel— haha. But he’ll verbally prod lightly, especially when you’re desperate for his touches watching how quickly you get turned on by the smallest of things

Not only is it an ego boost, but it makes him feel desired and there is no other feeling that will match it

📄 𝐕𝐨𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐞.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Initially, Kenji was embarrassed of being too loud, so he would clamp on his lower lip with his teeth to suppress himself. But after a few rounds together, he would run his mouth with his vocals.

He would constantly tell you how beautiful you look and how he can’t get enough of you, especially during foreplay. While he’s thrusting, he lets out breathy moans against your neck

When he is holding back his own release, he might whimper a little but he’ll cover it up with low grunts before he lets out a broken cry of your name

📄 𝐖𝐢𝐥𝐝 𝐂𝐚𝐫𝐝.𝐝𝐨𝐜

I’ve mentioned before that Kenji gets aroused when you wear your perfume around him and has a heightened sensitivity to your pheromones. But I think your natural scent drives him wild and it acts like a powerful aphrodisiac.

Whenever he comes home to you, the first thing he would do is bury his face into your neck and take in your scent. During intimate moments, the blend of your natural pheromone along with your scent amplifies his attraction to you, (I don’t know if this counts as olphactophilia) It reminds him of home and his fulfilling relationship with you

📄 𝐗-𝐑𝐚𝐲.𝐝𝐨𝐜

He averaged around 6.5-7 inches with a 1.5 inch width. Not too much girth but still enough for you to wrap your hands around it

#BF8888 for the tip colour with visible veins

Even if you are his first, he can make you see stars after learning how to use his dick right

📄 𝐘𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Because of his baseball career and his demands for press conferences along with his Ultraman duties, it’s only natural that he’ll have a high sex drive and longs for your touch

Albeit, he won’t initiate anything until you’ve done a few rounds together, mostly because he’s still getting used to the new dynamic and he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

Eventually, his hands will be all over you, sneakily hiking up your shirt as he kisses you passionately

📄 𝐙𝐳𝐳.𝐝𝐨𝐜

Kenji will not fall asleep straight away after sex, especially if there is a mess on the sheets. He’ll strip the bed and change to some fresh sheets

He will take a shower and will probably encourage you to join. He doesn’t want to be away from you, even while cleaning— he might even clean you off as well

After all that, he’ll finally tuck into bed, inviting you over to sleep on his chest before wrapping his arms around you. You’ll usually fall asleep before he does

𝐓𝐚𝐠𝐬: @magnificentmuffinfluff @strawberryshortcake20 @chertilla-uwu @nicorobinmylifesaver @schmirov

@despacito-uwu16 @kilometersz @h3artb3atttt @luneariaa

[markiemelon]

hiii, can you do something with jaemin? like a college friends to lovers?

breakfast

genre. fluff, crack 🍞

pairings. jaemin x gn!reader

falling asleep at your friend!jaemin’s place wasn’t your intention.. yet, there you were, knocked out on the couch. you eventually woke up, disoriented and sore, while the smell of burnt toast polluted the air. on the other side of the open room, jaemin stood behind the kitchen counter, preoccupied with scraping char off the bread slices. he perked his head up once he heard you rustling around. “oh. you’re up.”

“what time is it?” you yawned, reaching for your phone, only to find it cold and dead.

“it’s like 10 or something—” his tone was casual, and it threw you off.

“jaemin!” you jumped to your feet. “i had a class at 9!” you continued, “i told you to wake me up if i ever fell asleep here again!” you ran to the bathroom, looking for the toothbrush jaemin got you last time.

his expression became one of shame, like a child being scolded by his mother. “i know, but you just looked so peaceful…”

this isn’t the first time this has happened. more often than not, jaemin invites you to hang out after class.. so you usually find yourself leaving with him to walk to his apartment… you just can’t get enough of him.

once you get there, you hope for a productive afternoon, maybe crank out some assignments. but instead, you end up talking to him all night. you’ll eventually glance at the ungodly hour on the clock, and think, "just 5 more minutes. i'll get going in 5 minutes." 5 minutes turns into 5 hours... and next thing you know, the sun is up, you've slept through all your alarms, and you're grabbing your things to rush out.

“i need to go home-” you pat your hands around the couch, looking for your purse, tossing around the blankets and pillows jaemin put on you while you were asleep.

“wait.” he interjected. “when’s your next class?”

