#for tickling and also going in the kitchen

[nicksolemnlyswears]

JUST TEASIN’

summary: you call joel an old man…amongst other names

pairing: joel miller x reader

word count: 4.4k [i need to learn how to keep things concise]

warnings: 18+, cursing, spanking, p in v, fingering, oral (male receiving), age gap? totally legal though, joel's in his early 40s and reader is in her early 30s, joel is an ass guy which is strange cause i always make my men boob guys, idk i guess this is pretty tame

a/n: as a joke i tend to call pedro and joel peepaw cause he’s older and a total dilf but i love these men so fucking much. i'll be the first to get on my knees

thought i’d make a sweet oneshot about how they’d react to you calling them old. it’s a mix of fluff and smut. a little something for everyone!

also don’t judge me, this is my first time writing for joel 🥺

there’s a little nudge to another favorite fictional men of mine

i want to thank @yxtkiwiyxt for providing me with all the pedro pascal pictures and gifs and movie trailers and for ranting with me all day every day about how amazing this human is… if anyone is to blame about this oneshot it’s her ❤️

It’s one of those lazy Sunday mornings where everyone sleeps in, leaving the Miller household at complete ease. There are no responsibilities to tend to and nowhere to go.

You’re the only one awake, singing quietly under your breath and flipping pancakes until they’re nice and golden. Joel will come seeking you out soon, missing the warmth of your body and Sarah will follow when Joel cracks her door open to let the sweet smell of batter waft into her room.

No matter how hard you try you’re always the first one up. Sometimes you stay in bed with your husband, tracing figures on his bare skin until he pulls you into him and kisses your head good morning, raspy voice begging you for five more minutes.

But most of the time you decide on getting up and having an early start to your day, which includes making breakfast and sorting through your work emails.

The puppy Sarah adopted a couple weeks ago, sits on your feet, licking your legs as if begging for the fluffy sweetness of the pancakes. He had a taste of it when batter dripped on the floor, he licked it up before you had the chance of cleaning it.

Lost in your little world, singing to the tune of Lana del Rey you fail to notice your husband coming down the stairs. Joel leans against the kitchen island admiring you in your distracted state. The loose brown curls in a disarray at the top of his head.

His eyes scan you from head to toe, noting your messy hair pulled up to a half ponytail half bun thing he can’t begin to explain. Down they go to the cropped tshirt with his company’s logo on the back. The frayed edges are the byproduct of your use of kitchen scissors to crop it yourself.

Joel bites his lip as he ogles at your ass and thick thighs framed by the tiniest cotton shorts he’s ever seen. They fail to cover the bottom of your butt cheeks, exposing a sliver of the indigo panties and the crease where thighs meet butt.

Unable to stay away, Joel wraps his warm arms around your waist as he presses a kiss to your temple. He squeezes you to him, bodies pressed flushed to reveal the stiffness in his pajama pants.

The puppy wags his tail in the presence of his favorite human, standing on two legs to call his attention. The man didn’t want him in the first place but was out voted by the females in the household.

“Morning,” Joel murmurs, placing kisses all over your cheeks and down your neck until he finally presses a warm kiss on your shoulder where he rests his chin to look over at the stovetop.

“Morning old man,” you say with a giggle as his scruffy beard tickles your skin. Your lips press against his in a quick kiss, muffling his sigh of disappointment.

“Don’t start, sweetheart,” he warns. His lips brushing against your ear. Joel’s hands find themselves under your tshirt, his thumbs ghosting over your underboob. At the same time the fingertips of his other hand teasingly dip on the waistband of your shorts.

“Or what?” You say with a bite to your lip, flipping over the last batch of pancakes. Couple more seconds and they would’ve burned—that’s how much he distracts you.

“It’s too early for this!” Sarah’s high pitched voice yells. “Not in the kitchen and not in front of the baby, please!”

The puppy scrambles over to Sarah, jumping into her arms. He recognizes she’s the one who will cave and give him scraps of food.

