#dusk stranding

[dusketo]

GOD. wish I’d recorded the exact moment I realized BTs can follow you onto a bridge

[tovaicas]

↳ ꜱɴᴏᴡ + ᴄᴏᴇʀᴛʜᴀꜱ ᴡᴇꜱᴛᴇʀɴ ʜɪɢʜʟᴀɴᴅꜱ

ᴛʜᴇ ɢʀᴇᴀᴛ ꜱɴᴏᴡꜱ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ᴄᴀᴍᴇ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ʜɪɢʜʟᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴇʀᴛʜᴀꜱ ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴀᴋᴇ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴀʟᴀᴍɪᴛʏ ʟᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇxᴛɪɴᴄᴛɪ��ɴ ᴏꜰ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛʟᴇꜱꜱ ᴘʟᴀɴᴛꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟꜱ. ʙᴇꜰᴏʀᴇ ᴛʜᴇɴ, ᴛʜᴇ ꜰᴇʀᴛɪʟᴇ ʙᴀɴᴋꜱ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴡᴏ ʀɪᴠᴇʀꜱ ᴡʜɪᴄʜ ꜰʟᴏᴡ ᴛʜʀᴏᴜɢʜ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴇꜱᴛᴇʀɴ ʜɪɢʜʟᴀɴᴅꜱ ᴡᴇʀᴇ ᴏɴᴄᴇ ᴛᴇᴇᴍɪɴɢ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʟɪꜰᴇ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ꜱᴜʀʀᴏᴜɴᴅɪɴɢ ᴘᴀꜱᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴍᴀᴅᴇ ꜰᴏʀ ᴇxᴄᴇʟʟᴇɴᴛ ɢʀᴀᴢɪɴɢ. ᴀʟᴀꜱ, ᴀꜱ ᴛʜᴇ ᴛᴇᴍᴘᴇʀᴀᴛᴜʀᴇꜱ ᴅʀᴏᴘᴘᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʀɪᴠᴇʀꜱ ꜰʀᴏᴢᴇ, ᴛʜᴇ ᴠᴇɢᴇᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴡɪᴛʜᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅɪᴇᴅ, ᴀꜱ ᴅɪᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪᴠᴇʟɪʜᴏᴏᴅꜱ ᴏꜰ ɪꜱʜɢᴀʀᴅ'ꜱ ꜰᴀʀᴍᴇʀꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜᴇᴘʜᴇʀᴅꜱ.

[duskiily]

- eve of extinction

[jaykaycreates]

Was thinking about making Aaliyah a Strand user, it fits her vibe.

also take this dumb meme i made. Two types of strand users

[aneverydaything]

Day 1889, 25 August 2023

[swordgrace]

❝ 𝐖𝐎𝐋𝐅’𝐒 𝐓𝐄𝐄𝐓𝐇 𝐀𝐍𝐃 𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐍 𝐖𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒. ❞

KINKTOBER — WEEK ONE: BATH SEX.

⤿ pairings: cregan stark x jace’s sister!reader.

⤿ word count: 4.1K.

⤿ warnings: smut (mdni), loss of virginity, bath sex, fingering (fem!rec), biting, multiple positions (cowgirl, from behind), heavy kissing, scratching, sexual ending implied, heavy breeding kink, creampie, mutual orgasm, rough(er) sex, both cregan & reader are horny

⤿ note: first kinktober request under my belt! Loved writing this one and it was a nice return to Cregan (love him with my whole being)

Even a smoldering fire wilted in the midst of the Northern chill, a biting ice that consumed all traces of warmth, swallowing it whole.

Winds from beyond The Wall whistled down from desolate lands, bringing with it its bitterness and sting, seeking to envelop all within it.

Glacial are the wreaths of snow-furled gales that blanket Winterfell in their pale harshness — it even seeps into your bones, bones forged of fire and blood.

It was difficult to take comfort in such foreign surroundings, from the dusting of ice forming on window panes to the bristling chill that rakes across your spine. The North was not Dragonstone — it was not home.

Unconventional was the singular word that plagued your mind when it came to your sudden marriage to Cregan Stark, a union made in a frenzied haste to gain allies in a brewing war.

It was as if you were merely a pawn to be moved across a board by your kin — your Mother, in particular. She was the rightful Queen of the Seven Kingdoms, yet you couldn’t help but feel hopelessly abandoned here in the North, under the supposed guise of safety.

Jacaerys had departed shortly after your wedding in the Godswood, bidding his strenuous farewell before leaving you in the company of your stoic husband.

Your brother was not thrilled with the prospect, cautioning against it, but duty demanded it of you, and you dared not defy your mother. Admittedly, it could’ve been worse, this unusual match.

Cregan Stark was not a foul man — he was rough, like the uneven surface of leather or the cracks of a cliffside, a mountain so stalwart that you wondered if he ever smiled. A sliver of you pondered if his dour visage was because of you.

Stoicism seemed interwoven into his demeanor, tempestuous hues glistening with a stern wisdom that stretched far beyond his years. Cregan was only two namedays your senior, yet he behaved as if he were a grizzled veteran.

He did not consummate the night of your wedding, much to your bewilderment. You could only muster up a series of kisses and an untied gown before nervousness tore you asunder, anxiousness gnawing away at your belly.

Cregan did not press you any further, citing that he wished to give you a berth, a space to yourself as you processed your new environment. It was a sentiment that you vastly appreciated, yet you felt so completely alone.

The autumnal canopy of the Wolfswood had become your constant companion in the weeks that had passed since your union to Cregan. At dusk, you would converse with your Northern husband, who’s exterior seemed to melt slightly with each passing day.

Duty did not always permit the two of you to spend time together — oftentimes, it kept you separated, tethered to two differing realities.

After supper, you retired to your marital chambers, prepared to end your evening with a hot bath and a bit of light reading to preoccupy your time. Cregan did not appear, which was commonplace, strategizing alongside his advisors.

Chambermaids prepared your steaming bath, hot enough to singe those without dragon’s blood coursing through their veins. Wisps of heated vapor drifted toward the ceiling of the cozy washroom, a humid warmth permeating stone.

Deliberately, you untied each strand of lace, deftly unraveling yourself from your evening gown. Fingertips graced the thick fur that lined the trim as you draped it over a chair, flicking strands of your hair aside.

Footsteps resonated outside of the mahogany door, their shadow falling across you. You hadn’t expected Cregan to return so soon, prompting you to step into the water before sinking beneath, reclining against one edge.

Gentle sloshing of water caught his attention once he abandoned Ice and his cloak, retracing his steps to the door of the washroom. “My Lady.” He greeted you, lingering just outside in hopes to converse, even if it were fleeting.

A strange lump formed within your throat as you gingerly scrubbed at your arm with floral-laden soap, throat becoming thick. “Ah — my Lord,” You did not sound confident. “I wasn’t expecting your return so swiftly.”

Cregan found it increasingly difficult to act gallant around you, resolve hanging by a thread, honor crumbling away. Instinct and desire festered within his heart, lust where he knew it shouldn’t be — but he was a man who wanted his wife.

If this weren’t so rushed in an attempt to forge allegiances, he would have courted you properly, taken the time to learn your heart before devolving to carnality.

He learned some, but he knew that you were nervous, and he could not blame you for it. Tossed to the wolves, a lone dragon — Cregan did not want to frighten you any further.

“One can only play tactician for so long before it becomes an uphill battle,” Cregan uttered, chestnut brows furrowing together. “Are you well?” He inquired, tone one of a gentler resonance, laced with sympathy.

“Well enough,” Biting at your cheek, you considered your next words carefully, gaze boring a hole through the door. “Did you … Were you wanting to join me?” As much as it turned your stomach with butterflies, you did not want to continue being so shy.

In the sight of the Old Gods, he was your husband — Cregan had treated you with the greatest care and decency, and continuing to hide from him would only worsen things. You knew that it needn’t be so disconcerting.

Cregan’s jaw tensed, a sly heat blooming throughout his chest as he considered your stiff proposal. It sounded uncertain, and he did not dare act on uncertainty alone. Yet, the thought was tantalizing — he thought of you often.

Some part of him felt reduced to a boy, a coil of sudden nerves that he promptly abandoned, steeling himself for you. “I would only join you if you wanted it, my lady. Do not force yourself to be uncomfortable.” He rumbled.

The more you sat, alone in the herb-speckled waters, the more you yearned. There was nothing to fear from Cregan Stark, an honorable man whose patience was as unyielding as the mountains.

To grow was to rid yourself of girlish fright, and you did just that, steadying your erratic breathing as you sat up a little straighter. You reminded yourself that he was your husband, that he would not touch you unless you asked it of him.

“I want you to,” Your saccharine voice fluttered between the iron-etched wood, now a thin degree of separation between yourself and your husband. “Please, come in.”

Silently, Cregan prayed to the Gods to let him behave, to curb his animalistic appetite and to allow himself a gentler touch. Having already shed most of his leathers, he turned to knob, stepping inside to a homely nook of humid air and warmth.

Storm-colored hues fixed themselves to you, demure and sitting so soundly in the bathtub, yet you were the very image of perfection. His hand clenched in a desperate attempt to relieve some of his own tension.

You nearly shrank beneath the penetrating stare of your husband, whose coiled posture reminded you of a wolf preparing to strike. It made your heart hammer beneath your breast, hand gripping the edge of the tub just a little tighter.

His gaze screamed of affection, of desire, of ardor — Cregan was not as intimidating as you thought him to be, visage softening at the sight of you.

Tension clouded the washroom, thick enough to be sundered into two with a broadsword. Cregan wordlessly tugged his rugged tunic aside, exposing a thick wall of corded muscle, an impenetrable force that made your breath hitch.

To you, he seemed sculpted from a cliffside — rustic and hardened, the form of a warrior made, not chiseled, his own incarnation of godlike. Your stare shamelessly traversed the bulky plane of his musculature.

You were quick to glance away when he removed his trousers, causing you to shift beneath the water, skin glistening with a damp sheen. Again, you staved off your nerves as he lowered himself into the bath, taking up plenty of space.

In his solace, he drank you in again as if you were the finest stout, the very essence of beauty. Cregan felt the tension, the way it curled around the both of you, hesitation brewing in place of action.

It was you who shattered the silence, first with a tender smile, second with your words. “I must confess, I am glad that you are here,” A warm stirring began to unfurl across your chest. “I’ve been quite lonely.”

Cregan admonished himself for your feelings in silence, visage etched with a calm empathy. “Forgive me, then,” He murmured. “I did not know that my absence had become so cumbersome. I thought it best to let you adjust — alone.”

“There is nothing to forgive,” You assured, countenance as warm as the first sigh of springtime, melting away at his icy exterior. “You have been so understanding and kind, and I do not know how to thank you for it.”

“I would gladly make time for you, wife,” His utterance of the word wife made you shiver in delight. “I know now that this is something we will brave together, and not apart.” Cregan nodded, hoping that conversation would distract him.

He was unbearably hard, cock throbbing with such an incessant ache that he nearly abandoned the bath altogether. It was then that you reached for his hand, digits tracing along his forearm.

Cregan gripped the tub like a vice with his hand, so tense that his muscle threatened to tear apart. Your embrace was like silk, a shroud that he wished to wrap himself within. His gaze intensified, stuck to you with a fervor.

“I did not invite you inside just to converse,” Your whisper was hoarse, shrewd — you were finding your voice, and Cregan thoroughly enjoyed it. “I wish to try.”

“You cannot try from that distance.” Cregan’s tone was akin to the trembling of thunder from the skies, dripping with a thinly-veiled desire. There was affection present, yet lust seemed to win out as he coaxed you closer.

Once you waded into arm’s reach, your husband brusquely tugged you into his lap, causing you to gasp as he caressed your hip. His kiss was akin to a tide of fire, washing over you with an unyielding burn, heat crawling across your flesh.

You reciprocated without hesitation, palms finding their purchase atop his chest, nails digging into muscle when you felt his cock prod into your stomach. Gods, he was intimidating — you feared your physical state on the morrow.

It was unmistakable, his passion — the desire he’d built for you came crashing down, entangled with your budding desire.

A thick, calloused palm cupped your hip, kneading into the curves there, the other finding the soft flesh of your breast. He gingerly groped your chest, fingers gracing across your nipple, evoking an excitable whine from you.

“Gods, you are the most beautiful woman I’ve laid eyes upon,” Cregan’s husked tone was akin to a growl, reverberating against your mouth. “My wife.” He uttered, reveling in your flustered expression.

Lips clamored as if it would be their last dance, and he found himself kissing your jaw, your neck — wherever he could reach. It was a near-frenzy, acted upon with passion and a wolfish appetite, a desire that scorched his bones.

“Cregan,” A labored moan ripped through your throat, crackling with excitement as you tilted your head backward. He thoroughly reveled at the sound of you singing his name, a rumble reverberating throughout his chest. “Please, I need you.”

Slotted firmly within his lap, Cregan let the hand upon your hip drift elsewhere, dipping beneath the water as he sought the heat between your legs. His kisses were relentless, etched against your neck like a hot brand.

He needed you just as terribly, a want so powerful that it nearly obliterated him, scorching his heart with your own desire. His thick digits found your flower, thumb circling the pearl of your cunt.

A sharp gasp escaped you, lips agape as another wine emerged from your mouth. You hadn’t been touched like this before, not from a man so learned as Cregan, who studied your body with his hawkish gaze.

Your hips possessed a mind of their own, desperately chasing after any shred of friction from his hand, nails clamping into his broad shoulders. A soft chuckle shook his body, the vibrations sending shivers up your spine.

“Easy, princess,” Cregan murmured, teeth gently scraping over your jugular before he pressed a kiss there. “Do not tire yourself so quickly.” He cautioned, toying with your clit in slow, deliberate motions.

His cock prodded against your cunt, filling you with a sudden wave of anticipation. His stature seemed to confirm what you already knew, prompting you to swallow the lump within your throat.

Cregan would never tire of you, and he knew that this would not be enough to satiate his hunger for you, an appetite as ravenous as that of a starving wolf. He wanted to taste you, occupy the space between heart and ribcage, never part from you — duty be damned.

Pressing another string of greedy kisses against the column of your throat, Cregan continued to slowly circle your clit, savoring the twitches and reactions that flickered across your face. You made your pleasure known, vocalizing your delight to the heavens.

Part of you knew what to expect with the act of consummation — pain, and then pleasure, if you were fortunate enough. You trusted Cregan to handle you with care, rocking your hips atop him.

A low grunt elicited from him, one that clearly seemed pent-up. The sensation of your nethers pressing against his length drove him to madness, palm gripping hard at the small of your back. “I fear you may be the death of me.” He growled.

A shudder iced your spine, one tinged with anticipation as you sought his mouth, kissing him in your own flurry of bliss. He enjoyed your initiative, large hand tracing up and down along your back, goosebumps trailing in the wake of his caress.

“I — I want you inside of me,” Stammering over your words, your hands found the nape of his neck, clinging to his damp, chestnut tresses. “Will you be gentle?” You feared being split in half if his pace became hastened.

Cregan grit his teeth together, knowing that taking your maidenhead in such a rough way was not fair to you, nor was it kind. “Of course,” He assured, pressing a kiss against your jaw. “I wouldn’t dream of harming you.”

Restraint would likely test his resolve, but Cregan was up for the challenge, hand snaking away from between your thighs. Even within his grasp, you still seemed a touch uneasy, likely due to the bundle of nerves coiled within your stomach.

“On your own time, wife,” Cregan rumbled, content to caress along your supple frame, handling your curves as if you were molded from obsidian. You possessed the strength of a dragon — perhaps you didn’t realize it yet. “I am enjoying myself.”

With a nod, you exhaled, looking to him for instruction as he reached between the both of you, guiding his cock to your entrance. The thick head pressed along your cunt, causing you to shift again.

A kiss made its residence along your jaw. “I have you,” Cregan murmured, letting you sink down onto his length. Your countenance bristled with the sting of agony, and you nearly hurried it along until his hand seized your hip. “Easy.”

Seven Hells, he filled you completely, stretching you in a way that molded you to him. It was discomforting, a pain you seldom experienced, but Cregan was soothing.

It was the sweetest torment for Cregan, cock sluggishly feeding into you, inch by inch, your cunt tight around his length. A sonorous groan bubbled within his throat as he continued to guide you, ensuring that you were not suffering.

“Cregan!” A hiss escaped you, one intermingled with pleasure and pain, brow creased in concentration. It was nearly too much for you, but you persisted, enduring the newfound stretch and foreign sensations.

The tip of his length very nearly kissed your cervix, and that was his sign to cease. He let you sit, labored breathing bearing inklings of ecstasy, lips slack as you began to roll your hips.

He was strong enough to maneuver you along his cock as he saw fit, but he let you gather your bearings, find your own pace. Your soft, sweet lips sought his own, mouths clashing in a spirited kiss, one charged with a growing adoration.

Chest-to-chest, the intimacy grew tenfold, hearts beating in-tandem, making way for the wave of ardor that consumed you both. Water gently sloshed around the both of you, flesh damp, yet you had never been warmer.

Firm, steady hands kept their grasp upon the swell of your hips, thumbs tracing lazy circles into your silken flesh. Cregan appraised you with starving eyes, hues as gray as swirling clouds before a winter’s storm.