“at 1… but i still have to go home and get dressed...” you sighed, slumping onto the stool at the kitchen island.

“you still have plenty of time to eat breakfast...” jaemin said, nudging over a plate of toast that was grilled passed the point of no return.

“jaemin…” you laughed. “im not eating that.” you eyed the dish, and a chill went down your spine. “i’ll just have some cereal.” you helped yourself to his cabinets in a search for a more edible alternative.

sitting across from jaemin at the table, you crunched on your cereal while he picked at his burnt toast… his pride wouldn’t let him throw it out. “so do you wanna come over again later?” he waited for you to chew your food before you replied.

“jaemin, be for real.” you set down your spoon. “i can’t keep coming over on weekdays. i lose track of time and fall asleep.. i can’t keep doing that.”

“why not?” he said, mouth full. “why can’t you fall asleep here?”

“i don’t have my stuff here! no skincare, no clothes…” you counted a finger for each point you listed. “and by the time i wake up, im late, and i still have to go home and get ready...”

“well then.. why not just bring stuff to stay the night.” he cleared his throat. “pack your clothes and skincare and whatever… plus, you already have a toothbrush here.”

“do you want me to stay or something?” you took a sip of juice, eyes peeking over the cup.

“i just like having you around...” he picked at the toast some more, but had yet to actually taste it.

you thought for a moment. “yeah sure.” you shrugged, ignoring the way he just made your heart flutter.

“wait really?” he looked up from his plate.

“i mean… i guess it’s not a problem as long as i bring stuff to stay.” you said, getting up from your seat to go wash your bowl in the sink. jaemin followed right behind you and draped his arms over your shoulders, pulling your back into his chest. “then can you bring stuff to stay longer than 1 night?”

jaemin has always been a pretty affectionate friend, so you didn’t think much of the hug… “maybe i could stay until the weekend..”

“just until the weekend?” he squeezed you a little tighter.

but was he always this clingy?

“na jaemin, when did you get so clingy?”

“well these days, i…” he stopped himself.

“these days, you...?” you hummed, tugging on his arms that were still embracing you, urging for him to finish his sentence. you began swaying side to side ever so slightly. “let’s just stay like this for a minute.” he cooed, catching on to your rhythm, rocking in the silence. he really gave the best hugs. after a moment, he disrupted the stillness of the room. “move in with me.”

hearing him say that so bluntly made your heart drop. flustered, you turned around to face him, his arms now resting on your back. “all of a sudden?” you laughed.

“mm.” he nodded his head to agree, looking at you so endearingly. he gradually inched his face closer to yours, and you didn’t mind.

“jaemin.”

“yeah?” he answered, just inches away.

“are you trying to kiss me right now?” you teased, as your gaze wandered from his eyes to his lips.

“are you gonna let me?” he teased back. you couldn’t hold back your smile, and he basically took that as confirmation.

he didn’t have to lean in much further before his lips were touching yours. your eyes fluttered as his hands gently met your cheeks, even tucking a strand of hair behind your ear.

“what are we doing?” you whispered in between breaths.

“just enjoy it.” he reassured you.

and for some reason, his words really put you at ease. in that moment, you couldn’t help but enjoy it. you reconnected your lips, and let yourself fall more in love with your best friend than you already were.

his smile forced him out of the kiss. “so does this mean we can have breakfast together every morning?”

you scoffed at his remark. “maybe if you learn how to cook first…”

@lovesuhng thanks so much for the request!!!! such a cute idea. hope you like it!!! (reqs always open)

[cloudwisp]

𝐰𝐫𝐢𝐨𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐬𝐥𝐞𝐲 · 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬, 𝐨𝐧 𝐦𝐲 𝐥𝐢𝐩𝐬

contents: fluff. established relationship. mildly suggestive. wriothesley finds your lips irresistible in the color red. 1.1k wc.

“You look absolutely stunning, sweetheart.”

The soft curve of your lips spreads into a smile at the sound of Wriothesley’s voice followed by your gaze flickering to his pensive appearance from the reflection in the looking glass. There he casually leans against the doorframe with his arms crossed over his chest with a fond smile of his own settled over his face. He’s perfectly dressed in a dark-tone tailored suit and his usual loose tie around his neck, and with the way he’s posing it makes you think he wants to draw your attention to the outline of his muscular biceps under all those layers.