Joel, startled, takes his hands off of you, facing Sarah with an apologetic smile, not that she sees it as she covers her eyes with a hand. “Are you decent? Can I look now? I’m really hungry if you don’t mind.”

You laugh loudly, shaking your head at Sarah’s dramatics. She takes after Joel and is well on her way to beat him at his own game.

“We’re not doin’ anythin’,” Joel mumbles, sitting on one of the kitchen island stools and petting the pups fluffy head, and the ear that flipped over cutely.

“Not yet,” you whisper to him as you place his stack of pancakes in front of him.

“I heard that!” Sarah yells, covering her ears this time. Joel laughs, nudging her shoulder and telling her to pass the syrup.

You lean across from them, grabbing a sliced strawberry to plop into your mouth. Sarah takes over the conversation as you and Joel share a glance. This is far from over.

Later on the day you head outside with a tray of lemonade and pie in your hands. You’ve gotta take care of your dear husband before the Texas heat gets the best of him.

You nudge Joel’s leg with your foot. He’s under the beat up truck, fixing some odd part. He has the means to replace the old thing but he likes to remind you that ‘Betsy,’ as he’s named his truck, is a part of the family and will never be replaced.

“Thanks, darlin,‘“ he drawls, wiping his dirty hands on a random rag he found on the bed of the truck.

Joel takes a second too long to get up from the floor. You see the hesitance in his eyes as he tries to think the best way to stand without hurting or pulling a muscle.

This is your chance. “Need help there, grandpa?” You pipe up, resting the tray on the portable table scattered with tools.

Joel openly glares at you while you smile broadly at him. It’s not often you make fun of his age, or rather, the age gap between the two of you. It’s only when you’re feeling a particular sort of way.

The age gap between the two of you isn’t the craziest but it’s large enough for people to notice. Joel is easily through the first half of his fourth decade, while you are barely entering your third.

“Watch your mouth,” Joel warns you, standing up quickly despite the cracking of his knees and the ache on his lower back.

Your eyes spark when he grabs the glass of cool lemonade and begins chugging it. The drops of sweat sliding down his neck and into the damp collar of his shirt stealing your attention and any innocent thought you’ve might’ve had about him. They weren’t many to begin with.

You clench your thighs together as you imagine licking that same trail, tasting his salty skin. Say what you want but you love a man that works with his hands and gets all dirty and grimy.

Joel catches onto the glazed look covering your eyes and grasps your chin between his thumb and pointer finger. His body gravitating towards yours as if nature demanded it.

You’re overly conscious of the motor oil covering his hands if not you would’ve sucked his thumb into your mouth, reminding him just exactly you can do with your tongue.

“What’s in that pretty lil head of yours, darlin’?”

Him. It’s all about him. He’s always interrupting whatever sane thought you have. Scenarios of you being bent over the hood of the truck as he sinks his aching length from behind. You riding him in the front seat as you’ve done on more than one occasion, fogging up the windows. The time he was knuckles deep inside of you, teasing fingers drenched during his lunch break.

“How good gray looks on you,” you reply, diverting the conversation somewhere else entirely. A delicate fingers wraps around the charming curl that constantly falls over his forehead, twirling it around.

Joel doesn’t take kindly to your comment, rolling his eyes and clicking his jaw as he lets go of you to return to the truck. Your hand which had been playing with his curl drops to your side as you cock your hip to assess him.

He’s much too aware of the age gap, it makes him insecure. Like you’ll one day realize you’re with an old man and leave him for someone younger.

Except in your eyes he’s the most perfect man alive. The grey streaks of hair that mix with the typical brown of his curls give him an air of authority, making him look dashing in all ways. A silver fox. Strong muscles from working manual labor most of his life are now covered with a healthy layer of fat but remain strong nonetheless. Warm brown eyes that sweep you off your feet every morning as soon as they open.

That man is aging like fine wine and he doesn’t begin to realize it. You feel extremely lucky to be the only one to enjoy it…squeaky joints and all.