“Move me,” A wanton sigh floated from your lips, evoking a sense of primal desire that he knew to shackle down. Your husband obliged, setting the pace at a slower speed for your sake. “Gods, just like that.” You huffed.

Cregan fought against baser instincts, against tearing you asunder like that of a snarling beast. He guided you up and down upon his length, mouth seeking the dip between your neck and shoulder.

Teeth found their rooting there, gingerly scraping your flesh as he marked you, eliciting a throaty moan from your mouth. It was a sting that you did not expect to enjoy — but you wanted it again and again.

Tangled sighs and low, heavy breaths wove together, forming a heated cacophony that filled the washroom with your lewd activities.

He took your maidenhead with such tenderness, never once resorting to a harsher pace unless you were the one to initiate. “You are perfect.” Cregan uttered, letting you rock up and down along his length.

The feeling of his calloused hands sinking into your plush flesh was mesmerizing, leaving behind a wave of goosebumps that crawled across your flesh. He gripped you hard enough to leave bruises, peppering kisses against your neck.

Finding your rhythm, it became easier to impale yourself upon him, gasping when his cock sheathed itself deep within you. Your cunt clenched pathetically around him, nails raking crimson trails across his shoulders.

Molten heat churned within the pit of your stomach, arousal honey-thick between your thighs. The more you succumbed to desire, the more carnal his pace became, losing all inhibitions of restraint.

Soap-laden water steamed around the both of you, sloshing with the movement of two bodies, locked within the throes of passion. A soft cry escaped you as he brought you down again, invigorated by the spirited rolls of your hips.

It only became messier — two souls clawing for affection, for entanglement, for a release. As you grasped his biceps for support, you changed the rhythm, letting yourself drown within desire.

A breathy, snarled curse tore past his mouth, brows furrowing together in concentration as he maneuvered you toward the tub’s thick rim. His chest was hot, slick as he pressed himself to your back.

Smoothing a calloused palm along your thigh, his thrusts became a touch erratic, cock hitting into you like the jab of a spear. “Cregan!” You moaned, savoring the sensation of his mouth against your shoulder, crooked nose ghosting along your throat.

The newfound position was somewhat awkward given his stature, contorted in the smaller space of the tub, but he cared little for it. Passion drove him, the desire to breed, make you round and lovely with his children.

His hands did not leave you, caressing wherever he could, an anchor to keep you safe even in the midst of such crass acts. “Gods help me,” Cregan growled, hot breath fanning across your shoulder. “I need you.” He hissed.

It was unexpected, his confession that rattled you so, sending tremors along your spine. You did not expect him to feel that way for you, yet it only furthered your arousal.

Lewd entanglements of flesh resonated throughout the washroom, accompanied by a myriad of moans and animalistic growls. Cregan became more beast than man when placed under pleasure, not that you minded.

Even if he lacked the stamina to continue, carnality willed him to devour. Your husband kissed you, touched you wherever he could, thick digits snaking between your thighs as he sought the aching pearl of your cunt.

“Do not stop,” A breathy mewl erupted from your throat as you pleaded with Cregan to continue. Once deft digits began to toy with your clit, your knees buckled, hand grasping at his forearm. “Please, please do not stop!”

Between the feverish kisses he placed along the nape of your neck and the hand circling your clit, you felt the ecstasy mounting. The coil within your stomach began to unfurl, visage screwed up in a look of bliss.

Cregan’s grunts sent shivers throughout your body, warming your insides with their fervor. His cock continued to pound in and out at a steady pace, body snug against yours.

He dared not harm you, executing caution even still, indomitable musculature hunched in over you, enveloping you on every front. As his calloused fingers flicked across your pearl, you shuddered, thighs twitching in response.

You experienced a euphoria like never before, the sensation foreign yet overwhelming, setting every fiber of your being ablaze. Water splashed over the rim of the bathtub, falling onto the stone below.

Each snap of his hips sent you reeling, cock filling you to the brim, stretching you in ways that you never thought possible. You moaned, nails digging into his arm; Cregan’s pace did not deviate.

Tantalizing fantasies of putting a babe in you drove him mad, his hand drawing away from your cunt as he placed his palm over your stomach. Gods, you could feel everything — it made you buckle, release swift and white-hot.

Stars floated across your vision in the wake of your release, a choked sob of ecstasy rippling through your chest. Cregan’s name rolled from your tongue like an incantation that you had committed to memory.

It was then that your husband spilled himself inside of you, aided by the wet clenching of your cunt around him. Ropes of hot, virile seed painted your womb, and you felt him press his forehead against the back of your shoulder.

Tangled, labored breaths filled the space between you both, thin as ever. Cregan did not want to stop — the night was agonizingly young, and his cock stirred within you. “Are you well, wife?” He murmured, stroking along your hip.

“I am perfect,” He could taste your smile, a bright and palpable thing. You felt him move away, momentarily sinking back beneath the water. “I — I was not expecting it to feel so pleasurable.”

“There is plenty more beyond that,” Cregan assured, drawing you back into the wide expanse of his lap, cock nestled against the plane of your stomach. He cupped your jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing your cheek. “Do you require rest?”

A coy expression flickered across your countenance as you let your fingertips playfully ghost across the tip of his length. The sudden blaze within Cregan’s storm-cloud hues had made your heart leap into your throat, excitement replacing exhaustion.

A growl stirred within his chest at your wordless insinuation, and he did not seem to waste a moment of time, hooking an arm around your hips. “Clearly not.” He grunted.

“Do you object?” You murmured, dragging one finger over the plane of his visage, so youthful and unblemished, a contrast to his rugged demeanor. Provoking your husband was a bold choice, one that Cregan respected.

“I do not,” Cregan’s tone was little more than a grumbling of thunder, brows furrowing together as he steeled himself for what would become a lengthy evening. He adjusted your position, the head of his cock kissing your entrance once more. “You will wish for rest when we are finished.”

[gamegoblinvt]

Got a new Schedule! Gob on the Job is gonna keep on keeping on.

Monday - Voices of the Void 👽

Tuesday - not streaming cause I got DnD 🎲🐲

Wednesday - More As Dusk Falls with my good friends Snake Halibaster and UltraVioletSheep 🐍🐑

Thursday - Jackbox Party Night with my community on Discord 🤡

Friday - The Legend of Zelda Tears of the Kingdom 🧝

Saturday - Death Stranding: Director’s Cut 🚼🦀

[astrcmoni]

୨♡୧⁀➷cupid’s kiss ୨♡୧⁀➷

MASTERLIST

synopsis: the city hums around you, a fleeting backdrop to roses, laughter, and the heat of her gaze. by night’s end, only tangled limbs and breathless whispers remain—fragments of a valentine’s you’ll never forget.

pairing: fem!reader x billie eilish

genre: fluff, smut

wc: 12.2k

warnings: car sex, cunnilingus (r! receiving), sexual teasing, talk of cum, making out ( let me know if i missed any)

authors note: i know this is coming out late but take it anyways. hope you enjoy this, happy valentine’s day everyone 💋

the soft melody of an old r&b song drifts quietly throughout your room, threading through the warm glow of the bedside lamp. the air is thick with the scent of vanilla and shea butter, settling into your skin like a second layer, like something familiar. your body sways slightly, hips moving in time with the slow rhythm, a motion so natural it feels like breathing.

your fingers find the lip liner with ease, wrapping delicately around its sleek body before lifting it to your mouth. the deep burgundy wax blooms against your skin as you trace the curve of your bottom lip, slow and steady, like painting something sacred. your cupid’s bow follows next, the tip of the pencil pressing just enough to carve out the shape, to sculpt without effort. your ring finger grazes the edge of your lips, the warmth of your skin melting the pigment just enough to blur the lines. slow, deliberate strokes soften the burgundy, blending it inward, fading like dusk into the fullness of your mouth. the color settles into something effortless, something lived-in—like you’ve been kissed, like you’ve kissed back.

your hand drifts to the tube of clear gloss lying discarded on your vanity, the light catching its sleek surface as your fingers wrap around it. you twist it open, pulling the wand free with a quiet pop before guiding it over your lips. the gloss drenches them in liquid shine, turning the deep berry into something richer, something decadent. it clings to every curve, catching the light with every slight movement. you part your lips just a little, watching how the gloss gleams, how it makes your mouth look fuller, softer—irresistible.

you lean back in your chair, eyes locked on your reflection, watching the way the gloss glows under the soft light. the burgundy, now hugged by gloss, looks like wine under candlelight—deep, warm, and impossible to ignore. you smack your lips together slightly, the wet sheen catching for a moment before settling again. satisfied, you reach up, fingers curling around one of the pinned rollers, sliding out the clip that holds it in place. the strand unfurls, falling in a soft wave against your shoulder.

this motion repeats, fingers working with practiced ease, unpinning each roller, letting the fresh blowout cascade around your face. the weight of your hair feels different now, lighter, freer. the song shifts, a familiar melody slipping through the speakers, and without thinking, your voice joins in—barely above a whisper, tracing the lyrics with quiet ease.

you reach for your black comb, running it through your hair, each strand slipping over the wide teeth like silk unraveling. the motion is rhythmic, soothing, a quiet kind of ritual that settles you further into the warmth of the moment.

the song playing is familiar, comforting—a melody wrapped in nostalgia, threaded with slow, honeyed vocals that make you feel like you’re sinking into something soft and golden. everything about this moment feels unhurried, like the night itself is waiting patiently for you to step into it. the scent of your perfume lingers in the air, a quiet presence mixing with the rhythm of the music, and for a second, you close your eyes, letting it all settle over you like a second skin.

nights like these make getting ready easy, slipping into the three-hour routine you’ve perfected over the years. there’s a tranquility in it, in the way you take your time, in the way you indulge yourself with each step. so when billie had told you earlier this week that on friday—valentine’s day—she was taking you out, you’d immediately started planning. appointments were booked, outfits were considered, and questions were asked, most of which she refused to answer, a teasing smile playing at the corners of her lips. “can’t give up the surprise,” she had murmured against your cheek, her breath warm, her fingers toying with the hem of your shirt. she did love to entertain your excitement, though, only telling you what she wanted you to know—just enough to keep you on edge, just enough to make you anticipate. dress cute but comfortable, that was all she’d given you, and somehow, it was enough.

the sound of keys jingling snaps you from your reverie, followed by the quiet creak of the front door unlocking, then locking again. a smile tugs at your lips, your heart picking up its pace just slightly as you hear the familiar weight of her footsteps approaching.

billie’s socks slide against the hardwood floor, the sound soft but distinct, accompanied by the light jangle of her keys in her pocket and the faint rustling of bags in her grasp. you don’t turn around just yet, but the curve of your lips deepens at the sound of her voice.

“baby, where are you?” her voice carries through the house, warm and familiar, wrapped in something easy, something tender.

“in here,” you call out, still running the comb through your hair, smoothing out the last few strands.

a few seconds later, she appears in the doorway, still bundled up from the february cold. the soft glow of your vanity lights catches the flushed pink of her cheeks, the tip of her nose slightly red from the chill. the red roots of her hair peek out from under her beanie, strands slipping loose beneath the hood of her sweatshirt. her eyes find yours instantly, flickering with something warm, something knowing.

she steps inside the room, making her way toward you, the scent of winter clinging to her clothes—cold air and something faintly sweet, like the bakery she always stops at on her way home.

your head tilts slightly to the left as you notice her hands hidden behind her back, her body language giving her away before she even speaks.

“hi, mama,” she starts, her voice soft, threaded with something breathless, like she rushed home just to give you whatever she’s holding.

she reveals her hands, stretching them toward you, and your breath catches just slightly. deep red roses, wrapped in crisp black paper, petals full and velvety to the touch. the contrast is striking—the darkness of the wrapping making the red stand out even richer, deeper. it’s intentional, you know that. billie has always had a way of making things feel like more than just gestures.

you turn fully to face her, your hands lifting as you take the bouquet, your nails grazing over the back of her hands in the process, a fleeting touch that makes her fingers twitch slightly. your fingertips brush the petals in quiet admiration, feeling the delicate texture beneath them. the scent fills your nose, heady and intoxicating—rich yet soft, like something meant to linger.

billie watches you, studying your reaction, the corner of her lip twitching like she’s holding back a smirk. there’s something in the way she looks at you—like she’s memorizing every detail, like she’s already picturing you in her arms later tonight. the warmth of it spreads through you, slow and deliberate, settling in your chest like a steady flame.

“these are gorgeous, babe. thank you.”

you tuck the flowers against your arm before reaching up, fingers finding the familiar warmth of her face. her skin is cool from the outside air, but she leans into your touch instinctively, eyes half-lidded, lips curving into something soft.

“it was nothing much, but you’re welcome.”

she inches closer, her breath warm against your lips before they finally meet—soft, lingering, unhurried. the kiss is brief but enough to send a slow shiver down your spine, enough to make her chase your lips when you pull away. her mouth parts slightly, instinctively, like she wasn’t ready to let you go just yet.

you chuckle under your breath, running your thumb over her lips, the smooth acrylic gliding over her plump skin—slightly sticky from your gloss. she lets out a soft hum at the touch, and just as her hands start to settle on your waist, you gently push her back.

“actually,” you start, rising from your vanity with ease before walking toward your side of the shared closet. “i have something for you too.”

billie watches you with open curiosity, shifting her weight, eyes following every move you make. she tugs at the hem of her hoodie absentmindedly as you crouch down, disappearing slightly into the closet’s dim interior.

your hands glide over folded sweaters, past stacked shoeboxes, feeling your way toward the back until your fingers brush against the satin ribbon-wrapped handle of the basket you’ve been carefully putting together for the past few days. you lift it gently, pulling it into the light, and stand, turning toward billie with a small smile as you stretch the basket toward her.

her eyes widen slightly, face lighting up as she takes it, fingers tracing over the red bow with something reverent. she shifts the weight of it in her hands, eyes scanning the contents nestled carefully in soft pink tissue paper—the little details that only you would think of, the things you know she’d love.

a candle that smells like vanilla and warm musk, the kind she always lights the second she gets home. a handwritten letter, its rose-colored envelope sealed with a kiss of your burgundy lip liner. a small plushie tucked beside her favorite snacks, something soft, something sentimental. and at the very center, a small box tied with a silk ribbon, holding a delicate bracelet that catches the light just enough to glint, subtle but intentional—just like her.

her smile spreads into a grin, the small gems on her teeth catching the glow of your vanity lights. she lifts her gaze back to you, something playful settling in her eyes.

“are you trying to one-up me?”

“always.” your response is immediate, your voice carrying the same playful lilt as hers.

billie exhales a soft laugh before setting the basket down carefully on your vanity, her fingers lingering on the ribbon for a moment before she turns back to you. without hesitation, she steps in close, arms slipping around your torso as she pulls you into her warmth.

you melt into it, arms looping around the back of her neck, fingers instinctively tangling together as your thumbs rest against her skin. her red roots brush against your knuckles, the smaller pieces of hair swaying slightly as you rub slow circles into the nape of her neck.

she leans down again, lips finding yours in a kiss slower than the last—soft, sweet, deep enough to make your breath hitch. it’s just enough to leave you wanting more before she pulls away, a quiet smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

“i gotta shower,” she murmurs, eyes flicking over you with something unreadable, something lingering. “but thank you for the gifts.”

her hands slide from your waist, moving with purpose, fingers trailing over each curve of your body as she makes her way up to where your hands rest against her neck. carefully, she unlaces your fingers from each other before cupping them in her own, holding them between you like something precious.

she squeezes once, gentle but firm, like a silent promise.

“i’ll be quick,” she adds, voice low, almost teasing. “don’t miss me too much.”

she takes a step back, her blue eyes raking over you in slow, deliberate strokes, like she’s committing every inch of you to memory.

your brow quirks in light confusion. “what? do i have something on me?”

billie huffs out a small laugh before reaching for your hand, lifting it above your head with gentle ease. “nah,” she murmurs, spinning you slowly. the skirt of your dress fans out as you move, fabric catching the soft glow of the vanity lights. when you come back around to face her, her smile has deepened, something playful tugging at her lips. “just admiring, that’s all.”

your eyes roll instinctively, but the warmth spreading across your chest betrays you. placing your hands on her chest, you give her a gentle push, the fabric of her hoodie soft beneath your palms. “will you hurry and go clean up so we can go?”

“pushy, pushy,” she teases, but she leans in anyway, pressing a kiss just beneath your ear, her lips lingering for a second longer than necessary. the hum she lets out vibrates against your skin before she pulls away, fingers already toying with the hem of her hoodie. she strips down with ease, leaving a trail of discarded clothes as she makes her way toward the connecting bathroom.

you shake your head at the mess she leaves behind, turning your attention to the bouquet still in your arms. you place the roses in a vase, arranging them carefully, the deep red petals almost glowing against the dim light of the room. the scent of them mixes with the faint traces of billie’s cologne still clinging to the air, something warm, something familiar.

the sound of water rushing through the pipes fills the space, followed by the muffled slide of the shower door.

“so, are you excited for tonight?” billie’s voice carries over the hiss of the water.

“i would be if i knew what it was, billie.”