“You look quite handsome yourself. I’m almost ready, just need the last final touch…” You drawl, as you continue where you left off to smear the pigment of the bold lipstick over your bottom lip and you don’t notice the way the innocent act itself seems to have enamored him. Your ring finger then lightly taps the plush of your lips to blend the color seamlessly until you hum in approval with a nod of your head after doing a once over of yourself. Your legs swing over the side of the chair to bring yourself upright and after smoothing the wrinkles of your dress you chime, “All ready now!”

“New dress? Looks lovely on you, darling.” You could feel the heat of Wriothesley’s gaze roam over your body, taking in your features and the exquisite outfit that you spent hours getting ready for the gala tonight. He pushes himself from the threshold and with a few short strides, he gently grabs your waist reeling you into him while his other hand brushes against the expensive fabric that he spent good money on before resting on your hip.

“And you’re just a vision in red right now.” There’s a hint of primal desire behind his eyes as he glances down to your beautifully painted lips. He feels himself inching closer and closer to revel in its softness when suddenly he finds your index finger pressed to his lips instead.

“Sorry Wrio, I don’t want to ruin my lipstick.”

He blinks once and twice, and a chuckle escapes him when he registers that you denied his advances to save yourself from a little lipstick smear. That’s fine by him, so he just needs to work a bit harder for your sweet loving affections. He takes your hand that’s between you both in his much larger one and peppers several quick kisses over your knuckles, his thumb brushing over your skin as he moves to hold your hand simply down by your side. “Not even going to give me a taste? Just one wouldn’t hurt. Enough to tide me over for the night.”

“We played that song before, and we were almost an hour late the last time.” Your hands reach up to adjust his tie and he gives a low groan when you tighten it to properly fit around his neck. He knows that you’re right with the way his smirk broadens at you. A sweet taste from you is only going to make him want more of you, and now he’s thinking about how much he wants to ruin that lipstick just to see your messy lips. He’d even let you leave lipstick stains in the shape of your gorgeous lips all over him if that’s what you wanted. And that stunning dress he can’t wait to take off later…

“Ah. You’re killing me here, sweetheart.” His eyes wander down to your lips for a moment once again before slowly drifting back up to meet your gaze. He presses himself against you and you can feel his warm breath against your lips, “Fine, fine. But I could use a little color on me. I’m so monochrome. How about right here?” He taps his cheek, looking at you with mock innocence.

You feel like you could see right through him, but you don’t want to be a complete spoilsport and ruin all the fun so after much contemplation you finally relent because a fleeting kiss on the cheek should be harmless. And it wouldn’t be too much trouble getting him all cleaned up and appearing presentable again with the few minutes that you both have to spare before it’s time to make your departure.

“Okay, I suppose that’s fine. Just a kiss on the cheek.”

“That’s what I like to hear.” A cheeky grin tugs at the corners of his mouth and he doesn’t hide his eagerness to turn his cheek toward you to receive your love. You laugh quietly to yourself with a small shake of your head in amusement as you gently take his face in both your hands, one resting on his cheek and the other on the nape of his neck. On your tippy toes, you crane your neck to plant a soft peck on him but much to your surprise you kiss him fully on the lips when he does a quick movement at the very last second. “See, that wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“No. no, it wasn’t.” You’re nothing but soft giggles and adoring smiles despite being outsmarted by your boyfriend, and you feel him slip his arms loosely around your waist locking his fingers together at your lower back. Your thumb goes to wipe away the transferred smudge from his lips, and you always feel so seen when he looks at you with such tenderness behind his eyes after he was much too pleased with himself for stealing a brief kiss from you. “Was that everything you hoped for?”

“For now? Yes. But I won’t be able to stop thinking about your lips, or wanting to pull you off into some secluded room during tonight’s event.” He says almost teasingly, but it sounds more like a tempting offer if you somehow decide the festivities aren’t meeting your expectations or you need a moment away for some quiet time with him. And you suppose, the same thoughts have surfaced in your mind when you first saw his delectable get-up in the mirror but you couldn’t bear the embarrassment of explaining your late arrival to Monsieur Neuvillette with frenzied excuses again.

“That’s quite the imagination you have there.” Wriothesley notices that you’re not outright denying him of such tasteful fantasies, and he knows that it’s only a matter of time before you eventually cave into his enticing seduction. “We should head out now if we want to make it there on time.”

[giuliettagaltieri]

Go for it, Charles!