Joel is experienced and mature and loyal. He simply wants to have a nice life with his family. A family you’re now a part of. It’s all a woman could ask for.

“You know I love you,” you tell him, wrapping your arms around him as he leans over the hood.

“Love to torture me,” he scoffs, taking hold of one of your hands affectionately. He can never stay mad at you.

“I don’t know what you mean? I brought you lemonade and even that apple pie you love so much,” you feign innocence, pressing a kiss to the middle of his back.

Facing you with a sigh, he lets his heavy hands fall on your hips, “What’re you playing at?”

“Me? Nothing,” you say with a wicked smile, “I’m gonna go with Sarah to the mall to get her homecoming dress. Will you be alright here with Ghost?”

He’s quickly distracted by the words Sarah and Homecoming. His babygirl is growing too fast, starting High School and going on dances with boys. She hasn’t told him yet if she’s been invited by someone and he hopes it stays that way.

There’s no way he’s letting her go with a date and you can’t convince him other wise. If she wants a date she can take the puppy she adopted, Ghost. Joel is determined to teach the ball of fur how to defend his daughter.

“Here,” he says, pulling out his wallet to hand you his credit card.

“No, it’s my treat!” You say, pushing his hand away.

“Take it,” Joel insists, trying to slip it into the tight pair of jeans you’re wearing. Fuck. How didn’t he notice until now.

It should be illegal to wear jeans that make you look THAT good. The blue material hugs your thighs tightly and lifts your perky ass to heaven—not that you other wise need it.

He doesn’t hold back and slides his palms on your back pockets, giving you a firm squeeze. You stumble, falling onto him with a weak protest.

“‘M so fucking lucky you’re my woman,” he groans, taking another feel. Temporarily forgetting the conversation at hand, yet another comment directed at his age snaps Joel back to reality.

“Honey, I know I married an older man but it wasn’t for your money,” you tease again, patting his cheek and removing his hands from your pockets—credit card and all.

A sharp slap to your ass, startles you, eliciting a cheeky giggle. All this teasing and you’re leaving him home alone with the mutt.

You don’t apologize, you’ll never apologize for teasing him. Unless it’s in the right circumstances…in his bed.

Towards the end of the night you finish pushing him to the edge of no return. Remember, opportunities are always around when you’re determined.

“Dad, can you sign this for school?” Sarah comes into the living room where you and Joel are watching a movie. Ghost’s head is plopped on his lap, where Joel had been ‘forced’ to pet him.

“What’s this for?” Joel tries to read the paper but has to keep it at arms reach to be able to read it. Failing, he searches for his glasses until Sarah points at his head where they’ve been resting for half the night, nestled between his curls.

You stifle a laugh as you think of what to say. “Sorry Sarah, good old peepaw needs his glasses to read.”

It’s clear you’re pushing it far as Joel freezes only to glare at you. If looks could kill you’d be six feet underground. Sarah laughs until her belly hurts, repeating the word peepaw between breaths.

“You two are bullies,” Joel shakes his head in disbelief, signing the permit and handing it to Sarah who is wiping her tears away.

“I’m heading to bed, goodnight old man,” Sarah tells a pouting Joel, kissing his cheek and running up the stairs. “Come on, Ghost. Bedtime!”

“Peepaw? Really?” Joel raises his eyebrows at you when both Sarah and Ghost are gone.

You shrug feigning innocence, hiding your smile with the edge of the blanket. ”Yeah, peepaw. It’s cute.”

“It ain’t cute,” Joel kisses his teeth before turning off the TV and standing from the couch, leaving you behind.

“Where are you going?” You call after him.

“To bed,” he dryly responds, shutting off the lights and climbing the stairs. He only leaves the lamp by the couch on. How considerate of him.

“What? Joel it’s barely 10!” Hiding your satisfaction is difficult. Joel’s ticked off, a day of calling him old will do that. It’s exactly what you hoped for.