“the whole point of a surprise date is so that it can be that—a surprise,” she teases. “just trust me, babe.”

you hum thoughtfully, bare feet padding softly against the carpet as you make your way to the bathroom. heat rises to greet you, steam curling around the glass shower door, clinging to the mirror. you lean against the doorframe, watching as billie’s figure shifts behind the fogged glass, her movements slow and unhurried.

“should i be worried?” you ask, voice laced with playful suspicion.

“no, not at all,” she says smoothly. “but you might wanna wear something cute and comfortable.”

“so, no heels then?”

she hums, considering. “mm… not tonight. your boots would look really cute with your fit.” a pause. “but you’ll still look fine as hell no matter what you decide.”

you shake your head, grinning. “flatterer.”

billie laughs, the sound soft and unfiltered, mixing with the warmth of the room. you stay there, talking about everything and nothing, letting the conversation weave between teasing remarks and familiar comforts.

soon enough, the water cuts off, the steam thick in the air as billie steps out. a towel is wrapped loosely around her torso, droplets of water still clinging to her skin, trailing slow paths down the curves of her body. the scent of her vanilla body wash wraps around you as she moves past, something rich and sweet, something undeniably her.

your eyes follow her, drawn to the way her damp hair drips against the towel slung around her shoulders, how her fingers comb through the strands with ease. she moves toward her side of the dresser, pulling out pieces of clothing with the same quiet deliberation she does everything else.

she hums softly as she gets dressed, a song that’s been playing faintly in the background, one you hadn’t even realized she was paying attention to. your gaze lingers as she buttons up her black shirt, her fingers sliding each button into its designated slot with ease. the fabric molds against her frame, and your focus catches on the slight flex of her biceps as she adjusts the cuffs, rolling them up just enough to reveal the lines of ink along her hand.

her eyes flick up toward the mirror, lips twitching into a smirk when she catches your gaze in the reflection. the soft glow of the vanity lights frames her features, turning her crystalline blue eyes into something almost ethereal, something impossible to look away from.

“you getting distracted?” she teases, slipping rings onto her fingers with practiced ease, the metal gliding against her skin. she picks up a delicate chain next, fastening the clasp at the nape of her neck, all without breaking eye contact.

“what? no, shut up,” you mutter, fighting the smile tugging at your lips. the warmth in her stare makes your stomach flip, but you ignore it, turning your attention to your jewelry box instead.

the sable black wood is smooth beneath your fingertips, the hinges sighing softly as you lift the lid. inside, nestled among delicate chains and glinting rings, rests a golden watch—slim, dainty, timeless. the light catches on its polished surface, tracing over the fine links of its bracelet, the minimalist face gleaming under the glow of the room.

with careful fingers, you lift it from its place, the cool metal whispering against your skin as you drape it over your wrist. the clasp clicks softly as you fasten it, the weight settling against you like it was made to be there. the gold catches the light, warm and radiant, an understated elegance that feels like a quiet kind of power.

you reach back into the box, extracting a necklace, its chain the same golden shade as your watch, its charm a simple letter. the ‘b’ sways lightly between your fingers, gleaming under the soft light. before you can put it on, billie stretches out her hand, palm up, a silent request.

you don’t hesitate. you never do.

stepping behind you, billie takes both ends of the necklace, the cool metal hovering just above your collarbone as her fingers slide over the clasp. her touch is featherlight, the brief brush of her knuckles against your skin leaving goosebumps in its wake. she hooks the clasp into place, then adjusts the necklace so the charm rests perfectly at the base of your throat.

but she doesn’t step away just yet.

her hands skim down your sides, fingertips grazing the fabric of your dress before settling on your hips. her eyes meet yours in the mirror, a silent moment stretching between you, filled with something unspoken, something deep.

your own initial rests boldly against her neck, a silver version instead of gold, the contrast striking yet complementary. a matched set, tied together in quiet devotion.

billie breaks the silence first, her voice soft but sure. “c’mon, we better go before we’re late.”

her fingers lace through yours, warm and familiar, and she leads you downstairs without another word.

you both move in sync, slipping on your shoes, grabbing your belongings with the kind of effortless ease that only comes with time. the door swings open, and the cool night air greets you, crisp and full of promise.

and just like that, you step out into the night, hand in hand.

the restaurant hums with low chatter and the soft clinking of silverware, but in your little corner booth, the world feels quieter, smaller—just the two of you wrapped up in each other. the dim lighting bathes the table in a soft amber glow, reflecting off wine glasses, the edges of flickering candlelight, and the soft sheen of your girlfriend’s silver jewelry, each little detail seeming to highlight the intimacy between you.

dinner feels like a secret, just the two of you tucked into the booth, close enough that your thighs press together, the warmth of her body a constant against yours. the room is alive with the sounds of the evening, but here, it’s just you two—the scent of rich food and something faintly floral lingering in the air, heavy with comfort and quiet affection.

instead of sitting across from each other, billie pulls you in beside her, her arm draped casually around the back of your seat, fingers lightly grazing your shoulder.

“you look so pretty,” she murmurs, her voice soft but sure, fingers tracing lazy, comforting patterns over your thigh, each stroke a promise, a reassurance.

you turn your head slightly, catching the fond smile tugging at her lips, the way her eyes soften when she looks at you. “you’ve said that three times already.”

she shrugs, her lips curling into an easy smile, unfazed by your teasing. “and i’ll say it again and again. and again.”

you roll your eyes playfully, but your heart flutters at the simplicity of the compliment. the sincerity of it makes the moment feel like something sacred, tucked away just for the two of you.

you lean into her side, your head coming to rest on a familiar shoulder, and breathe her in. her scent is intoxicating—vanilla with something deeper, more complex, something both soft and strong, feminine and masculine in perfect harmony. it clings to her skin, lingering in the collar of her shirt, curling into the space between you both, the scent threading through the warmth that lingers in the air.

“you smell so good,” you murmur, voice soft, just above a whisper, letting the words dissolve between your lips and her neck, filling the space around you with the quiet, tender intimacy of the moment.

billie huffs out a small laugh, fingers still toying with the lace of your stockings where her hand rests on your thigh. “i sure would hope so,” she teases, the smirk evident in her voice even before she presses a slow, deliberate kiss to the top of your head, her lips warm against the crown of your hair.

“why can’t you ever just accept the compliment?” the back of your hand meets her chest in a gentle hit, teasing but full of affection.

a soft chuckle escapes billie, her fingers still tracing idle patterns along your thigh. with a shift, she pulls out her phone, the screen lighting up in the dim atmosphere as she angles it to capture the moment. she snaps a few pictures—one with your faces close, the other where she leans in just enough to plant a kiss on your temple. her lips curl into a playful grin as she murmurs, “i hope you know that you’re really pretty.”

the phone is set aside, forgotten, discarded in favor of the quiet moment shared between you, the flashes of her smile and the soft hum of her voice lingering in the air, more cherished than any photograph could ever capture.

not long after, your plates arrive, the scent of rich spices and warm dishes curling into the air, drawing you both back to the present. you straighten just enough to reach for your fork, but billie’s arm doesn’t leave your side, her fingers still tracing small, absent patterns over the lace of your stockings.

dinner is slow, unhurried. you steal bites from each other’s plates, laughing at the most random things, exchanging soft kisses that feel like nothing and everything all at once—moments so small but somehow monumental in their own way. the world outside this booth fades into the background as you talk about everything from childhood memories to plans for the future.

the night is intimate, effortless—woven together with the kind of love that doesn’t need grand gestures or fireworks, just the softness of shared space, quiet compliments, the lightest touches, and the way your scents linger together in the small moments.

by the time dessert arrives, the last remnants of dinner sit on the table—half-empty glasses, a shared dessert plate with only a few crumbs left behind. the warmth of the evening lingers still, like the soft, steady beat of her heart beneath your palm. billie’s arm is still around you, her fingers absentmindedly tracing circles against your hip, the world outside the restaurant fading into something almost dreamlike.

billie reaches for the black checkbook the waiter left behind, flipping it open with a practiced flick of her wrist. her gaze lingers on the receipt for a moment, brows lifting slightly at the total, before she hums in approval, a quiet, satisfied sound that melts into the warm, dim atmosphere of the restaurant.

with your head still resting on her shoulder, you tilt your chin just enough to steal a glance at the numbers, your lips curling into a playful smirk. “not bad,” you murmur, your voice low, teasing, the words slipping out like a secret only the two of you share.

she lets out a soft chuckle, nudging you gently with her elbow. “you got a pen?” she asks, tapping the checkbook with her fingertips, the quiet request cutting through the gentle hum of the restaurant. “they forgot to bring one.”

without hesitation, you reach for your purse, fingers sifting through its contents, the familiar feel of soft leather under your fingertips grounding you in this quiet moment. you pull out a sleek, black pen, placing it in her waiting hand, watching as she takes it with a quick, fluid motion.

you watch as she signs the tip portion first, the ink gliding smoothly over the paper in practiced strokes, the sound of the pen scratching against the paper almost melodic in the stillness. then, with a small flourish, she signs off at the bottom—B.E. the letters are clean, effortless, holding a quiet confidence, the kind that’s always been so distinctly her. the way she carries herself, even in the smallest gestures, leaves an imprint on everything she touches.

after capping the pen and handing it back, your girlfriend slips a hand behind her phone, pulling out her sleek black american express card tucked safely in its case. the metal glints in the dim lighting as she slides it into the pocket of the checkbook with a satisfying tap, the motion final, almost ceremonial, as if everything is in its place now.

“there,” she leans in, her voice low and smooth against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. “all taken care of. so, are you ready for part two?” the waiter comes back around to your table, taking the little black book and slipping away to the back.

your hands wrap around her forearm, pulling her a little closer as you lift an eyebrow, brows shooting up in surprise at her question. “there’s more?”

“baby, there’s always more.” she grins, lips widening into that familiar, knowing smile of hers. she shifts slightly, pressing a soft kiss to the top of your head, the gesture tender, the warmth of her lips lingering.

your eyes wander around the restaurant, your mind spinning with endless possibilities of what could be next, the anticipation building. “where are we going?”

she smirks, slipping the black card back into her phone once the waiter returns, the subtle click of the card’s return echoing between you. “that’s for me to know and you to find out.” her tone is teasing, playful, as if she holds all the answers, but she’s not giving anything away just yet.

you purse your lips, trying to stop yourself from rolling your eyes for the thousandth time that night at her crypticness. but the corner of your mouth lifts, betraying the smile that threatens to break free. sliding out of the booth, billie stands, offering her hand to help you out of your seat, the warmth of her palm a comfort against yours. you take it without thinking, the connection between you electric, her hand soft but firm in yours.

she pulls you into a quick kiss, a soft press of her lips to yours, pulling away with a small hum of satisfaction before intertwining your fingers again. without missing a beat, she pulls you toward the door, your steps in sync, the cool night air just beyond, waiting to greet you both.

turns out, part two is top golf.

you burst out laughing as soon as she parks the car, the sound echoing into the quiet night. “seriously?” you ask, incredulous.

she grins, unbuckling her seatbelt with that familiar confident flick of her wrist. “what? you thought i was gonna take you to some bougie rooftop?”

“i don’t know what i thought,” you admit, still chuckling. “wasn’t expecting this though. but just so you know, i’m gonna win and whoop your ass in the process.”

“if you say so,” she replies, her voice laced with playful arrogance. “we all know i’m the real mvp when it comes to this.” the competitive fire in her voice sparks yours, and just like that, the trash talk begins.

the night air is crisp as billie opens the car door and steps out, the neon blue and green lights from the towering topgolf building ahead casting a vibrant glow that dances across her face. you pull your jacket tighter around you, feeling the cool bite of the night, but it’s nothing compared to the heat of your competitive banter. billie jogs around to your side, opening the door for you with a proud little smirk.

“chivalry isn’t dead, i see,” you tease, taking her hand as she helps you out of the car, your fingers intertwining effortlessly.

she winks, that signature glint in her eyes. “not when it comes to you.”

you round the car, making your way to the trunk. with the press of a button, the trunk pops open, and you dig around until you find what you’re looking for—a pair of random sneakers that somehow always end up in each other’s cars. you quickly slide off your boots, switching them out for the more comfortable pair of shoes before slipping your hand back into billie’s.

together, you make your way to the building, your footsteps light but purposeful.

inside, the atmosphere is buzzing—low music hums over the speakers, filling the space with an easy energy. the scent of fresh food and warm pretzels hangs in the air, mixing with the excitement that pulses through the crowd. billie leads the way, her fingers laced through yours, guiding you toward a private bay on the upper level.

you step out onto the platform, the cool breeze kissing your skin as you take in the sight of the open-air range stretched out before you. small targets glow in various colors across the field, the soft thrum of the city’s skyline flickering faintly in the distance. the air is crisp and clean, nipping at your skin with the promise of something new.

“i won’t lie, this is pretty cool,” you admit, leaning against the railing, your voice quieter now, soaking in the moment. “didn’t expect this for valentine’s, though.”

billie grins, grabbing a golf club from the rack, her fingers curling around it with the same ease she handles everything else. “you know i like to keep you on your toes.”

she moves toward the tee, rolling her shoulders like she’s about to do something serious. you cross your arms over your chest, watching her with a mixture of admiration and amusement. she plants her feet, squares her shoulders, and grips the club with entirely too much confidence, as if she’s the queen of golf—never mind that she’s never swung a club in her life.

“you’ve never golfed before, have you?” you ask, a teasing smile tugging at the corners of your lips.

“nope,” she replies confidently, rolling her shoulders again, a small huff escaping her. “but i’ve watched golf before. can’t be that hard.”

you stifle a laugh, shaking your head. “famous last words. okay, we’ll see.”

“watch and learn, baby.” she takes a deep breath, a focused look crossing her face as she swings the club—

—and completely misses the ball.

a laugh bursts out of you before you can stop it, and you quickly cover your mouth to stifle it, but the sound escapes anyway. she straightens up, staring down at the untouched ball with a look of pure betrayal, as if it’s personally offended her.

“that was practice,” she mutters, giving you a look of mock annoyance.

“uh huh, sure it was,” you tease, barely holding back another laugh.

she tries again—this time, she makes contact, but the ball barely rolls off the tee, a soft, unimpressive nudge that doesn’t go anywhere near the target. you double over laughing now, unable to hold it in, while billie pouts, gripping the club like she’s debating throwing it across the range.

she tries once more, swinging with more force this time, the ball barely rolling off the tee again, stopping embarrassingly short of the edge.

“oh wow,” you say, feigning awe, crossing your arms. “real impressive, tiger woods.”

billie groans, dragging a hand down her face in exasperation. “this shit is so annoying.”

you step toward her, shaking your head fondly. “here, let me help.”

“okay, first of all, that’s not how you hold it,” you say, sliding in behind her, your voice warm against her ear. you wrap your arms around her waist, gently guiding her hands to the club. billie relaxes against you, her body fitting perfectly with yours as she tilts her head just enough for her nose to brush against your cheek.

“this is just an excuse to be all over me, isn’t it?” she murmurs, her voice dropping low, just enough to send a shiver down your spine, making your heart beat a little faster.

you smirk, letting your hands linger longer than necessary as you adjust her grip. “maybe.”

her breath is soft on your skin as you guide her through the motion, adjusting her stance, speaking in a calm, steady whisper. she listens intently, her usual cocky confidence melting into something else—vulnerable, trusting. you pull her arms back with yours before swinging forward together, your hearts aligned for just a moment. when she swings this time, the ball sails smoothly through the air, slicing the cool night sky before landing in one of the further targets.

billie gasps, her eyes wide in disbelief, and then she breaks into a triumphant cheer. “did you see that?”

you laugh, clapping along with her, unable to stop the smile from spreading across your face. “okay, i’ll give you that one.”

“i’m such a natural,” she says smugly, grabbing another ball with a flourish, her pride practically radiating from her. “bet i can do it again.”

she tries. and she fails.

you don’t even bother hiding your laughter this time, the sound spilling out freely, echoing in the open space. billie glares at the club, as though it’s personally betrayed her, before she sets it down with a dramatic sigh, her shoulders slumping in mock defeat.

“alright, your turn,” she declares, grabbing your hand and pulling you forward, her fingers warm and confident in yours.

you smirk, stepping up to the tee. “are you sure? i really don’t wanna embarrass you more than i already have.”

“girl, please,” billie scoffs, crossing her arms with a raised brow, her lips curving into a teasing smile. “let’s see what you got.”

“don’t say i didn’t tell you so,” you warn, your voice playful, but with a hint of challenge. billie rolls her eyes but can’t quite hide the smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

grabbing the club from her hand, you turn back to the tee, adjusting your stance, lining up your shot with precision. the cool air brushes against your face, but all you feel is the steady calm in your chest. you take a steady breath, the world slowing down as you pull back. and then you swing—watching as the ball soars effortlessly through the air, its trajectory perfect, landing dead center in one of the smaller, harder-to-hit targets.

you smile to yourself, turning to billie, who’s staring at you with wide eyes and a mock pout. “well, i guess i did warn you,” you say, voice light but triumphant.

billie crosses her arms over her chest, her grin impossible to suppress. “alright, alright. you’re good. but i’m still gonna beat you next round.”

billie lets out a low whistle, her gaze lingering on you with a mischievous smile. “well damn. look at you.”

you grin, turning toward her, an eyebrow arched in playful challenge. “what, impressed?”

she gestures lazily toward the club in your hand, her lips curling into a half-smirk. “nah, just realizing i have no shot at winning.”