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x Reader

Chapter Synopsis: Making up over hot meals.

Warning: None

Word Count: 2711

Chapter: 5

Most mornings at home back in Monaco, Charles usually wakes up to Leo licking his face with his cute little barks.  It never fails to set his mood right for the day.  But right now, he is reminded that he is in your apartment when he feels a furball cuddling to his chest, Lily’s fur tickling his face.

Charles smiles, she warmed up to him finally.

He rubs her forehead with a finger and Lily opens her eyes briefly before closing them again.  “Found a new bed to sleep in?”  Charles chuckles before yawning.  He carefully holds her and sets her beside him when he sits up.  “Where’s your mama?”

Lily ignores him and continues to stay curled up, taking her nap.  Charles checks his watch and figures you might be at work already.  He sighs at the thought of last night.

He really messed up yesterday.  If he is back home, it would be easier to make up with you.  He could just buy you a gift or take you out to a nice restaurant.  Charles leans back on the sofa, his eyes staring blankly at the ceiling.

You were being so kind to him, how could he act in such an ungrateful way?  Meal prepping is not that bad, he was just dramatic about it yesterday.  Besides you only make it for three days and like you said, you don’t just make one dish.

“I was so rude.”  He groans, facepalming.

Charles gets up and stretches, he decides to head to your kitchen first for a glass of water.  As he gulps it down his parched throat, his eyes catch a kraft sticky note plastered on the refrigerator.  He walks over and squints his eyes at your neat handwriting.

There’s food in the fridge.  Feel free to eat anything you want.

Be back later in the evening.

Well that’s a good sign right?  You leaving notes for him?  Does that mean you’re no longer mad?

But then again you are a very nice person.  Despite being crossed with him, it seems very much like you to reassure him that he can take whatever he wants from the fridge.  Charles takes the sticky note and folds it with a smile, debating whether to throw it or keep it.  With much reluctance, he throws it but a smile is on his face as he opens the fridge.

Avocado toast perhaps?  They’re quick enough to make and he can’t mess them up.  He just had yogurt and an apple last night so he was craving calories.

Charles also helps himself to a cup of coffee.  His brows raise in silent appreciation for your taste in coffee.

After having his breakfast, Charles made sure to clean up, just eliminating anything that would piss you off.

There really wasn’t much to do now that you went away for work.  He can’t really expect you to put everything down to accommodate him.  You’re already doing so much for him.  So Charles decides to entertain himself.

He debated on watching movies on your tv but he doesn’t feel like sitting down for the entire day.  He went around your apartment, looking at every book you have in your bookshelf, having a loose grasp on your taste in literature.  He admires himself in the mirror in your dining room.  He also visited your office, arms crossed as he looked at your products.  Charles got one scrunchie and stretched it around his fingers before his attention moved on to a different item.  There’s a bunch of stickers too.  Did you make these?

Charles looked at every sticker sheet you have and even wanted some for himself but where would he stick them?  On your walls?  He chuckles at his own silly internal narratives before moving on to your packing area.  You are very organized, he notices.

Something soft rubs on his leg and he looks down to see Lily staring up at him before meowing loudly.

“Hi.”  He says with his voice slightly becoming high pitched and picks her up.  “Are you even allowed in here?”

Charles carries her outside and closes the door behind him.  “What do you want?  Snacks?”  Charles sets her down on the floor and heads to the kitchen where he last saw you get her food.  “You’re a big cat already so I don’t think it is good for you to be eating three times a day.”  But he does give her a bit of dry cat food. 

Charles sits crossed legged and watches Lily eat.  “Listen, since I gave you what you wanted, you got to help me out too.”  He runs his hand on Lily’s back.  “You need to help me with your mama.”

He’s being ridiculous, asking help from a cat and sitting on your kitchen floor like some helpless man.  Well, in some sense, he is a helpless man.

Lily was licking her paws now.

“You see, I made her very upset yesterday.  I didn't do it intentionally of course.”  Charles added the last sentence like he is afraid of being judged by a cat.  Lily does have a gaze that constantly makes you feel judged.

“And I don’t know what to do now.”  He raises both hands in the air in surrender.  “I liked being able to laugh with her.”  Lily immediately leaves after grooming herself, making Charles frown.  “Oh come on now, I was talking to you.”