“Guess that’s what old men do, darlin,’” Joel says sarcastically half way up the stairs.

With a hand over your mouth, you follow him, “Honey, come on. Don’t be angry, it’s harmless teasing. Are you really heading to bed?”

Joel turns at the top of the stairs, glaring down at you, “You really think I’m an old man?”

“Technically speaking you are an older man,” you quip, scrunching your nose cutely.

“You know that’s not what I mean.” Joel crosses his arms, reprimanding you for your cheekiness.

“I dunno why you get like this, you should know I love my older men,” you say sultrily, although it falls on deaf ears as Joel retreats to the bedroom.

When you step into the bedroom you’re instantly pressed against the door, slamming it shut. Joel’s sneaky hands lock it. “You’re playing a dangerous game, darlin.’ Don’t make me bend you over my knee and give you a spanking.”

The thought alone makes you shudder in delight. Wetness instantly seeping into your underwear. You’ve finally succeeded. You have him right where you want him.

With your hands braced on his chest you deliver the final blow. “You sure your knees can take it?”

Disbelief flashes in Joel’s eyes, “That’s it!”

Grabbing your arms Joel leads you to the bed where he sits on the edge. He roughly pull down on your jeans, panties and all, leaving them pooled on your knees, limiting your mobility.

With another tug he lays you face down on his lap, holding your wrists behind you in a tight grip. Joel shakes his head at your upturned ass that’s waiting a little too eagerly for his touch.

Delight bubbles out of you and Joel is determined to take you down a notch or two. Let’s see how you handle this after fucking with him all damn day.

The first swat comes without warning, eliciting a gasp from you. It’s sharp and borderline painful. A red handprint magically appearing on your left butt cheek.

Joel massages and paws at the skin, getting ready to deliver another one. “Cat got your tongue?” He questions at your sudden silence.

You try to look over your shoulder and say, “Is that all you got?”

A sarcastic chuckle leaves Joel’s mouth. Then, three fast slaps are delivered, successfully earning him a whine from your pretty lips. He rubs on the sweltering flesh, easing some of the sting.

Finding their way to your thighs his fingers dig between them to cup your pussy. It’s no surprise that it’s warm, messy and slick. Clear strands extending from it to the inside of your thighs and covering his digits.

You’re a fucking vixen who loves to torture him for your own fucking pleasure and he’s the damn fool who falls for it each and every time.

“Touch me,” you huff, wiggling on his lap to grind on his hand, hoping to gain more contact with his coated digits.

“Touch you? Oh, darlin’ you’re not getting off the hook so easily,” Joel mentions darkly, retrieving his hand and landing yet another smack to your ass, making it ripple from the impact.

“Ow!” You flinch yet remain in the same position, expecting more. You fucking love when Joel gets rough with you. It’s a shame you have to gauge it out of him like this.

“Wasn’t this what you wanted? Hm?” Joel’s asks and when he doesn’t get a response his hand flies down once more. “What was it you called me?”

There’s a beat of silence before his hand strikes, this time aiming towards the middle. “Gra-grandpa,” you stutter at the small burst of pleasure.

“Mhm, what else darlin’?” He prompts again. His middle finger tracing the slit of your pussy, feeling you grow impossibly wetter. His pretty little wife is always so reactive to his touch.

“Old man.”

The stinging in your skin grows warmer, no doubt turning a considerable shade of cherry red. Yet the ache in your cunt obscures it all. The scraps of attention only makes your arousal worse.

“I think there was one more,” Joel hums, urging you on. His slick finger teasing your weeping entrance.

“P-peepaw,” you gasp when Joel pushes it in until his knuckle meets your delicate skin.

“That’s right, peepaw,” Joel repeats absentmindedly, pushing his middle finger in and out. Listening intently to the squishing sound your pussy makes.

He’ll have you calling him something else by the end of the night.