“it’s all love for the game, baby. all love.” you tease, pressing a soft kiss to her cheek before handing her back the golf club, your fingers lingering for a moment longer than necessary.

the night stretches on, the air growing cooler but the energy between you two never faltering. playful bets are made, stolen kisses shared, and competitive spirits run high, but it’s never about the score—it’s the moments in between, the laughter, the teasing, the way your fingers always seem to find each other in the quietest moments.

at some point, billie decides she’s had enough of golf and just wants to watch you play. she leans against the railing, her chin resting in her hands, her eyes fixed on you like you’re the only thing worth looking at. her smile is soft but mischievous, and every time you line up a shot, she can’t resist making sly comments.

“bet you can’t hit that red target.”

you take a breath, steady your stance, and with a smooth swing, you nail it. the ball rips through the air, landing right in the center of the red target.

billie’s eyes widen, a laugh escaping her lips. “i mean, okay, but can you do it again?”

you don’t even hesitate, stepping up and lining up your shot once more. this time, you hit it even more effortlessly, the ball flying through the air with a perfect arc, landing in the same spot.

billie’s mouth drops open in awe, a laugh escaping her. “oh,” she says, blinking rapidly as if she’s trying to process what just happened. “so you’ve clearly done this before.”

you glance at her, a smirk tugging at your lips as you shrug casually. “i told you i was gonna win. all them summers working at the country clubs are finally paying off.”

her gaze softens as she looks at you, something between admiration and amusement twinkling in her eyes. “you’re a showoff, you know that?”

“maybe,” you reply with a wink. “but you love it.”

when the game winds down and the competitive fire starts to fade, the two of you pack up the equipment and make your way back to the car. hand in hand, you walk in comfortable silence, the sounds of the night around you soft and distant. the car sits idly in the driveway, the engine’s hum now silenced, but neither of you makes a move to get out just yet.

the warmth of the evening clings to you both—the laughter, the touches, the shared moments. you lean into one another, heads resting against the soft leather of the car seats, letting the night wash over you. the radio hums low in the background, filling the quiet space between breaths, the soft melody a perfect contrast to the silence surrounding you.

billie traces lazy circles on your knee, her fingers moving with an absent rhythm as she speaks in a softer tone, her voice barely louder than the hum of the radio.

“i just can’t believe…” she begins, her voice trailing off as she drops her head against your shoulder, pressing a soft smooch against the exposed skin of your neck. you feel the warmth of her breath, the weight of her presence, before she continues, her voice playful but with an edge of disbelief. “i got hustled on valentine’s day.”

you chuckle softly, a grin tugging at your lips. “i told you that i would beat you, did i not?”

“you did, you did.” her body shakes with laughter, the sound rich and deep, filling the car with warmth. the vibrations of her amusement carry through her body, against yours, and you close your eyes for a moment, letting the sensation wash over you. she tilts her head slightly, looking up at you with that familiar glint in her eyes. “did you have fun?” she asks, her voice soft, almost tender, as if she already knows the answer.

you glance at her, caught in the way the streetlights reflect in her eyes, the way the soft curve of her lips pulls at your heart. something about this moment, about her, feels like it’s suspended in time.

“yeah,” you murmur, leaning into her, feeling her warmth seep into your skin. “i really did. thank you.”

you shift slightly, turning towards her. your hands find her face, cupping it gently, your thumb brushing over the soft skin of her cheek. you tilt her chin upward with your fingers, and she meets your gaze, her lashes fluttering slightly as if she’s still processing the moment. you don’t rush it. you take your time, breathing her in, feeling the weight of her in your arms. you brush your nose against hers, the tip of your lips grazing her skin, before closing the space between you.

when your lips meet hers, the kiss is slow, tender—a stark contrast to the fiery ones you shared earlier in the night. it lingers, soft and sweet, and when you pull back, your hand still rests gently on her jaw, your breath mingling with hers. your eyes trace over her face, soaking in the small details—the way the moonlight dances across her freckled skin, the cool acrylic of your nails making contact with her soft skin beneath her eyes. her blue eyes meet yours through thick lashes, steady and knowing.

you push a stray lock of hair behind her ear, admiring the vibrant red gradient in her hair. the soft, colorful streaks stand out against the dim light, adding to the allure of the moment. “my pretty lady,” you whisper, your voice barely above a breath, your words falling into the quiet void of the night.

billie’s lips curl into a small, knowing smile, her eyes soft and full of affection. her hand drifts to the side of your neck, cupping it gently. she pulls you closer, bringing your lips back to hers in a kiss that’s even more lingering, more desperate this time. her fingers tighten slightly around your neck as she murmurs, “c’mere.”

her voice is soft, but the way she tugs you forward, the way her fingers press against your skin—there’s no hesitation in her touch. no second-guessing.

you shift your body, moving onto your knees and climbing over the center console, settling yourself into her lap like you’ve done it a hundred times before. the familiarity of her body beneath yours feels like home. billie tilts her head back, her eyes heavy with desire, and she looks up at you, her hands already smoothing over your hips, guiding you closer.

you lean down again, kissing her once more. this time, it’s deeper, slower. no rush. just the two of you, lost in the quiet space of the night, in the warmth of each other. her fingers trace over your body as the kiss deepens, and everything else—the world outside, the night, the distractions—fades away, leaving only the feeling of her lips, the softness of her touch, and the rhythm of your hearts beating together.

billie’s fingers slip under the hem of your dress, tracing slow, teasing patterns along your hips, the light touch sending electric shivers up your spine. her lips move against yours with a quiet urgency, each kiss deepening, pulling you closer into her orbit. the taste of her—of warmth, of something sweet and just a little dangerous—lingers on your tongue. she sighs softly as your hand slides into her hair, your nails grazing her scalp just enough to make her shiver beneath your touch.

the moment stretches, pulling you both deeper into it, a world of soft breaths and whispered sighs until you finally break apart, just enough to catch your breath. the air between you feels thick, charged with something both tender and intoxicating.

and then you notice it.

a faint tint of your lip gloss smudged against billie’s mouth, glistening faintly under the dim light, a soft shimmer against the dark of the night. you blink, your lips curling into a small, knowing smile. then, you let out a quiet laugh, the sound soft but playful.

she frowns slightly, brows knitting together in mock confusion. “what?”

you swipe a thumb over the corner of her lips, smirking as you catch the gloss. “you got a little something there.”

billie blinks, feigning confusion, her eyes wide as if she’s innocent in all of this. “huh. weird.”

you tilt your head, the corner of your mouth twitching into a grin. “oh my god, were you kissing a girl?”

billie gasps, her eyes widening in mock horror, hands rising to her face as if she’s genuinely scandalized. “what? no, ew. i would never. didn’t even know you could kiss a girl.”

you narrow your eyes playfully, dabbing at the smudge again with your thumb, a sly grin creeping onto your lips. “mhm. sure. then where’d this lip gloss come from?”

her lips twitch, fighting the urge to smirk. she tilts her head slightly, the glint of mischief in her eyes as she leans closer. “i don’t know, maybe i just like the taste.”

you snort, the sound escaping before you can stop it. “i knew you liked wearing my lip gloss. every time i put a new coat on, you’re there to take it off.”

billie hums in amusement, letting her hands slide lower over your thighs, her touch warm and possessive as she pulls you closer. “i only like it when it tastes like you.”

her fingers tighten slightly around your hips, pulling you just a little closer as her breath warms the space between you. she murmurs, her voice low and teasing, “what flavor is this, anyways, hm?”

you barely get the word—cherry—out before she’s leaning back in, her lips pressing to yours in a kiss that’s slow, deep, and all-encompassing. she tastes the answer for herself, her mouth devouring yours with an intensity that makes your pulse race.

billie’s lips are warm and insistent against yours, a steady rhythm pulsing between you. her hands are firm on your hips, guiding you closer as she presses you down against her lap. it’s like she can’t get enough, pulling you closer still, urging your bodies to align. the teasing, playful pace from earlier has shifted into something heavier now, something more desperate, more urgent. a charge fills the air, and you know there’s no turning back from this.

her hands move with purpose, effortlessly sliding your jacket off and tossing it into the passenger seat. she crawls back up, fingers slipping under the hem of your dress, tracing the sensitive curve of your spine as she leans in, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses down the line of your jaw. your breath hitches, and you tip your head to the side, exposing more of your neck as she continues her slow descent, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin there.

billie hums softly against you, the sound vibrating against your skin, before her tongue flicks out, teasing before she sucks gently at the spot. her teeth graze your skin lightly, just enough to send a jolt of heat through you. the sting is subtle but enough to make you shudder, and she feels it, her grin widening as she pulls back slightly, knowing she’s marked you.

you hesitate for only a moment, fingers fumbling at the buttons of her black shirt, your freshly done acrylics not quite cooperating. you huff, frustration creeping in as you try again, but each button seems to taunt you, stubborn and unyielding.

billie notices the shift, the slight furrow of your brows, the barely-there frustration in your movements. she chuckles softly, her lips brushing over the sensitive skin of your throat as she murmurs, “i’ll let you rip off my shirt,” her voice low, almost playful. “if you let me rip off your stockings.”

you immediately shake your head, a small, defiant smirk tugging at your lips. “hell no.”

her teeth graze your collarbone, a teasing bite that sends a shiver down your spine. “why not?” she asks, her voice dripping with mischief.

“because i like these stockings,” you argue, fingers still fumbling at her shirt. “you’ll ruin them.”

she raises an eyebrow, her smirk only deepening. “you’re literally about to ruin my shirt.”

her hands slide lower, smoothing over the sensitive skin of your thighs, and your resolve weakens. you bite your lip, still determined to win this little battle, but the buttons refuse to cooperate. billie watches you for a moment longer, her breath warm against your skin, before she lets out a soft laugh.

“just rip it, baby,” she whispers, her voice slipping into something softer, something more inviting. it’s a command wrapped in honeyed sweetness.

you glance at her, lips parted, hesitating for just a heartbeat before you finally give in. gripping the fabric of her shirt in your fists, you yank, feeling the fabric tear free with a satisfying rip. the buttons scatter across the floor of the car, a soft clatter lost beneath the hum of the engine. her shirt falls open, revealing the lacy red bra beneath, the smoothness of her skin glowing under the dim light.

billie groans, a low sound that sends another wave of heat rushing through you. her smirk widens as she takes in the moment, teasing, “see? that wasn’t so hard.”

you exhale, half amused, half breathless. “you’re ridiculous.”

she hums, hands sliding back up your thighs, fingertips brushing the tops of your stockings with a deliberate slowness. “mmm. and you still have these on,” she says, her voice soft with amusement.

you barely have time to react before her fingers hook under the thin material of your stockings, pulling with a sudden, almost greedy force. they rip apart with a sharp sound, fabric tearing easily, and you’re left breathless at the sound of it echoing between you.

“billie—” you gasp, your words cutting off as she grins at you, the heat in her eyes unmistakable.

she leans in, kissing you again, her hands gripping your bare thighs now, her touch firm and possessive as she pulls you closer, pressing you flush against her. she’s got you exactly where she wants you, and in that moment, you realize she always has.

the car feels smaller with every passing second, the space between you two shrinking with each touch. billie’s hands are everywhere—on your hips, your thighs, your back—and it only takes a slight shift for her to pull you closer. her lips find your neck with a hunger that leaves you breathless, pressing kisses along your pulse, each one lingering, tasting, claiming you. you can feel the heat of her body radiating against yours, the way her chest rises and falls with each steady breath, the rhythm syncing with the soft hum of the car, vibrating the air between you two.

billie’s lips tease your skin in that slow, deliberate way she knows drives you crazy. she finds a tender spot along your collarbone, sucking gently, and you can’t help but gasp. your hands slide into her hair, fingers gripping the strands as you pull her closer, your body melting into her touch, giving in to the way she makes you feel.

you want to tear away every last bit of space between you, want to feel every inch of her pressed against you, but there’s something intoxicating about how she keeps you on the edge, never letting you get too comfortable, too settled.

billie’s fingers trail over your bare thighs, skimming dangerously close to the places you crave her touch, but always pulling away before you can get the release you want. your hips shift, grinding ever so slightly against hers, the movement subtle but enough to make her gasp, her lips parting against your mouth as she leans into you.

“billie,” you murmur, voice strained, thick with desire.

she smiles against your skin, that familiar mischievous grin tugging at her lips, before pressing another soft kiss to your pulse. “i know. i know,” she breathes, her voice low, full of that dangerous teasing she knows you can’t resist.

your hands run over the half-ruined buttons of her shirt, the black fabric hanging off her shoulders, and your fingers graze the warmth of her skin underneath. billie shivers under your touch, her breath hitching as your nails lightly scrape down her chest, sending a shiver of her own through you.

restlessly, you shift in her lap, pressing your hips against hers again. the friction makes your breath catch, your body aching for more, and billie groans, her hands sliding down to your back, trying to pull you even closer, her grip tightening around you.

“baby,” you breathe, nails dragging lightly across her chest. “we’re still in the car…”

she laughs softly, the sound rich and low as her lips brush over yours, pulling you closer still. “i know,” she murmurs, her voice thick with desire. “but we’re already here, and you’ve been driving me wild all night. i want you, so bad, babe.”

a beat passes, the tension building between you two. you glance at her, debating whether you really wanted to do this outside, but the temptation is too strong, and you can’t resist any longer.

“fuck it,” you say with a smirk, pulling away slightly. “get in the back.”

you climb off her and crawl into the back seat, billie following you, her movements fluid, eager. she climbs on top of you as soon as she’s in, her lips crashing against yours with a renewed hunger, a fire that’s impossible to put out now. the world outside doesn’t matter anymore—only this, only her, and only the eternal burning need that’s been building between you two since the moment you met.

“you look so pretty laid out for me,” billie murmurs, her voice thick with desire as she leans back in to catch your lips in a searing kiss.

the movements are slow at first, deliberate, like neither of you want to rush, to break the fragile moment. but the tension is undeniable, building with every touch, every kiss, every whispered breath shared between you two.

she’s intoxicating, her lips leaving fiery trails along your neck, her hands roaming over every inch of skin they can reach. each caress feels like it burns, leaving you desperate for more. and you… you’re lost in it, every brush of her fingertips sending jolts of electricity through your veins, something wild and uncontainable awakening inside you.

the heat of the car presses in on you, the soft hum of the radio playing a low, almost forgotten tune, the scent of billie’s perfume mingling with the natural, heady mix of your bodies—it all swirls together into a dizzying, intoxicating fog, until all you can focus on is the way her body fits so perfectly against yours, the way she makes you feel like you’re being consumed, like you’re everything to her in this moment.

her fingers trail up your sides, grazing the sensitive skin of your breasts, and you shiver under her touch, your body aching to get closer, to feel all of her pressed up against you. the heat in your chest swells, that ache becoming almost unbearable.

you can’t take it anymore. your hands find the fabric of her shirt, fingers tugging at it, desperate to get it off, to feel her skin against yours. but billie’s already one step ahead, her hands slipping beneath the fabric of your dress, her fingers finding their way to the waistband of your underwear. the feeling of her pressing against your skin has you gasping, your hips bucking instinctively, the intensity of the moment overwhelming you.

“billie,” you breathe, eyes locked on hers, your voice trembling with need.

she looks down at you, eyes dark with hunger, her lips curling into a grin. “gonna make you feel so good, mama,” she promises, her voice rough and low, sending shivers down your spine.

you nod without hesitation, your breath catching in your throat as your heart races in time with the pulse between you.

with that, billie’s hands slide up to your shoulders, pushing the straps of your dress down, revealing the soft skin of your breasts beneath. she kisses her way down your neck again, her lips moving with purpose, each kiss leaving a trail of heat in its wake. you gasp, unable to focus on anything but the way her mouth worships your skin, the way she makes you feel like you’re the center of her universe.

you can barely keep up, barely focus as her hands move expertly, slipping the dress further down your body, inch by inch, until it pools at your waist. billie pauses for a beat, her hands resting on your bare thighs, and she looks up at you with a grin that sets your pulse racing, her eyes dark with anticipation.

“god, you’re perfect,” she breathes, her voice raw, full of desire as she continues to trace soft patterns on your skin.

you bite your lip, a mix of excitement and need building inside you, ready for whatever she’s about to do next.

before you can respond, billie’s lips are back on yours, kissing you with a hunger that feels almost desperate, as if she can’t get enough of you. her hands roam over your body, caressing every inch of exposed skin, making you shiver with the intensity of her touch, the contrast between the warmth of her skin and the coolness of the car’s air intensifying the need coursing through you.

billie’s fingers trail slow, lazy circles over your thighs, her touch featherlight, teasing, like she’s savoring every second. the dress is bunched around your waist now, exposing more of you to the cool air, but the warmth of her hands keeps you grounded, keeps you tethered to the moment. you shiver beneath her touch, anticipation humming in every inch of your skin, every nerve ending on fire, alive with the promise of what’s to come.

your hands move quickly, eager, tugging at the last of her clothes. you want to feel all of her, need her as much as she needs you. as soon as her shirt is off, her skin exposed to you, she slides her hands to the band of your underwear, her fingers tracing the wine-colored elastic before she moves lower, teasing your pussy through the fabric, sending waves of heat rushing through you.

her touch is maddening, and it elicits a gasp from you, your hips rising instinctively as you try to rub against her fingers, desperate for more.