He gets up with a groan and follows Lily.  Charles doesn’t say anything until she enters the cat door to the laundry room.  He didn’t notice that.  “What are you doing here?”  He sees Lily walking over to a plant you have before circling it and disappearing behind it.  “Wha-  Lily?”  Charles turns the pot, overestimating its weight, using too much strength that he fell on his butt and jostling Lily inside who meows sharply.  Oh is this her litter box?

Charles holds his laughter.  He really wishes you don’t have cameras around the house.  It’s barely even lunch time but he has made quite a few questionable actions already.

This is really clever.  He hopes he can get Leo to do the same.  The little devil used to pee everywhere.  Ah, Leo.  If there was one thing that Charles regretted about this entire situation, it was leaving Leo behind.  He’s sure that his team or his mom would take care of him but to be abandoned by his dad like that.  Charles shakes his head, not wanting to dwell in things he cannot control right now.

To pass time, Charles decided on exercising in your living room.  He plans to stay in shape despite this total change of routine.  Lily was very interested in what he’s doing though, he had to pry her off him to finish his sit ups multiple times.

When it’s finally night time, Charles was feeling a bit unnerved.  You’ll be back soon.  You just said evening in your note, you didn’t specify what time.  Why didn’t you specify what time?  At least he could have prepared better!

He’s sitting on the couch, elbows resting on his thighs with his foot tapping nonstop for a while now.  He looks up when he hears cars passing by but goes back to staring at your floor after not recognizing the engine sound.

Give or take half an hour later, which felt longer for him than it actually was, he hears the familiar sound of your car and at the last minute he stands up and heads to your kitchen, deciding that it’s a good time to have a glass of water.  That way it won’t look like he’s waiting for you, right?

He watches the glass slowly get filled up as he hears the front door open.  Charles sips slowly as he hears your footsteps and when he looks up, there you are, in your scrub suit, carrying a rather large bag, looking all tired and sleepy.

“Hi.”  You say.

Charles wipes his mouth and sets the glass down on the counter, he didn’t miss how your eyes flit to the glass.  “Hi.  How was work?”  He asks, trying to sound excited.  He’s glad you started the conversation, making it easier for him to communicate.

“Shit.  Some kid dislocated an arm after falling off the monkey bars in the playpark.  It looked super gnarly.”  You say as you disappear off to your bedroom.  He quickly washes the glass as you continue talking.  “This guy who had kidney stones just can’t decide whether to be treated or not and the stone went and traveled up his penis.”

Charles grimaces as he stands outside your room now, watching you organize your bag before disappearing to your walk in closet.

“And that’s only the minor surgeries.  We had not one but two thyroidectomies today.”  You start rambling as you pass him and head to the bathroom.  “Ugh people should learn to eat seafood in moderation.”  And you shut the door in his face.

Well…that was a good start…right?

He walks around your living room in slow circles, his arms crossed.  Lily was looking at him boredly.  When the bathroom door opens, you’re in more comfortable clothing, looking refreshed from your day at work.

Charles watches you dump your scrubs in the hamper in the laundry room and you stay still for the first time since you came home. 

“What do you want to have for dinner?”

You aren’t even being rude, simply just…asking.

“There is no need.”  Charles says quickly, starting to feel bad again.  “I mean, you’re already tired.”

“Well I need dinner too so I have to cook.”  You smile at him and his lips press to a line.

“I’ll help you.”  He offers and you nod.

You head back to your room to grab your lunchbox and tumbler.  “If you still feel bad about yesterday, don’t worry about it, I was just PMSing.”

“What is that?”  He asks, genuinely clueless.  “I can wash those.”  Charles gestures to your lunchbox.

“Thanks.”  You say as you place your stuff near the sink and he immediately starts washing them.  “It’s mood and hormonal changes before starting my period.”

So that was like a free trial?  He sucks in a breath through grimaced teeth, not even wanting to think about how you’d be with your period in. 

“I’m making pasta.”  You hum as you start pulling ingredients from the fridge.  You pull out a rather huge saucepan and Charle’s eyes widen a fraction.  “I’ll make enough for four servings if you’re okay with refrigerated food now.”  He knows you’re just teasing but he tongues his cheek.

“Yeah, yeah.  No problem.”  He answers quickly, not wanting to bite at your playful provocation.  Besides, he is busy looking at the ingredients placed on the table.  There’s too much of it?  He doesn’t think some of them would go well with pasta.  A loud sizzle makes him look up to see you cooking ground beef.  “What’s with all of the other ingredients?”

You smile at him as you fetch a colander to wash the ingredients left on the table.  “I will be showing you the beauty of meal prepping.”  You pull out two chopping boards from your cupboard and fetch two knives with a single hand.  How women could manage to hold so much in their hands, he would never understand.

“You slice the potatoes in half so they’d cook faster.  While I cut up the other veggies and season the chicken.”  You say as you bend to check something in the oven.  He would be lying if he'd say his eyes didn’t wander.

It was a bit overwhelming at first what you’re doing, with so much stuff going on but you don’t look bothered at all.  Just as you started focusing on the pasta, he finished with the potatoes, you were quicker than him of course, already managed to add spices on chicken breasts and lay them out perfectly on a baking sheet along with the perfectly cut vegetables.

The entire apartment smelled divine by the time you put in the chicken and vegetables in the oven.  He stands right next to you, watching you stir the pasta shells in the sauce, the garlic and cheese making his mouth water.

Yup that looks like something he’d like to have again tomorrow.

“Can you fill those two glass containers with pasta?”  You look up to him with your big pleading eyes and he stares longer than he should before nodding dumbly.  “I need to make overnight oats.  Do you want some?”

“Yeah.”  Charles nods while doing as you asked.  By the time you’re both done, there’s only the roasted chicken and potatoes.

“Let’s eat?”  You say excitedly as you put the pasta on two plates, your serving very generous.  Charles initiates grabbing forks for the both of you.  You let him have the first bite and smile really proudly when he closes his eyes and groans.

He spews a lot of words in French and you laugh lightly.

“Is it good?”

“Is it good?  Yes, it’s good!”  He scoops another forkful to his mouth.  Exhaling an airy parseltongue when the sauce inside the pasta shells burns his tongue.

“Careful now.”  You say while pushing the glass of water to him but he shakes his head and continues eating.  “I’m glad you like it.”

It’s probably because it’s been a while since he had a real meal but you do enjoy his reaction to your cooking.  You eat your own serving.  Getting up halfway to put the roasted chicken and potatoes along with other vegetables in four glass containers.

“Pick out whatever you want for lunch and dinner tomorrow.”  You tell him as you get back to the table with a bottle of white wine along with a pair of long stemmed glasses.

“Yes of course, thank you.”  Charles nods gratefully, chewing quietly and just stares at you having your pasta.  Your eyes are a bit droopy already.  “I’m so sorry I had to make you cook on a work day.”

You open the bottle and you pour him and yourself a glass of wine.  “It’s okay, really.  I had fun, besides, I got to sit most of the time because you helped.”  He was feeling really proud of that.  You offer him his glass and you both raise your glasses before taking a sip.

“I can help more.”  He tells you.  “I can do the dishes.”

“Oh you’re Godsent, Charles.”  You tell him.  You’re not about to pass up this opportunity.  You hate doing the dishes.  “I’ll be packing orders in the meantime.”  You do help in stacking the dishes and pots in a way that is convenient for him to wash though.  You gave him a few instructions where to store the dishes after he dries them.  “You should probably wear this plastic apron.”

Charles accepts it with a confused look on his face.  “Why?”

“You’ll see why.”

You leave him after that to hole up in your office to pack a few orders.  After sealing the current order you are working with, you stretch in your seat.  A knock in the doorway startles you and you see Charles looking at you with a kind smile, with only minimal wet patches on his sweatpants.

“Shouldn’t it be your bedtime?  You have to wake up early tomorrow.”

You yawn immediately as he mentions it.  “You’re right.  I’ll just finish up tomorrow…or on Thursday.”

He walks with you to your room.  “Your customers are fine with that, right?”  He just had to ask, he knows that people are not very patient when it comes to online shopping.

“I have a disclaimer in my website that all my products are shipped in three to five days.”  You tell him as you reach your bedroom.  You stand there, just facing each other.  For a moment you just rock on your feet as your hands twist the doorknob awkwardly.  “Well, goodnight.  Thanks for helping me in the kitchen.”

“No problem.”  He nods at you.  Finding your antics endearing.  “Good night.”

You smile at him one last time before closing the door.  As the door clicks into place, Charles pumps his fist in the air.

This night ended way better than he hoped and he couldn’t be more glad.   