“billie, please,” you breathe, voice strained with need, the word a plea, a quiet demand for more, for her to finally give you what you’ve been aching for.

she leans back slightly, her eyes flickering over you with a predatory gleam, lips curling into that smug, knowing smirk she wears whenever she knows she has you exactly where she wants you. her hands slide lower, fingers tracing the outline of your panties, grazing over the fabric that clings to your skin, but she doesn’t push any further—just lets her knuckles skim over you, her touch barely there, a slow, teasing build that has you aching with need.

you whine softly, shifting against her lap, trying to press closer, but billie tightens her grip just enough to hold you in place. “patience, baby,” she murmurs, voice low and dripping with amusement, each word a promise that makes your chest tighten. “i’m taking my time with you.”

her lips find your inner thigh, pressing a slow, deliberate kiss to the sensitive skin. the warmth of her mouth sends a shiver through you, a tremor that runs deep, and you exhale shakily, fingers gripping her shoulders, nails digging into the fabric of her shirt. billie hums at your reaction, pleased, and kisses you again—this time, her lips linger, her tongue flicking out ever so slightly against your skin.

you let out a soft gasp, tilting your head back against the cool leather seat, trying to hold onto some semblance of control. “baby…” you breathe, the word thick with the need she’s ignited in you.

“hm?” she muses, feigning innocence, before pressing another kiss a little higher, her thumb brushing teasingly over your panties. the wet patch grows beneath her touch, your breath hitching with the frustration of wanting her to go further, her fingers never quite where you need them. her teasing is maddening, and it’s almost too much, yet somehow, it makes you crave her more.

she continues like this, slow and deliberate, working her way up your skin with open-mouthed kisses, sucking gently at certain spots, her teeth grazing over the tender flesh just enough to make your breath catch. each movement is calculated, like she’s drawing you into a pattern of her design. when she pulls back to admire her work, a dark mark blooms against your warm skin, and you realize she’s left her mark on you—not just physically, but mentally, too.

a pleased hum vibrates against your thigh as she starts again, her lips mapping out a pattern you can’t quite understand yet. your body twitches under her touch, a restless energy coursing through you, your legs instinctively trying to press together, but she huffs a laugh and nudges them apart again with ease, her fingers brushing against the sensitive skin of your inner thighs as she does.

“don’t be shy now,” she teases, her breath hot against your skin, fingers inching closer to where you need her most. “you were just begging for my fingers a second ago.”

you shoot her a glare, but it melts into a shuddering sigh when she presses another firm kiss against the inside of your thigh, sucking just enough to make the sensation linger, leaving a burning heat in its wake.

she’s careful with it—meticulous, almost—as if she’s an artist, and you’re her canvas. every kiss, every mark she leaves, is deliberate, calculated. you barely notice at first, lost in the sensation of her lips on your skin, each touch pulling you deeper into a haze of want, but then she pulls back slightly, running her fingers over the fresh bruises she’s left with a satisfied smirk, her eyes dark with desire.

“there,” she murmurs, her voice low and breathy, eyes flicking up to meet yours, a quiet challenge in her gaze. “a little love note, just for you.”

your chest still rises and falls in uneven breaths, and your stomach flips at the sight—small, darkened spots forming an unmistakable shape. a heart. billie had kissed a heart into your thigh, the skin bruised with passion, marked by her deliberate touch. you can almost feel the heat of her lips lingering there, the soft press of her mouth still tangible against your skin.

your heart stutters in your chest as you look at her, something warm and fond flickering beneath the haze of desire that clouds your mind. it’s impossible to ignore the way she makes you feel—alive, adored, cherished. she grins up at you, her eyes sparkling with mischief, her thumb brushing lazily over the top of your underwear, still teasing but softer now, gentler, almost playful in the way she traces patterns over you.

“you like it?” she asks, her voice dripping with a knowingness that only adds to the fire in your veins.

you bite your lip, your hand coming up to run through her soft hair, the strands slipping through your fingers like silk. “yeah,” you murmur, your voice hoarse with the weight of your feelings. “you’re ridiculous.”

billie laughs, the sound light and melodic, but there’s a tenderness to it, an affection that tugs at something deep inside you. she presses a final kiss to the center of the heart she’s left on your thigh, her lips soft but lingering, marking you with something that feels like ownership, like love. “only for you, baby,” she says, her words a promise, a whisper just for you.

she pulls herself back up, lips brushing against yours, and you kiss her slow, deep—tasting her like you need her to breathe. your hands tangle in the fabric of her shirt, pulling her closer as the kiss deepens, as you lose yourself in the warmth of her body against yours. the heat of her touch, the press of her chest against yours, is enough to make your head spin, but it’s the lingering sting of her love bites against your skin that keeps you grounded, reminding you of the way she worships you—takes her time with you—tenderly, patiently.

her fingers trace the edge of your underwear, teasing at the waistband before slipping underneath, slowly peeling the fabric down your thighs. the pace is maddeningly slow, deliberate, as if she’s savoring every second of it. you inhale sharply as the cool air grazes your skin, the shift of temperature making every nerve stand on edge.

a soft smile curls on billie’s lips as her gaze flickers up at you, dark and heavy with desire, before her middle finger traces the line of your slit, gathering the slickness of your arousal.

“mm, you’re so wet, baby,” she murmurs, her voice thick, resting her head against your thigh as she watches you squirm beneath her touch, delighting in your reaction.

you moan softly, hips instinctively lifting, desperate for more. “billie, please… just… fuck,” you whine, your body aching with need. your hand slides down to grasp hers, trying to guide it, but she gently moves your hand away, a teasing glint in her eyes as she watches your frustration grow.

“stop it, just tell me what you want from me mama.” she continues her lazy strokes on your slit as she speaks, her knuckles occasionally brushing against your clit.

“i want your mouth, billie come on, please..”

“see that’s all you had to do. just had to be nice and patient.” she plants another kiss to your inner thigh before removing her fingers from your core. wrapping her slick covered fingers around your thighs, the coldness of her rings contrasting against the warmth of your skin, while moving her face down to where you craved for her the most.

she plants a kiss on your mound right above your clit before moving lower, each smooch slower than the last. her lips move against your flesh in open mouthed kisses, sending fluttering butterflies all throughout your body, before stoping at your dripping hole. darting her tongue out, she licks from there all the way back up to your clit, moaning at the sheer taste of you.

you gasp as her lips press against your cunt, a shiver running through your body. your hands instinctively find their way to her hair, fingers curling around soft strands as she kisses you with slow, deliberate movements. her touch is tender yet full of intent, each kiss a promise of more, but also savoring the moment.

her fingers gently trace the curves of your thighs, the warmth of her hands sending waves of anticipation through you. she takes her time, exploring you with a patience that only intensifies the longing building inside you. every kiss, every gentle press of her lips, feels like it’s drawing you closer to something almost ethereal, the world around you fading as you lose yourself in the sensation.

you feel the weight of her affection in every movement, in every deliberate, lingering touch. the softness of her lips contrasts with the fierceness of the emotions she evokes within you. you cover your face, overwhelmed by the way she’s making you feel—utterly cherished, completely in tune with each other. her presence surrounding you.

“uht-uht,” she murmurs, pulling back slightly, her breath hot against you. she places your arm gently back at your side, her eyes locking with yours. “i need to see you, my love.”

you nod, unable to speak, lost in the intensity of the moment. billie leans forward, her lips leaving soft, lingering kisses against your stomach, each one sending a shiver through you. her gaze is steady, her eyes dark with intent, as she watches you closely.

with a delicate touch, she traces the line of your slit, her fingers grazing over your clit, sending waves of warmth and desire in their wake. her movements are slow, almost reverent, while she slides her tongue in your soaked cunt, as if she’s savoring every inch of you. each kiss, each touch, each caress, makes you feel as though time has stopped, and it’s just the two of you, locked in this tender, intimate connection.

you can’t help but moan softly as she continues, your body responding to the feeling of her tongue filling up your spongy walls, every nerve awake and alive. your breath comes in shallow gasps, and your legs clench shut around her head as you arch into her touch instinctively. billie moves her fingers from around your thigh and over to your stomach, pressing down against the pressure that’s built up in your tummy and that’s enough to make you snap. her lips curling up into a soft smile as she watches you unravel beneath her, her hands gently massaging your thighs, grounding you.

when she pulls away, you lean up slightly, watching her, your eyes searching for her every movement. you can feel the lingering warmth of her touch, and the space between you seems to throb with a quiet intensity, each second stretching longer, pulling you deeper into the moment.

leaning on your elbows, you study billie, captivated by the way she savors every drop of you, her movements slow and deliberate. she’s taking her time, and you can’t help but marvel at the tenderness with which she handles you, as if she’s savoring a rare treasure. her fingers graze your thighs, soothing you in the aftermath, the cool air brushing over your skin contrasting with the warmth of her touch.

“you’ve got a little something on your face,” you murmur teasingly, your voice soft and still shaky from the intensity that’s passed between you. your chest rises and falls in rhythm, trying to catch its breath, the air thick with the memory of her.

billie’s eyes twinkle with a playful glint, her lips curling into a smile that promises more. “oh, do i?” she replies, voice smooth, teasing. the faint traces of you on her skin glimmer softly beneath the streetlights, each speck a reminder of the connection that’s left its mark on both of you. she leans in, her breath warm against your lips, and plants a kiss that’s gentle at first, but deepens as her tongue dances with yours, lingering just long enough for you to feel the passion she still holds for you, every movement deliberate and drawn out.

breaking away with a soft sigh, you reach down, fingers brushing the cool floor as you retrieve her torn black shirt. the fabric still holds the heat of the night, the memory of everything you just shared, and with a playful smile, you bring it to her face, wiping away the traces of your cum off her chin. billie’s laughter bubbles up, soft and content, mingling with the quiet hum of the night air. she nestles into your chest, her head resting against you as her fingers lazily trace patterns along your hip. each touch is soothing, almost reverent, as though she wants to savor every moment, every last bit of you.

“you always get me so messy,” she murmurs with a teasing smile, her lips brushing your skin as she speaks. you can feel the warmth of her breath, the sweet weight of her words hanging between you two. her fingers continue their gentle path, her touch warm against your bare skin.

“well, you’re not exactly innocent in all this, billie,” you reply with a smile, still catching your breath. the air between you is thick with affection, soft and gentle, the aftermath of everything you’ve shared unfolding around you in the stillness. the quiet of the night feels like a cocoon, wrapping you both in a peaceful, contented embrace.

billie grins at you, her gaze catching the dim light of the room. “true,” she says, her voice playful yet soft. “but now i have to clean it up.”

you laugh, the sound light and carefree, the weight of the moment easing into something warm and familiar. the two of you begin to gather your clothes, the movement slow and deliberate, as if the night didn’t have to end. the warmth between you both lingers even as you pull your jackets on, the fabric settling over your shoulders like a soft blanket.

the quiet hum of the world outside seems too peaceful, too perfect, as you both step out of the car, your hands intertwining as you walk toward the front door of your home.

the house is dark and quiet when you enter, the warmth inside wrapping around you both as you kick off your shoes, your jackets still draped over your arms. the night feels like it’s been stretched out in the best way, the both of you in sync as you move through the space.

you both pause in the hallway, your eyes meeting for a brief moment that holds more than just a glance. a slow, lingering kiss follows—gentle, soft, yet carrying the weight of everything you’ve shared tonight.

“happy valentine’s day,” billie whispers against your lips, her voice tender as she pulls away just enough to look at you, a smirk tugging at the corner of her mouth.

you smile back, warmth flooding your chest, knowing that this night, this moment, was exactly what you both needed. “yeah. happy valentine’s day indeed. it’s been nothing short of perfect,” you whisper, your arms wrapping around her as you hold her close.

and with that, the night continues on, the soft hum of the house surrounding you both as you settle into the quiet comfort of each other’s company. the world may continue outside, but in this space, with billie in your arms, you know that no moment could be more perfect than this one.

astrc’s tag list: @zendayasredbottoms @bilsdillldough @billiesrighthand @watercolorskyy @bilssturns @47lake @vijaxx @natbelovasblog @hopingforgoodblogs @thefeverburningalive @st0nerlesb0 @blohshlover11 ; hit my asks saying “add to taglist” if you want to be on my regular taglist for all billie content

[illusioninfnty]

"i'll do anything!" ↠ day 23 ; virginity loss

↠ bo sinclair x reader

fandom: house of wax word count: 2.8k warnings: nsfw 18+, bimbo!reader, reader has shitty friends, coercion, corruption, dubconish, fingering, blowjob, cum swallowing, dirty talk, kind of semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, pervy!Bo, allusion to murder, the plot is like a bad porno but i promise this is good guys

kinktober m.list || read on ao3

“God, did you forget to fill the tank again?”

You lean over from the backseat to take a look at the fuel gauge, and see the arrow is nearing empty. You furrow your eyebrows. “I was sure it filled up all the way,” you murmur. You try to recall when you all last stopped at a gas station, and how your friends delegated you to fill up the car while they went into the shop and bought snacks.

“Well it obviously didn’t, you idiot!” Your friend jerks the wheel and pulls over on the side of the desolate road. “This is why we never like to go anywhere with you.” 

You bite your lip, holding back tears. It wasn’t your fault that you were so forgetful sometimes, always getting distracted and lost in your thoughts.

This was supposed to be a fun road trip with your three closest friends, celebrating your college graduation nearing. But after a car karaoke session that went on for too long made you guys miss an exit, you’d been stranded on empty roads with nothing but trees surrounding you for quite a few miles now.

Your friend sitting in the backseat with you turns to face you, her arms crossed against her chest. “You should be the one to go find a gas station,” she protests. “It’s your fault we got stuck out here anyway.”

Your two friends in the front row look back at you and then at each other before nodding in agreement.

You crane your neck to look at the journey that would be ahead of you. It looked as though it continued to stretch for miles and miles with no end in sight, only the empty road and dying trees.

“By myself?” you ask hesitantly.

All three nod in unison.

You huff in defeat, unbuckling your seatbelt and stepping out of the vehicle.

“I’ll try to be back—”

They slam the door in your face before you can answer.

“—Soon,” you finish before sighing and starting the long walk, hoping to find some destination before it got too dark.

~

Bo was not expecting to see a pretty little thing like you around Ambrose when it was nearing dusk, especially all alone. You had your arms wrapped around your bare midsection, and even from his spot inside the gas station he could see that you were shivering from the cool air as the sun set. You were looking around frantically, and he could tell immediately that you were lost and looking for help.

He smirks. Oh, he’d help you, alright. Bo took that as his cue to reveal himself to you. He wipes his hands with a dirty rag and tosses it aside, exiting the station.

You hear the ringing of the bell as Bo opens the door, and you turn your head towards the source of the sound. You scurry on over, seeing Bo in his mechanic’s uniform.

“Sir! Hi!” you start, fumbling over your words. “You work here, right? Do you have some gas? My car—well, it’s my friend’s—but it’s, like, miles back there and we ran out.” 

Your eyes then shift to the side and he could tell you were embarrassed. “It’s kind of my fault.”

Hmm. Sir. He liked hearing that come from your pouty lips.

Bo gives you a toothy grin. “Don’t gotta worry your head ‘bout it, sweetheart. I’ll get ya all settled. Come with me.” He slides his hand across your lower back, just barely grazing your ass. You gasp under your breath at the feeling, and Bo can’t help it when his cock stirs at the sound.

As you walk into the gas station, Bo scans you up and down. He notices that you have nothing on your person but your clothes, and even then it’s just little scraps of a skimpy top and skirt—which means you must’ve forgotten a wallet, too. His grin widens even more.

Reaching behind him without you noticing, he cranks the thermostat down. The air gets cooler within seconds, and Bo revels in seeing your nipples harden as they poke through your top.

He goes to find a can of gas, rolling up his sleeves as he plucks it from a top shelf. He notices when you gulp and stare at his muscles as he flexes them subtly.

You were such a cute little doll. He was going to have fun with you.

He plops the can on the counter. You go to reach for it, but he holds a hand out. “Ten bucks, little lady.”

Your eyes bulge almost comically and it takes all of Bo’s strength not to laugh at your expression.

“Wow, that’s a lot more than I thought it would be,” you say nervously, shifting on the balls of your feet.

Bo exaggerates a sigh. “Times are tough out here, owning a small business like this. We don’t get many customers out here.” He opens his hands to motion to you the desolate town of Ambrose.

You completely buy into his bullshit excuse, nodding your head in complete understanding. “Oh my god, that sucks, like, a lot.” Patting down your lame excuse for a shirt, you look up at Bo with wide eyes, jaw dropped in surprise. “I forgot to bring my wallet!”

You were such a dumb little thing. What were your sorry excuses of friends thinking, sending you off all alone?

“I’m so sorry, sir!” You clasp your hands in front of you in a pleading manner, looking up at him with big, watery eyes. Bo holds back a groan. Jesus, those eyes could make a man cream his pants if he wasn’t too careful. “Please, is there anything I can do to pay you back? I’ll do anything!”

Bo pretends as if he’s thinking long and hard. Oh, he knew exactly what you were going to do as payment.