Overdrive

[princessbrunette]

toxicex!jj randomly showing up at your place (maybe after having one too many drinks and he can’t stop thinking about reader), cornering you and flipping up your nightgown and kissing all up on your thighs, whispering into them how much he misses you and how you taste and how he’ll do anything for you to let him have you again 😩😫

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧🩶

you could recognise the shape of jj through the stained glass window of your front door anyday. as you squint into the hallway, you glance at the clock on the wall— wondering why on earth he’d be paying you a visit at this time.

you swing the door open, voice hushed as you frown into the dark where he stands leaning against your porch pillar.

“jj? what do you want? it’s literally 3am.” you hiss, annoyance in your tone. he seems unaffected by your frustration, dragging his eyes up and down your body covered by a thin night gown, huffing out a smirk as he fixes his cap before taking a step forward. with doing so brought the stench of alcohol. “you’re drunk.” your face falls a little, taking an instinctive step back as he enters your space in the door way.

“uh, technically no. you can drink but not get drunk, y’know?” he rambles. “anyway, i’m here…for you.” he smiles like it’s a secret between the two of you, the last word of his sentence punctuated by the pad of his finger prodding your chest.

“for me?” you furrow your eyebrows and his smile forces his dimple in as he takes in your reaction. you looked so cute like this, the low light forcing your pupils to stay all blown out as you stare up at him, giving you that doe-like appearance that drove him crazy.

“mhm…” he takes another step inside your house, and you back up against a corner table where you usually leave your keys. it clatters against your body and the blonde quickly reaches around you, hands planted either side of your hips, stilling it with a giggle.

“why are you here?” you try to sound serious, unphased — but the truth was, you both knew why he was at your door at this time, inebriated — and you weren’t totally against it. you missed him.

“can a guy not just stop by his ex girlfriends house in the middle of the night to say hi?” he defends, amusement worn clearly on his face. when you simply blink at him, the mask drops a little. “cant stop thinkin’ about you… ‘kay? miss you, mama.” he tilts his head and you shudder at the feeling of his breath on your neck. as he does so, he gently slots his knee between your legs and widens them.

“jayj…” is all you manage and he closes his eyes, shaking his head in a denial-like state.

“shh… shush… okay, i—i know. just… lemme taste it, yeah? s’been a minute… know you miss it too babydoll.” as he speaks, eyes pleading with you upon opening again, he sinks to his knees slowly, seeking permission. you clear your throat, eyes jumping from the open front door to the stairs where you knew your parents were sound asleep.

you say nothing, so he pinches your night gown and drags it up to your stomach, revealing tremoring thighs and a slicked up pussy. he bites down on his bottom lip as if to suppress the grin that forms as he huffs out a laugh through his nostrils.

“mm. keep it wet for me, huh? man i miss it.” he presses two thumbs along side your folds, spreading them apart to reveal the glossy insides and pulsing clit. “would be rude of me not to kiss ‘er goodbye, right?” he glances up at you only once before moving in, the only sound in the hallway for a few seconds being the wet smacking of your ex boyfriend making out with your cunt.

you realise you’d been holding your breath a few seconds later and exhale, gripping the table you were perched against as the blonde slides a hand beneath your thigh to lift it up, holding it out the way.

you go to grab the hand on you, perhaps to remove it on instinct — but like jj had some kind of spell cast on you, as soon as you lay your hand over his, you freeze and keep it there — relishing in the comfort it brings. he draws his pinkie back, holding you there as he continues to please you with his mouth. you wished you could see past his flaws, because you really, really missed him.

♡₊˚ 🦢・₊✧🩶

[fettuccin-e]

Like It Like That

Kinktober Day 16: Role-Reversal

Tags: Steven Grant x Reader, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv (pls oh pls wrap it irl i'm begging you), rough sex, fingering (r!recieving), slight degradation, dom!steven my love my life (w/c: 897)

A/N: Another part of the rapid-fire Kinktober catch-up! This one is a tad short but guys we're so close to being fully caught up I can practically taste it oh my gosh!! And I needed more husband Steven, especially because I feel like I fluctuate between dom and subby Steven in all of my fics, so he's perfect for role-reversal! (I've been using these prompts from flightlessangelwings for the month!)

He’s usually so good for you. Perfectly happy to whine beneath you as you do whatever you want to him. And he’s always so responsive, giving into your every whim without question, desperate for your touch.

Marc put the idea in his head, just like he always seems to. Steven supposes that he brought it on himself, asking Marc if he really liked being in charge as much as he seems to. He did.

“'Course I do, and she fucking loves it,” Marc had said, eyes going dark. “She gets so damn desperate for it. It’s like she’s in goddamn heat.”

Steven had watched you both that night, watched on through your bedroom mirror as Marc tore you apart, fucking into you harder than Steven has ever dared to. And you had cried with the force of it, dripping down Marc’s cock as he fucked you hard enough for tears to spring to your eyes.

Steven couldn’t get the image out of his head, needing to see you like that again, needing to be the reason for it.

He asks you one night, over dinner of all things, like he’s discussing the fucking weather, “Can I have control for a night?”

“What?” you ask, setting your fork down and scooching closer to him on the couch. “Like, in the bedroom?”

Steven’s face flushes bright red. He won’t make eye contact with you. “Yeah,” he breathes, “Want to see how it feels, if that’s alright with you.”

You smile at him, ducking to his lips to meet him in a gentle kiss. “Of course, Steven,” you murmur. “Of course you can take control, see if you like it.” And in the back of your head, you can’t help but wonder how Steven, the sweetest, most docile man you’ve ever known, could possibly be dominant.

A few nights later, you find out. You find out, spread underneath him, just how far he can take it.

 “Fuck, please Steven, need it so bad, please,” you whine, unable to help yourself as Steven’s fingers spread you apart, jamming into your pussy so hard your head spins. 

“God, that’s so beautiful, love,” he murmurs, “keep begging for me.” And you realize that you’ve never been the one begging for him before. It’s always him, writhing and pleading beneath you. The change, his dark eyes roving down your body as he plays with you like a fucking toy, is enough to give you whiplash, sending you into a tailspin.

“Please, Steven,” you gasp as his fingers jackhammer into your g-spot, sending your back arching as you bear down on his fingers. “Please fuck me, need it- need it so bad, baby.”

Steven grins, the same cocky, self-satisfied grin Marc always gives you when he’s got you like this. It’s fucking maddening.

“Marc was right,” he murmurs, “you’re fucking gorgeous when you get desperate like this.” You flush with heat at the compliment, throwing your arm over your eyes to escape from Steven’s unrelenting gaze.

Before you can even breathe, Steven grips your wrist, pinning your arm above your head. “Look at me when I fuck you,” he snarls, deep and dark and so unlike your Steven that it makes your entire body lock up, feeling like you’ve been struck by lightning. You’re lightheaded as you feel the blunt head of his cock push at your gaping entrance.

He doesn’t break eye contact, holding your arm above your head as he pushes inside without remorse, not giving you a second to recover before he’s pulling out, and slamming into you again.

You’re so used to the way Steven whines beneath you, his hips bucking uncontrollably.

Now, you’re the one gasping for air as he growls above you, fucking into you at a pace that is utterly obscene, practically ripping you apart, straight down the middle, with his violent thrusts.

“Steven, fuck, oh my god, Steven,” you slur between his harsh movements into your aching body. You can hear the sound of your pussy around his cock, the wet slapslapslap of your bodies meeting over and over again.

“God, you’re so wet for me, love,” he rasps. He pulls his hand away from your wrist to grasp your hips, his fingers digging into your flesh as he pulls you onto his cock. “You love this, don’t you? Being used?”

You choke on your moans with his words, gasping for air.

“Fuck! Yes, I love it, love when you fuck me like this, oh shit- Steven!” Tears spring to your eyes, leaking down your cheeks. The headboard slams against the wall, threatening to dent it, but you couldn’t care less. Not when it feels like you could pass out from the pleasure of it all, Steven’s cock jamming into your g-spot with every single thrust.

“You look fucking perfect like this, darling,” Steven growls, “getting fucked like a slut.”

And you’re fucking gone, trembling and gasping soundlessly as you squeeze Steven’s cock with your orgasm, your nails digging into his shoulders. He thrusts in once, twice before he’s following, leaning into you to lick into your mouth, his hips moving in aborted little thrusts as he floods your pussy with his cum.

As you both settle, Steven lets himself rest on top of you, his weight comforting and warm.

“Did you like it, Steven?” You whisper, running your fingers through the hair on the back of his head.

“Mhm,” he hums tiredly into the crook of your neck. You chuckle.

“Good, because I fucking loved it.”