“You know, I get lonely sometimes,” Bo starts, a mock frown on his face. “A cute lady like you could really help a man like me out.” He shuffles up to you, and palms your ass under that sorry excuse for a skirt.

“Oh!” You gasp, grabbing onto his arm. “That’s really sad, sir.” You look lost in thought for a moment before continuing. “I don’t know if I can do that for you though.” You bite your lip, looking unsure of yourself.

“Aw, you gotta be kidding,” Bo clicks his tongue, rubbing his hand around the plumpness of your behind. “I bet you’ve helped lotsa guys out, huh?”

“A-actually,” you look down in shame. “I’m a—” you lower your voice to barely over a whisper, “—virgin.”

Bo blinks. That wasn’t a response he was expecting from you. So the slutty clothes were just for show, was it?

“Oh really?”

You nod, blatant regret all over your face. “I don’t think it’ll be good for you, ya’know, since I haven’t really had any practice and all that.”

He puts a smile back on, laughing gleefully and patting you on the shoulder, rubbing a thumb between the groove of your collarbone. “Well, that’s no problem for me, sweetheart. I can teach ya!”

Your eyes lighten up. “You can?”

“Sure I can!” He starts to undo his belt, throwing it aside on the counter. “Just need you to get on your knees for me and I can show you what to do.”

His cock jumps in anticipation, looking forward to seeing your juicy, plump lips wrapped around—

“Wait a minute!” you cry out, interrupting his fantasies.

Bo pauses in his movements, his jaw ticking at your interruption. “Yes?” he askes, concealing his frustration.

“What’s your name? I don’t wanna do this without knowing it.”

He sighs and points to the nametag on his jacket. “I’m Bo.”

You slap a palm across your forehead and nervously giggle. “Oh jeez, I should’ve known to look first!”

“That’s okay, sweetheart,” Bo mutters through his teeth impatiently. “Now lemme help you out, alright?” “Oh! Yeah, sorry!” You—finally—drop to your knees in front of him. “What do I need to do?”

The sight of you in front of him like that, so eager and pliant, had his cock jumping in his pants.

Bo lowers his jeans and boxers, his hard cock now revealed to you. He wraps a hand around the base stroking his full length as it puts it on display for you.

“That’s…big,” you murmur. You look up at him, concern plastered across your features. “I dunno if it’s gonna fit.” Your eyebrows crease together and those damn pouty lips of yours come out again.

Bo bites his cheek to conceal his smirk. This was gonna be a lot more fun than he thought. “I told you, that’s what I’m helping you with, ain’t I?”

You nod.

“Great. Now open those pretty lips up for me.”

You open your mouth as wide as you can, giving Bo a perfect hole to stick his cock into. He guides himself inside you, hissing as the warmth of your mouth envelops his length.

“Good girl,” he praises. He begins to thrust his hips slowly, your lips latching onto him as he does so. “You gotta let me move, sweetheart.”

“Sorry,” you mumble around him, and he groans at the vibrations that travel up his cock.

Your lips loosen and you start to suck on his cock, the suction of your lips making shivers of pleasure run down his spine. He grips the back of your head, controlling the pace of his thrusts.

“Fuck, look at you,” Bo hisses. You look so pretty and innocent with his cock stuffed down your throat, gags escaping your lips. “You’re a natural. Sure you haven’t done this before?”

“I told you—!”

Bo slaps your cheek, shushing you. “Stop talking.”

You nod obediently, the action making him pulse inside of your mouth. His grip on your hair tightens as his thrusts become harder, more primal. He fucks your mouth with vigor, ignoring your gags and the way your nails dig into the skin of his thighs.

He cums faster than he’s ever had before, groaning as his hot release coats the back of your throat. You cough around his cock, spurts of liquid splashing against your cheeks.

“Swallow it,” Bo commands.

You gulp harshly, your lips still secured around his cock. The extra pressure has him bucking his hips and like a good girl you swallow all of his cum. He pulls his cock out of your mouth, and you begin to cough and sputter as you regain your breath.

“Is that it?” you question him.

“Baby, I still gotta get rid of that virginity of yours.”

“Oh.” You giggle behind your hand. “Right.” You start to strip, only taking a couple of seconds since you’re practically naked already. “What do I do now?”

Bo’s cock hardens back to life at your nude form in front of him. Your nipples are hard, attached to your perky breasts that bounce up and down right in front of his eyes. He stares lecherously, licking his lips. “Now that you got my cock all wet,” Bo rubs his length, now slick with his cum and your saliva, “I can stick it in your pussy.” You bite the inside of your cheek and nod, your eyes flicking between his face and his cock. “I know I asked before,” you begin, and Bo moves to place your hand over his cock, “but will it really fit?”

Lord, he was really starting to understand why your friends let you go alone.

“Yeah, I told you, I’ll make it fit.” He lifts you from the back of your legs and places you on top of the counter. He brings his thick fingers to your pussy, sticking a fingertip inside.

You gasp and arch your body into him, throwing your arms around his broad back. Your bare breasts brush up against his chest and he relishes in the contact. 

“That feels really good, Bo!” you cry out. He adds a second finger inside of you, pushing the digits in deeper. He can feel how wet you are and the way you clench around him so desperately. Your hips jerk into him unsteadily, chasing the pleasure his fingers bring you.

He chuckles. “It’ll feel even better when I stick my cock in you.”

Bo removes his fingers, basking in the way you whine as he pulls them out, leaving you pulsing and desperate to be around him. He lines his throbbing cock with your entrance and pushes himself in without hesitation.

“Bo!” You scream, nails digging into his back. Little gasps leave your mouth as he begins to thrust in and out of you. Your pussy grips him like a vice, and it’s difficult for him to move inside you with you so needy for him.

He shushes you, gripping your cheeks and watching as tears leave your eyes.

“It hurts,” you whine to him. Your nails grip onto him as if your life depended on it.

He shoves his face into the crevice of your neck, placing kisses upon it. “Gotta relax a bit for me, okay?” he coos into your ear. “Or it won’t feel good for you.”

“You promise?” you ask through glassy eyes.

He nods, and feels as you unclench just a tad around him. Bo is able to rut himself into you harder now, and he can’t help but be more forceful with his thrusts as it causes your breasts to bounce right in front of him.

“Look at that.” He motions towards where the two of you are connected, his cock pulsing at the way your blood and juices coat the base. “Look at how we're connected now.”

Oh wow,” you gasp in awe. “That’s kinda romantic, huh?”

Bo doesn’t respond. If you wanted to put it that way, he wouldn’t stop you. He ignores the way his heart stutters in his chest.

His hips continue to pound into you, your body bouncing along with the power of his thrusts. The whines that come out of your mouth sound so angelic, and Bo has to fight the urge to kiss you.

“I—I think I’m gonna cum,” you moan out, your head thrown back and your eyes are scrunched up in pleasure.

Bo didn’t need you to tell him that. Your pussy goes back to clenching down on him, your walls tightening around his cock, fitting themselves to the shape of him. He curses quietly into your neck. He never wanted to leave the warmth of your pussy.

“That’s it, baby,” Bo coaxes you. He moves a finger to your clit, enjoying the way you jolt at the newfound sensation as he rubs circles on the bead. “Cum around my cock.”

“Cumming!” Your voice is squeaky as your legs come up to wrap around his backside, and you finally reach your peak. Your pussy tightens around Bo even more, and he can’t help it when he cums for a second time as you squeeze every last drop out of him.

You pant heavily as you come down from your orgasm, sweat rolling down your temples despite the cold air of the station that surrounds the two of you.

Bo’s own breathing is heavy, something he’s not used to much. You squirm out from beneath him as you drop from the counter, legs still shaking from the aftermath of your orgasm. You bend down to gather your scraps of clothing, and Bo has to take all of his strength to conceal his groan as he watches his cum slowly leak out of your pussy.

“Leaving so soon?” Bo didn’t know what compelled him to say that. You were just some cute college kid passing through that was a chance to get his dick wet. Yet there was something about you that drew him to you, like a moth to a flame.

You shimmy back into your clothing, and he notices how you ignore the trail of his cum that runs down your thigh. “My friends’ll be mad at me if I take too long getting back.” You pause in your movements. “I can take the gas now, right?”

Bo’s heart drops in his stomach. He realizes quickly that no, he wasn’t going to let you take the gas. In fact, he wasn’t going to let you leave at all. He wanted you—needed you—here with him. He couldn’t let a pretty little thing like you just pass by him like that.

He glances outside quickly. The sky's already turned to a pitch black hue, and he knows there’s no streetlights on your way back to where your friends wait for you. He turns back to you as you stand awaiting his answer.

“It’s pretty dark out there, little lady.” You peek over his shoulder, and your eyes widen as you realize just how late it had gotten. “It ain’t safe for you ta’ be out walkin’ all alone. Why don’t you stay over at my place for the night?”

“B-but what about my friends?” A pout overtakes your face and you look up at Bo with puzzled eyes.

Bo smirks, holding you close to his chest and running a hand over your hair. “Don’t need ta’ worry about them, sweetheart. My brother’ll come an’ fetch ‘em.”

[heartmaddie]

dusk 'til dawn ! tsukishima kei , akaashi keiji , azumane asahi , hinata shoyo , ushijima wakatoshi , kiyoomi sakusa incl ; post time-skip , fluff , fem! reader note ; thank u to garfield & the anon who requested this ! synopsis ; a small collection of domestic drabbles including the haikyuu! men

07:21 ! tsukishima kei

the flat was always unreasonably cold in the mornings.

she curled up under the thin linen sheets as she stirred awake, uncomfortable from the freezing gust of wind and rain which had just blown through their window. after she let out a groggy, tired sigh, yn looked to her right, gazing at the restful boy who had a peculiar serenity displayed on his face. a small content smile was found on her lips, he was utterly captivating.

she watched with a tender expression as kei stirred awake, he groaned quietly as he stretched out his tense muscles before rolling over to face her. the rain gently patted against their rooftop as y/n felt his warm arms pull her into his warm chest as he nuzzled his nose into the soft strands of her hair.

“morning..” he mumbled quietly, the exhaustion evident in his voice as he yawned, “what time is it?”

“seven something?” she hummed wearily in response, rubbing her face against his neck and soaking up as much warmth as she possibly could. “need to get ready for work soon..” 

he let out a quiet groan out of distaste, holding her even tighter as a silent protest.

“it’s cold, i don’t wanna get out of bed..” tsukishima was always a bit of a sulker in the morning, and yn couldn’t help but chuckle as she looked up at him with an affectionate gaze. “let’s just stay here for a little bit longer, mkay?” he murmured sleepily, pressing a chaste kiss against the skin of her temple.

“hm, fine..” she sighed dramatically, but was secretly overjoyed by his uncommon display of affection.

yn let him shift downwards to rest his golden locks against her chest, her fingers intertwining with each strand. her gaze followed him as his eyes started to shut once again, falling into the temptation of sleep in the comfort of her envelope.

9:53 ! akaashi keiji

“i can always cancel my meeting, i don’t want you to be alone when you’re unwell.” he hummed quietly, voice a blur to her ringing ears. keiji always had nurturing tendencies, but that was amplified to the max when she was sick. he brushed his rough fingertips over the skin of her forehead, moving any hair from her face.

“no, it’s okay,” she was so congested, it was evident on her tongue from every word she’d utter. “you should go to work,” her gaze was ever so soft as she admired his furrowed eyebrows and worried expression, her fingers rested on top of his hand, offering him a sliver of comfort, confirming that she’d be okay alone.

“are you sure?” his forehead creased and she let out a soft giggle as she brought her soft hand to rub the wrinkles away.

“you’ll look old if you keep on frowning like that..” she hummed, lips twisted upwards as she looked up at him.

“you just make me worry.” he huffed as he pressed a soft kiss to her supple cheek, “i’ll bring you home some medicine, make sure to rest up.” keiji rested his forehead against hers, potentially breathing in the bacteria of her illness, but he couldn’t bring himself to care.

keiji let out a soft sigh as he slid into the bed next to her. he rested his arms around her waist, bringing her into the warmth of his chest. 

“you’ll be late..” her droopy eyes and flushed nose was trained on him, he felt his heart patter a little bit faster as a small amount of blood rushed to his cheeks.

“they’ll live, i’m more concerned about you right now.” his fingers pulled her hair back into a ponytail, settling the loose strands on her shoulder, “i’ll leave once you’re asleep.” he whispered, bringing his lips to her cheek.

she nodded, smiling up at him before resting her eyes and curling against the pillow. akaashi couldn’t help but run his fingers up and down the expanse of her arm, an attempt to lull her to sleep before he carefully slipped out of bed and turned the lights off, offering her a soft kiss before leaving the house.

12:27 ! azumane asahi

days with him were always tender.

she brushed his hair carefully as he worked on some early sketches of potential collections. his thick fingers were dusted with graphite and blisters as they brushed over the paper below him. their apartment was strewn with loose drawings and photographs, it was an organised mess, but somehow still cozy.

“you’d look nice in this piece actually, i’ll size one for you later.” he muses, holding up the thin sheet of paper up for her to see.

“i like the square neckline, what fabric will you use?” she asked curiously, peering down at the paper through blue light glasses. her fingers ran through his velvet-like strands of hair.

“don’t know, silk maybe?” he glanced up at her, eyes impossibly soft as he smiled gently. “what do you think?”

“i’m not the designer here..” she mumbled jokingly, kissing the nape of his neck before slumping down on the couch next to him. “you shouldn’t slouch, why don’t you work at your desk instead of at the coffee table?”

“lighting’s better here.” his eyes were drawn to her, he couldn’t help but reach out for her hand and gently caress her soft fingers, so unlike his. “and besides, that room is miserable, i prefer staying out here with you.” he admitted, taking a sip from the steaming mug.

“clingy,” she leaned her head on his shoulder, watching as he sketched. his face was brightened by the sun shining down on him, and her heart swelled ever so softly as she gazed up at him. “i think i prefer the new conditioner i bought. my hair feels a bit more silky now.”

“yeah, it looks good.” he glances over at her, eyes still impossibly soft before he checked the time, “it’s almost 12:30, should we prepare lunch?”

she nodded in response, taking his hand as he pulled her off the couch and into his embrace, whispering a sweet nothing into her ear before they continued to their kitchen.

15:05 ! hinata shoyo

shoyo was always exhausted after practice, the last thing on his mind was his normal exuberant personality.

he had a serene smile on his face as she applied thick layers of aloe vera gel onto his skin. there was nothing that he enjoyed more than these tranquil, everyday moments with her. the sun would set a lot earlier during the winter, and he was grateful that he’d be able to utilise a couple more hours with her in their shared apartment during the off season.

“you should come watch my practices” he murmured, voice uncharacteristically soft as he brushed his fingers through his orange hair, “can you apply some to my back, it’s a bit itchy still..” he lifted up the back of his shirt, revealing his tan, muscular back.

“maybe next time, yeah?” her free hand ruffled through his messy hair, letting him melt into her arms. she leaned her head on his shoulder, inhaling his musk of seawater and sunshine. he leaned against the headboard of their bed with a groan, tense thighs and calves relaxing after an excruciating day.

he reached out and pulled her into his arms, pressing multiple kisses against her cheeks & neck, ignoring her relentless giggles. 

“stop sho- that tickles!” she smiled up at him with her eyes creased, and his heart warmed immensely.

“don’t wanna..” he nuzzled against her neck, letting a huff out as his body relaxed on top of hers. “let me practice something.” he’d beg her for this exact thing everyday without fail.

minutes later, the two of them were situated on the ground, hinata grasping onto three chunks of hair which he eagerly tried to braid with. she hummed gently as they conversed about their day, her head occasionally turning towards his and pressing soft, sweet kisses against his chapped lips, receiving flustered, almost awkward giggles in return.

18:55 ! ushijima wakatoshi

his favourite pastime was watching her get ready for bed.

he found it holistic, almost reverent how she’d change into matching pajamas or how on sundays she’d spend a half hour extra in their bathroom. it was so peculiar to him, he’d never seen something like this before.

but he particularly liked standing behind her, leaning against the wall of their bathroom as she meticulously went through each step of her skincare routine, applying miscellaneous gels and creams onto her face which he couldn’t even bear to fathom. she had a little collection of products which she’d use on the daily, ones he had spent a small fortune on, afterall, but they surely did work. there was a soft glow which radiated from her face after she’d finished her routine, a small aspect of her appearance he’d grown to not just love, but appreciate.

sometimes, if he was lucky that night, she’d even let him massage her exfoliating cleanser for her. he found that the grains felt relaxing on his fingertips, but he found the way she’d look up at him with closed eyes utterly endearing, he couldn’t help but let his heart melt and pulse faster then. 

wakatoshi was the epitome of care when it came to her, he wouldn’t dare ruin that half hour she’d set aside for herself every night. but occasionally he’d wrap his arms around her from behind, pressing gentle osculates against her nape as she’d apply her topical creams, he couldn’t help himself.

he’d let out a small smile every time, rubbing his thick fingers into her waist as he watched in awe, he was absolutely infatuated with her. & once she had washed her hands and untied her hair, he was the one to be gracefully pulling her towards the bed and tucking her under the sheets.

21:12 ! kiyoomi sakusa

kiyoomi hated coming home late, but he surely didn’t mind the sight of her wrapped up in their sheets.

the moon shone down on their apartment, the city still bustling as he carefully walked through, not wanting to make a noise. his back was unbearably tense, muscles screaming in agony as he opened the door to their bedroom, almost immediately soothed once he laid eyes upon his partner in a deep state of tranquil in the lonesome of their bed. his heart swelled.

once he’d stripped himself of his sweaty clothes and basked under the warm cascade of their shower, he pulled a black shirt over his head and found a pair of pajama pants to wear, ones which had been the ones to match hers, coincidentally. he brushed his teeth and washed his face, but his heart would beat ever so quicker whenever his eyes would land on her, he found her even more stunning under the moon’s blue light.

before sliding into the bed, he’d gently pressed soft kisses against the skin of her forehead, smiling to himself as he brushed every strand of stray hair away from her face. he was devout when it came to her, with methodical touches was he only able to bring her into his embrace - he was always cold, and she was the only thing able to warm him.

finally, his eyes could close, he was absolutely exhausted. his head nuzzled against her scalp, inhaling the scent of clean, honey fragranced hair. he could rest in this familiarity. with a groan, his arms tightened around her impossibly, but still careful as to not wake her up. sakusa melted into the mattress, letting out tired groans and occasional stirs as he found himself falling asleep.

it still surprised him how easily he could fall asleep now, compared to when he was younger and all alone. 

please like , reblog or follow if you enjoyed :p © heartmaddie all rights reserved. please do not repost my work

[dusketo]

me during sam’s nightmare of higgs & amelie: is this an allegory for penetration

[niki-phoria]

⋆｡°✩ YOU LOOK SO PRETTY / PRETTY LIKE THE SUN

sweet moments with fushiguro megumi, itadori yuuji, inumaki toge, okkotsu yuuta

notes: gn reader (no pronouns used), first jjk reaction post !! this was so hard to write ngl, header from pinterest, title from tom odell - black friday

FUSHIGURO MEGUMI is in love with you.

dusk is filled with golden rays and city lights. you walk side-by-side with megumi in a comfortable silence. these quiet moments with you had always been rare but cherished moments - a small amount of time when you both could finally breathe. 

years of fighting curses had taken its toll on you. with death always just one wrong move away, megumi had grown accustomed to cherishing the little moments with you: when you made him coffee in the morning before he woke up; when you waited at his bedside after he was injured in a fight; when you forcefully put some of your food on his plate after noticing that he wasn’t eating enough.

megumi had never grown up with a view of a real romantic relationship - all of his experience came from side plots in manga and being dragged into watching movies with yuuji - but he was smart enough to realize why his heart beat so fast around you. why he blushed so easily when your hand brushed against his. why he desperately wanted more.

megumi stops when you pause in your steps, stretching out your shoulders. a content sigh escapes you as you look out towards the shore. “the sunset is beautiful, isn’t it?” you say, your eyes trained on the hues of pink and blue filling the sky. 

megumi glances at the skyline, only taking in the sight momentarily before he turns back to you. all the beautiful things he’s heard about “golden hour” seem to come true. the sun peeks out from behind various buildings, illuminating your silhouette. you softly smile as you look up at the clouds above.

“yeah,” he smiles; his gaze remains trained on you. “beautiful.”

fushiguro megumi is in love with you. now, he just has to tell you.

ITADORI YUUJI is - surprisingly - not a bad cook. over his months at jujutsu high, he had become the unofficial chef in the dorms. so when you fell ill, it was no surprise when he took on the responsibility of nursing you back to health.

your body is little more than a mound of blankets when yuuji creeps into your room; a bowl of steaming soup in his hands. he moves with the utmost care as he makes his way across the room before setting the bowl down on your bedside table. despite your puffy eyes and red-tipped nose he smiles, reaching up to push a stray strand of hair away from your face.

you stir awake at his touch before slowly blinking up at him. “hi y/n,” yuuji whispers. “feeling any better?”

he receives a groan in response. “i feel like death,” you rasp out. 

yuuji reaches over, resting the back of his hand against your forehead. “you’re still really warm,” he mumbles. “i don’t think your fever has gone down at all.”

his cheeks flush slightly when you reach over, taking his hand into your own. your skin is overly warm and slightly clammy, but yuuji doesn’t mind. instead, he intertwines your hands together. 

“here,” he says, using his free hand to hold up a spoonful of the soup he made. “try it. maybe it’ll make you feel better.”

the metal spoon burns your tongue and the broth is a little too salty, but it soothes your throat all the same. “thank you,” you murmur. “it’s delicious.”

yuuji simply smiles brightly, holding out yet another spoonful for you. “of course.”

“do you know japanese sign language?”

INUMAKI TOGE stares at you with wide eyes, surprised by your sudden question. it shouldn’t have been all that surprising, but it was something no one had bothered to ask before. 

finally, after a short period of silence, he nods. “salmon.”

toge had grown accustomed to being left out. even while around the most supportive people, he often found himself struggling to be heard - both literally and metaphorically. after all, it was difficult to communicate with others through origini ingredients. 

that didn’t make it any less hurtful, though. 

you smile brightly, hesitantly signing along to your words as you speak. “i’ve been practicing a little. i wanted to surprise you.”

toge’s face flushes; his jacket does little to hide the way his blush spreads across his cheeks and up to the tips of his ears. your movements are a little sloppy and you’re clearly nervous, but he doesn’t comment on it. no one had ever put in this much effort to speak to him before. to not only listen, but understand what he means. 

“thank you,” he signs in return. he pauses for a second, hesitating slightly before he continues. “i love you.”

“i don’t think i know that one.” toge simply smiles, leaning in to pull you into a kiss. he’ll tell you what it means soon enough. but for now, his flushed cheeks and soft smile tell you everything he means to say.

the safest place in the world is within OKKOTSU YUUTA’S arms. you can’t remember when it became a routine for the two of you. he would return home and immediately seek you out; his fingers curl around your waist and tug you closer until your back reaches his chest. 

a soft sigh escapes his lips as he rests his chin against your shoulder. the pieces of your bodies fit together like a puzzle - from the way yuuta intertwines his fingers with your own to how seamlessly his arms wrap around you. 

messy strands of ink black hair brush against the side of your neck when yuuta nuzzles himself even closer against you. his breath ghosts against your shoulder as he leans down, pressing a few lazy kisses over the fabric of your shirt. “i missed you.”

“i missed you, too.” your fingertips trace along little cuts and deep bruises decorating yuuta’s hands. “do they hurt?”

he catches his bottom lip between his teeth. it feels trivial to be in pain over such minor injuries, but yuuta has never been the best liar. “only a little,” he murmurs.

you frown slightly, raising your intertwined hands up to your lips. the soft kisses you press against the fresh wounds leave him breathless. with a flushed face and a soft smile, yuuta presses a chaste kiss against your cheek in return. “thank you.”

taglist (open! send an ask/dm to be added): @sunoooism @vamxpi @sad-darksoul @kamote-kuneho

if you liked this fic, please consider leaving a like, comment, feedback, or rebloging !! and if you want to support me, check out my jjk masterlist <33

[duskiily]

- damaged goods

[sukunas-wife]

What about the idea that baby Yuuji overhears the screams in the bedroom and thinks Sukuna is hurting mommy?🥺Mommy's little protector. Or the baby asks why they need a collar on the bed, but the mother lies that it is for their future dog/cat. Sukuna is unhappy, but is forced to get a pet because Yuuji is too happy

Hehe pervert 🤭 I’m joking 🥹🤍 but I love the idea

This is the first time your little sweet heart Yuji wasn’t by your side. Today his heart was set on following Uraume around, he was set on following him convinced at times of the day he was just a ghost who would vanish into thin air. Uraume didn’t have a problem with letting his young master follow him as long as he didn’t have to slow down his own business.

You’d see them cross your path a few times that day, Yuji always waving his chubby hand at you with a bright smile before running off to catch up.

The first time Sukuna saw you that day was just before midday, you were out in the garden under the plum tree fingers grazing the fruits you craved. He strolled over scaring you when you felt two of his hands on your waist, the third reaching up with ease to pull down the golden plums you struggled to reach.

“Thank you,” you reached up to his face bringing him down to kiss his lips, he bit at your bottom lip before he pulled away looking at you amused, “Where’s my son?” You turned to face him, smiling as your eyes moved away from him, “OUR son wanted to assure Uraume is not a spirit. Yuji is set on following them around from dawn till dusk.”

You looked back up at Sukuna, he brought a hand up to each side of your waist, “Is that so?” You felt like prey when he pressed you back against the tree, his third arm pressed over head against the bark, his fourth hand came up grabbing a strand of your hair running it between his fingers. “Well, now that you don't have our little brat with you, what are you going to do?” He leaned down closer to your face, his scent filled your air accompanied by his low suggestive tone, “More importantly what are we going to do together.” All it took in that moment was for his lips to meet yours while he brought you closer to his body, holding you close and whispering filthy words against your lips.

It was four or five hours past midday, one or two hours before dinner. Uraume was still on the move with purpose in their step and their mind set on completing whatever tasks Sukuna had assigned them that morning.

One of those tasks was to bring fresh robes to Sukuna’s separate chambers. Which lead Uraume to enter though your shared chambers and they would’ve gladly ignored the sound of wooden frame of your bed creaking. Not have batted an eye at Lord Sukuna’s muffled grunts and your quiet cries. Uraume, the master of “I mind my own damn business but I DON'T HAVE TIME FOR THIS” went about business until they heard the small voice.

“Uwaume! Mommy’s crying! We need to help her!” Uraume quickly snapped around snatching up Yuji, “Don’t worry Young Yuji, your mother is perfectly-“ Both of them were cut off by the sound of wood cracking and a slam. Followed by Lord Sukuna’s voice reverberating clearly through the heavy wooden doors to your private chamber. The last thing was your weak voice saying Sukuna’s name. The string of curses and your name from his father had Yuji shoving his way out of Uraume’s hold and running to your doors.

Behind closed doors you almost peed yourself hearing the bangs on the door and Yuji’s screams. “MOMMY MOMMY ARE YOU OKAY!? DADDY IF YOUR HURT MOMMY IM IMA! IM GONNA…” the banging stopped, “LEMME GO LEEMMEEEE GGOOOOAAAGGGGHHHHHHH” you could almost see the way Yuji was kicking and squirming in Uraume’s hold.

Your heart was racing, and you took a deep breath, “Su,” you looked down at him where he was still laying on you. He looked up at you amused, “Your son just threatened me through a door for hurting you.” His chest rumbled as he let out a breathy laugh. You rolled your eyes, “OUR SON, just heard you trying to give him a sibling and your humoured that all that came from it was he was threatening you?” Your eyebrows raised with a slight smile, you were amused but still concerned for what your little Yuji heard.

Sukuna groaned rolling off your body to avoid crushing you entirely, your bed creaked and finished falling to the floor as the last two legs gave out. You tried not to laugh at Sukuna’s slightly widened eyes. “Your next bed will be one of those made of solid cedar. These raised beds are flimsy and break always.” Rolling over to his side you placed a hand on his chest, your head resting on his shoulder, “Or maybe, you shouldn't let your ego get so big and see if you can break every new bed you bring into my chambers?” Sukuna looked away, both arms on the side you were pressed up against holding you close, “I’ll think about it. Now come here, take that collar off before it taints your skin red.”

Almost an hour passed of Uraume holding Yuji like a sack of potatoes under his arm to keep him from running to your room. In that hour you briefly fell asleep under the graze of Sukuna’s hands. The red leather Sukuna had his name branded into was pulled off your neck and thrown onto your bed to be cleaned up later with your bed.

Waking up from your short rest you got up, Sukuna helping tie your Obi and managing to loosely tie your hair in a nice manner. Of course you couldn’t walk away from him without having your ass smacked. Your walking was cut short the moment you tried and couldn’t take more than a few steps and your own legs caving causing you to fall into your husband who was smirking down at you with lidded eyes. The puff in chest, pride in his lidded eyes, the smug “heh,” you almost missed made you side eye him. “You were the one who asked me,” he mimicked your voice poorly, “Please please fuck me Sukuna, give me everything.”

While he snickered he assisted in helping you sit in your shared chambers bed while poking and prodding at you and your sensitive bruising body.

Sukuna was chuckling to himself as he pulled the blanket over your lap, “I’ll call for Uraume or one of your little maids to bring you dinner. I’ll tell them you’ve fallen ill and it’s best to let you eat and rest.”

There you sat, watching your husband look back at you one last time with a faint smile before he left. You sat in the silence taking a breath, that was until you heard a familiar scream and the sound of little feet running in your direction, “OI BRAT! I JUST TOLD YOU YOUR MOTHERS ILL!” You laughed silently at Sukuna’s yelling, Yuji who let out a little grunt and shoved with all his weight against the wooden doors, “mmoommyy!!?!” He ran to your side of the bed doing everything to climb up, even pulling your blanket down so he could hold on and pull himself up. When he was finally on the bed he sat on your legs looking up at you with those big round eyes, “Are you okay?” His little hands came together, he was looking at you with so much concern it squeezed your heart making you wanted to kiss all over his face and fawn over him.

So you did, he laughed being pulled into your chest as you kissed all over his face and squeezing him in a tight hug that he did his best to hug you back. “Yes baby I’m alright, daddy and I were just having a discussion and you know your daddy.” Yuji laughed, eyes closing while he smiled big “hehe he breaks things.”

It wasn’t long before Sukuna walked in with one of your ladies, she was holding a tray with your dinner, Yuji bounced off your lap and onto the floor “Wanna go see what daddy broke.” You watched as he ran to your room, pushing past the door. Your lady in waiting helped you adjust yourself to be able to eat whatever was served. That was until you heard Yuji’s loud cheery voice “WERE GETTING A DOGGY!?”

You were confused as you looked at Sukuna and he seemed equally confused until you saw his eyes widen slightly before he went back to a neutral expression.

“Yuji, we are not getting a mutt.” You watched as he got closer to your door and you understood why he came to that idea, you looked down at your food feeling heat rise in your cheeks, “but it even had a name!” Yuji came running out of your room with the bright red collar in hand, an oval token hanging that said “Princess” . He had the biggest smile and was visibly excited.

Your lady in waiting was quick to dismiss herself as you waved her off, “We ARE getting a dog Yuji, come here.” You waved him over moving your tray off your lap, “Y/n- we’re not getting a- we are Ryomen.” You gave him a look and he gave you a look. You were both stuck in a stare off, the tension was there, “Ooouu that’s why daddy broke the bed, he can’t say no.” Sukuna looked taken aback, “I said no! And No is no!” He crossed his arms over his chest staring down at You and Yuji who sat in your lap holding the collar. Yuji looked up at you with a smile kicking his feet waiting to hear what you would say.

“Sukuna.” Your brows raised before you angled your head taking the collar from Yuji, “Why wouldn’t we get a DOG if we have a COLLAR.” you spoke through gritted teeth and he kept a hard stare on you, Yuji brought his little fists up to cover his smile, he was looking up at you with stars in his eyes, if anyone could bend his father like bamboo it was you.

Sukuna sighed and rolled his eyes, “FINE- but I'M choosing it, and NO ONE gets a say.” Yuji’s cheer of pure joy made him kick out his legs and throw out his arms. He was quick to hug you and kiss your chefs before running to his dad hugging his leg, “thank you daddy.” Sukuna couldn’t deny he had a soft spot in his soul for his son, especially when he placed a hand on Yuji’s head giving his head a rub. “Sure brat.”

A week had passed and you were outside with Yuji, he was using a stick like a sword attacking a tree making all sorts of sounds as if he were really fighting for his life.

“Oouuuuaaahhh” Yuji’s hands dropped to his sides when he saw his daddy emerge from the path.

“Mommy…” you were just as shocked. Here came Sukuna tether in hand. Until he got to both of you, “well?”

“Sukuna…” you looked at Yuji who looked excited, his eyes were wide and shining, his smile was big and his little fists were shaking in excitement as he stood there basically vibrating in excitement, “That’s not a dog..”

“IT'S A TIGER!!” You didn’t catch Yuji as he ran and hugged the tiger, your eye was twitching while he buried his face in the tiger's neck, his little arms not enough to encircle the beast.

“It’s better than a mutt,” you watched as he knelt, on arms resting on the tigers back, the other leaving firm pats on the tigers chest. Keeping the tether in his hand. “It’s tame also, she came from a palace where she was used to guard someone’s children, so she’ll take care of Yuji.”

You wanted to reject the idea just to hear Yuji’s little voice “I love you princess.” It squeezed your heart to see how cute he looked hugging her, she sat bringing one of her big paws over his shoulder like she was actually hugging him.

“I don’t think… I don't think it's good.- you hear that Yuji? I don’t think your mom wants us to keep her?” He looked at you while hugging Princess, his eyes started to tear up, dammit you never thought he’d use that against you, much less would it be that effective., “Please mommy?” He was looking up at you, and Sukuna was too, behind his son he had a sly smile, turning your plan against you, then there was princess, who looked up at you, purring while Yuji held on tighter, “Fine- but no Tigers on my bed, and maybe a new name… I don’t think the collar we have was meant for a fully grown… tiger..”

Yuji ran hugging you, “Daddy can get her a new collar and we can think of a new name like… like… lightning!” You snorted trying to not laugh, “Lightning is cute Yu, but I think she needs a better name.” He hummed, thinking while looking around, “What about lilies like the flower?” His little finger pointed past you, you turned to see the tiger lily he was pointing at, “It’s a pretty name if you like it.”

He walked over to Lily, his hands on her cheeks fluffing the tufts of fur, “What do you think lily?” The only response he got was Lily nuzzling his face with her nose, “I think she likes it.”

You looked at Sukuna and didn’t miss the smile on his face and the soft expression on his face. He loved his brat. You knew that he didn’t just find a tiger in some palace, he had to have already planned it to some extent.

Walking to his side you hugged his side, “I love you.” Doing your best with your free hand to pull him down, you kissed his cheek and he let out a “heh” sound. “So how long have you really had this planned?” You cocked a brow with a sure smile, “From the day of Yuji’s birth it was made known to me, one of those fools that live scared behind palace walls imported more than just a few.” You saw the smug look on his face and shook your head with a smile, “You are beyond belief.”

“LOOK” both of you turned to Yuji who had jumped on Lily trying to ride her, “Go lily go!” She only looked back at him and you looked away with a smile before Sukuna dropped the tether, “You heard the boy Lily.”

All you heard was Yuji’s scream when Lily started a decent pace run. Your mouth opened slightly, “su- he’ll be fine.” Was all Sukuna said cutting you off before wrapping both arms on his side around you. “Now, let’s talk about your punishment for defying me so openly in front of my son.” He took your jaw in one of his free hands, making you look up at him, those lidded eyes and sly smile made your nerves tingle, “Oh?”

Tag List: @sad-darksoul @satorisgirl @bontensbabygirl @lupita97lm @queen-luna-007 @venus-seeks @bofadeezs @sakuxxi @mercymccann @certainduckanchor @najiiix @bakugou-katsukis-wife @amitiel-truth @souyasplushie @mylovelessnightmare @ynjimenez @dolliira @princessluvz @furiousblacktiger @anyaswlrd @shytastemakerthing

Here’s my shop btw 🥺

[todoriin]

adore me, hold me and explore me | moze x afab!reader

18+ NSFW, MDNI or i will delete your account, vanilla ass sex, no established relationship, obsessive themes from moze, cunnilingus, p in v, porn no plot

Being Feixiao’s closest advisor means you get to experience various interesting interactions.

Since joining her ranks, you feel as though you’ve lived through countless lifetimes, consulting and strategising with her and Jiaoqiu against formidable foes and expansive armies. You’ve seen the Merlin’s Claw swing her blade and slash countless enemies in half, learnt medicinal techniques from Jiaoqiu that may cure simple illnesses, like the common cold. 

However, the most interesting soul, without a double, is a certain Shadow Guard of the Xianzhou Yaoqing, one you have the pleasure of working with most intimately. Figuratively and… literally.

There’s a creak coming from the windows of your bedroom, the hinges wincing softly as they’re pushed open gently but too wide to be an action of the wind. At this stage, you’re no longer surprised by the stealthiness of the intruder, after all, you had purposefully left the windows open, waiting for the moment an intruder who could coat himself with invisibility would show up. 

Besides, it’s nearing dusk, he promised he’d visit then. 

“Good evening, Moze,” you greet, back turned to him as you look in the mirror, swiping balm over your lips before puckering them. 

A breath of satisfaction leaves you when he finally materialises before you, purple haze clouding out around his silhouette, revealing the usual, skin-tight attire he opts for daily. It’s a shade you’ve grown to love now, seeing it everyday (and taking it off for him a few times a week).

“You look nice,” he comments, words curt but sweet. 

You omit to tell him that you didn’t doll up because you doubt he’ll live longer with that information. “Thank you,” is all you say, smiling up at his reflection. Then, a cold hand comes up to your neck, fingers resting over your pulse as he traces your skin, eventually snaking back to fix your hair.

“The lipstick you wore today also looked nice,” he mumbles, meeting your gaze with his piercing one. 

You turn around in your vanity stool, swinging your legs over to the other side of the seat as you look up at him. His hands move up slightly to cup your jaw, indiscernible eyes gently admiring your features as you look up at him. Here, in your home, he can unwind, a skilled assassin let in to a haven too safe for him and the blood on his hands.

That’s why you’re perfect for him, because you know how to slice a man’s neck and leave him begging for more.

“Did you like it, Moze?”

He’s silent as ever, opting to just play with the strands of your hair. There are moments when Moze is silent because he does not wish to speak, but there are always thoughts circulating in that head of his, you realised that a year into the job when he started providing a sarcastic retort whenever he could. This time he’s silent because he doesn’t know how to respond, rendered speechless as you blink up at him. 

It’s an honour to render a man like him speechless, but you still want to have your fun.

“So quiet, I’ll take it as a no?” You ask, rising from your chair and walking past him. An arm snakes itself around your waist before you could get too far, tugging you right back against the chest of the Shadow Guard. “Use your words, Moze.”

“There are no words worthy enough to describe your beauty.”

Your mouth drops slightly as a sudden shyness creeps up your expression, an uncontrollable smile that you can’t hide behind your hands tugging on your lips. “Smooth talker,” you retort, pushing his chest lightly, but he hardly budges. 

You’re used to being the one to initiate all the conversations, as well as ending them.

“The day must have been treacherous. I’ll make some refreshments for you.”

Just as you turn to go downstairs, he’s once again tugging you back against him. This time, he leads you to the edge of the bed where he sits down with you standing between his legs, now a head shorter than you. Your positions have switched, now it is you running your fingers along the hood he keeps on his head, looking down into his multi-coloured eyes.

“No need for any of those,” he denies, “I am well.”

“Are you sure? No tea, snacks?”

“I have no desire for any of those, only you.”

You look away from him, bashful from his flirtatious words that he says in that serious tone of his. Seriously, how can he say that with a straight face?

“Okay, fine. You can have me,” you mutter and a phantom of a smile appears on his expression, eyes glimmering when you finally give him the indication he’s been waiting for. The thin strap of your top is being dragged down your shoulder and you shudder when he hovers a ghost of a kiss over your pulse point, getting flustered when you then feel him smile against your skin. “Please don’t tease.”

“Since you asked so nicely,” in an instant, your chest is bared to him and his hands creep up to explore the expanse of your body, touch gentle but purposeful, as if he was sculpting your curves himself, careful not to ruin you with any rogue or unwelcome grazes. “I’ll reap what’s mine.”

Then, he yanks your shorts off and cups the back of your thighs. A yelp leaves your lips when he suddenly switches you around so that you are now sat on the edge of the bed, and he, awaiting on his knees before you with hungry eyes.

There’s no time to think because all of a sudden, his mouth is on you, infiltrating your most sensitive part and the whimper that leaves you cannot be held back. You don’t know when your leg got on his shoulder, but it grants him more access as his tongue licks up a slow, torturous swipe up your entrance. 

“Moze!” You exclaim, legs twitching as if trying to kick him away, but he immediately holds you down you, an arm wrapping around your thigh to keep you there. 

You’re his target after all, he won’t stop until he’s through with you.

“Be good and take it,” he says against you, pressing a kiss to your clit before sucking and you gulp at the sensation as filthy sounds fill the atmosphere. No matter how many close nights you’ve experienced together, you’ll never get sick of him, grip inhumanely tight to keep you still as you beg for mercy, but the feeling of his mouth is too sweet to push away. The apex of his tongue circles the nub as his spare hand crawls up, collecting the slick from your entrance before two fingers intrude, breaching your walls. 

When he curls them, you know you’re done for, falling against the mattress to try and deal with the onslaught of pleasure that Moze knows how to inflict. It keeps coming in waves and waves, and neither his fingers or tongue lets up. You didn’t even realise you were crying until you felt tears drop down your face and onto the sheets. 

He’s pumping into you, briefly curling and scissoring his fingers, and his ministrations on your clit go from suckling to tracing shapes with the bud; a cruel torture that eventually results in a buildup of tension in your lower abdomen. 

You warn him about your incoming orgasm with a shrill cry of his name and a babble of words that loosely resembles a sentence, and the only thing he says in response is:

“Let go, pretty.”

So you do, mind becoming cloudy, hazed with nothing but the feeling of pleasure. Moze has now swapped his mouth and fingers, tongue lapping up everything you give him, licking you clean whilst his thumb rubs your clit in circles, trying to prod more out of you; a routine choreographed for your demise.

“Perfect,” he murmurs against your core, letting you come down from the high as he presses a few kisses up your stomach. 

His hawkish eyes watches as your expression untwists itself, no longer contorted by overwhelming pleasure. He can’t help the way his gaze then drifts to your chest, how it rises and falls hurriedly, still trying to regain your breath after he stole it. 

Your reverie is interrupted when you feel his tongue licking your entrance once again, folds pulled back by his fingers to bare more of you, and your nerves flinch at the sensation of pleasure enhanced to the maximum. “Moze! Stop!”

He obeys, pulling away immediately, serious expression unchanged save for the little glimmer of disappointment in his eyes.

“Next time,” he gruffly promises. 

Wrapping both of your thighs around his waist, you’re maneuvred further up your mattress by the assassin, completely helpless in his grip as he moves you however he wants. You would not have wanted him to stop anyways. 

Nimble hands shed his clothes and you unabashedly admire the sight between your legs, eyes so brave to wander across a scarred body that none others will get to lay their eyes upon. You trace the curve of his defined torso, how the shadows and light dance along the crevices, enhancing his already-impressive muscles. You leisurely run your gaze further down, following his abs to his cock.

Red and leaking with precum. 

It was intimidating when you first came face-to-face with it, and whilst you’re still impressed by his size, he’s taken care of you through the process every time, walking you through the pain and adaptations whilst being completely patient with you.

You want to prepare and take care of him like he had with you, so without thinking, you reach out and begin stroking him exactly how he likes it and a grunt passes by his lips, composure faltering ever so slightly.

There is no other Moze would bare himself like this to and, as a sign of his own twisted desires, he wants you to think the same of him. He wants you in ways he cannot justify, especially the part of himself that drips with violent and obsessive tendencies.

Should he get too close, he fears he will devour you when neither of you are expecting it.

Although, recently it seems that Moze allows himself to indulge in pleasures that he hadn’t permitted before, and as his hand wraps around your wrist to stop your ministrations, he can’t help but smile at the small pout that graces your lips. Rubbing his erection along your cunt, your slick coats his underside whilst his hand leisurely travels around your torso. Your supple skin hasn’t seen the severities of the battlefield, hasn’t fought and handled the brutality of men and blades like he has; the distinction between the two of you almost makes him seem like a monster.

A monster who wants to hide you from the darkness in which he lives in. 

“What are you grinning at?” You ask from under him.

“Nothing,” he murmurs, lowering his face to yours to press delicate kisses on your skin and you shift impatiently, eyelashes fluttering and hands clenching into fists. 

He notices the subtle action, takes it as sign of desperation that he wants to devour and dissolve into his veins, as if keeping a part of you with him forever. Aligning his cockhead with your entrance, your moan is unrestrained when he finally breaches your walls.

Slowly, Moze bottoms out, hands holding your hips to press you flush against him as you squirm. He doesn’t mind the way you wriggle around trying to adjust to his thickness and length, he’ll patiently hover above you, pressing soothing kisses along your face whilst staying as still as a shadow.

Even as your walls twitch and clench, he doesn’t budge, refusing to move until you are ready for him to. In a way, being connected with you like this makes him feel closer to you, and it brings a sense of peace that he cannot find elsewhere.

You are the source of it, the centrepiece of all his desires and he cannot swallow you down anymore. 

“I’m okay now,” you whimper.

He reels his hips back, almost pulling out before slamming right back into you and you cry loudly. “You sure?”

“More, Moze, please don’t be cruel to me.”

Cruel? He wouldn’t dream of it.

Setting a bearable pace, the room is filled with a cacophony of moans and continuous ‘plap, plap, plap’s of skin meeting skin. You are still the centre of his vision, eyes hardly straying away from your expression and body, keenly watching every microreaction of yours. He notices the way you shut your eyes tighter when he angles a particular way, cock breaching the most sensitive but pleasurable parts of you. 

It’s insatiable, his appetite for you. The only thing he wants to do is bring you to endless highs, over, and over, and over again.

Gradually, his pace speeds up over time, violating your insides with the neverending push-and-pull. Every time his hips snap back to meet yours, cock buried to the hilt, you feel the strands of your sanity slipping away. All you can do is babble his name and whimpers of how good he feels, hands reaching blindly for any part of him that you can hold.

He dives right into your open touch, torso leaning down to now hover directly over yours and the added heat of his body temperature makes you feel even more lucid. His shoulders are so broad, the planes of his chest defined, and stomach so toned that it drives you insane with desire; added with his precise strokes and thick cock, you don’t ever want him to leave. You don’t ever want him to stop. 

“Moze-” his lips are pressed against yours, swallowing the moan of his name and every other small noise you make as his member relentlessly spears you. 

He kisses you again and again, never straying too far, but parting often to let you catch your breath. 

“Moze, I’m-” you cry out in between kisses, “I’m gonna-!”

“Me too,” he gruffly responds, “relax for me, you’re clenching too hard.”

His words have the opposite effect because next thing you know, you’re cumming again, spasming around his cock as his strokes try to lure more out of you, draining you for all you’re worth. When you’re done, all of your nerves are fried, limbs weak and unable to hold themselves up for long without any support, but Moze hasn’t come yet, so all you can do is take his desperate and hurried strokes as he catches up to the last bit of pleasure.

Then, he comes to a halt whilst hot ropes gush into your cunt as he twitches inside you. Suddenly, his teeth latch on to the juncture of your shoulder and your neck, biting hard enough to leave a mark. 

You catch your breath in unison, waiting for him to finish completely before moving again, and when the final load is emptied, he’s capturing your lips in a kiss again. It’s hot, and your muscles feel like jelly, but he’s still desperate for more of you despite being as humanly close as possible. 

So, only moments after both of you have descended from the peak, he begins moving again, gently shushing any of your protests with a light kiss that breaks down your already weak defences. 

The squelches and plaps this time are obscene as he slowly eases in and out of you, grinding weakly whenever your walls twitch around him, but none of it is enough to quell his desire.

And he won’t stop until he has his fill. 

© todoriin 2024, do not steal, translate, repost my fics and do not recommend my fics onto any other site

[daeniradraconis]

Every Freckle, Every Moment - Luke Hughes

Okay, this is pure short sugar, but I had to get it out. Just you and Luke at the Michigan lake house, the sun dipping low. He’s all warm skin and summer freckles, fingers on your thigh as you play with his curls. It’s soft, lazy, and so Luke. A little moment I couldn’t shake—so now it’s yours too. Enjoy the fluff! 💛

---

The off-season at the Michigan lake house was always your favorite time. The world felt still, peaceful—just the sound of the water lapping against the dock and the occasional laughter of Jack and Quinn outside. The sun was beginning to set, casting the sky in hues of deep orange and soft pink, the golden light filtering through the half-open window. But inside, wrapped in the warmth of Luke’s embrace, time felt even slower.

He was shirtless, his skin warm from the lingering summer heat, the freckles across his nose and cheeks more prominent than ever. You were curled into his side, swallowed by one of his t-shirts—way too big for you, but that was exactly why you loved it. It smelled like him, felt like him, and he always smiled when he saw you in it.

Luke let out a content sigh as you played with his curls, twisting soft strands around your fingers, occasionally tugging just to hear him hum in response. His head rested against your shoulder, his lips brushing against your collarbone as he breathed you in. His fingers traced slow, lazy patterns on your bare thigh, warm and featherlight, like he just needed to be touching you in some way.

“You’re obsessed with my hair,” he mumbled, voice rough with exhaustion from the long day, but sweet and teasing all the same.

You giggled, shifting slightly so your fingertips brushed over the bridge of his nose. “And your freckles,” you admitted, tone soft as you started counting them under your breath. “One, two, three, four… I swear you got more this summer.”

“That’s what happens when your brothers force you to stay on a boat for, like, three weeks straight,” he mumbled, leaning into your touch as your thumb brushed his cheek.

You smiled, cupping his face with both hands and squeezing gently, making his lips pout. “You’re so cute, Lu.”

A dramatic groan left him, but the way his fingers squeezed your thigh betrayed him. “Don’t do that,” he whined, though he made no effort to move away. If anything, he curled closer, arms wrapping securely around your waist, pulling you fully against him.

“You like it,” you whispered, nose brushing against his, your fingers tracing over his jaw, his lips, before settling on his cheek again.

He exhaled sharply, shaking his head, but the way his eyes softened gave him away. “I don’t,” he tried, voice weak with sleepiness, warmth, and the undeniable truth that he absolutely did.

You giggled, pressing a lingering kiss to his forehead. “You do.”

Luke groaned again, more for show than anything else, burying his face in the crook of your neck. “I hate you.”

“No, you don’t,” you teased, running your fingers through his curls again, playing with them like he was the most precious thing in the world. And to you, he was.

“Fine,” he huffed, voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t.”

You smiled against his lips as he kissed you, slow and deep, his fingers squeezing your thigh before tracing gentle circles against your skin again. The season had been long, brutal at times, but here, in the quiet of the lake house, tangled up in each other as the golden light faded into dusk, none of that mattered.

There was only you and Luke, wrapped up in each other, exactly where you were meant to be.