Tight walls grip his finger like a vice, refusing to let go. Soft puffs of air tumble out of your mouth and he knows your eyes are closed as you concentrate on the minimal pleasure he’s providing you with. It’ll never be enough to make you cum but it’ll keep you bothered.

“Get up,” Joel orders with a softer smack to your bottom, wiping his slick covered finger on your skin. He helps you up from the restrained position he kept you in and makes work of taking off your clothes.

Joel pulls and tugs on your shirt roughly, throwing it mindlessly across the room. He palms your tits briefly, pinching one of your nipples to make you whine his name. With cracking knees he kneels on the floor to help you out your jeans and underwear, kneading your thighs with his big strong hands.

He catches a glance of your reddening skin and feels a prickle of pride at the mark he left. Most of it will fade by morning but you’ll feel it nonetheless.

Sitting back on the edge of the bed he wordlessly motions you to get on your knees. A wicked smile spreads on your cheeks as you do as you’re told, kneeling between his spread legs.

Eager hands grasp his belt, undoing the worn leather to get to the button of his jeans. He provides no help, leaning back on his hands and simply watching you with hooded and expecting eyes.

You pull down on his jeans and underwear, revealing the happy trail that comes down his navel to the patch of brown at his pelvis.

His hard cock springs free once you’ve worked his pants down enough. A throaty groan coming from above you at the release of tension.

“Mmm,” you hum, grasping his length in your fist. His eyes meet yours when you look up to press a kiss to the tip, your hand pulling the thin skin back to reveal it.

“Stop with the teasin,’” Joel growls audibly, chastising you.

You rolls your eyes obnoxiosuly, “You’re no fun, g-“

A hand flies to your hair, gripping the roots tightly. Your eyes fly open, starting up at Joel. “You sure you want to finish that sentence, babygirl?”

“Maybe not,” you shrug with a pout, your hand mindlessly pumping his length.

“That’s what I thought.” Joel keeps his grip on your hair, pulling it back to see every detail of you taking his cock into your pretty mouth.

Your tongue goes flat against the underside of his shaft, tracing the vein that runs along his length and letting saliva drip all down and into your fisted hand. Joel watches intently as your lips wrap around the angry red tip of his cock.

You start off slow taking more of his length with each bob of your head. Your eyes never leaves his face, observing every small reaction he makes. The sharp intake of breath when your tongue grazes his tip, the furrowing of his eyebrows, the bobbing of his adam’s apple as he fails to keep his moans in.

The sudden jerk of Joel’s hips causes your eyes to water and screw shut. The initial intrusion of his cockhead unexpected yet welcome. Joel throws his head back, “That’s a fucking good girl.”

Those magic words make everything worth it as you messily continue to suck and lick every inch of his cock. Neither the tears in the corner of your eyes nor the saliva dripping down his length stop you from tasting him.

You swear you’re dripping on the floor as your pussy flutters at his pleased words. You could touch yourself but all your energy and attention goes to pleasing the man above you.

The pain of kneeling hard wood floor for an extended period of time doesn’t bother you and the ache on your jaw is barely noticeable because all your concentration is on Joel and making him feel good.

Joel continues to set the pace, his grip tight on your scalp. “Fuck, just like that,” he moans when you tease the crown of his cock expertly.

“Alright, that’s enough,” Joel’s voice lilts in a reprimanding voice.

A string of saliva connects you to the tip of him as your hand continuing to work on the rest of his length.

Joel takes note of your red rimmed eyes and flushed nose as well as in your swollen lips and moussed hair. The picture of you completely filthy and sexy.

Joel cups the back of your neck, bringing you up to his height. He brings you into a sloppy kiss consisting of teeth and tongue and saliva. Joel loves that can taste himself in your mouth. A job well done.

You straddle his lap so his cock grazes your dripping pussy, tugging needily at his tshirt. “Take it off,” you beg. Your lips separate for a brief second as the shirt comes off before they smash back together.

He complies but quickly reminds himself that this all started because you were calling him old. He can’t be quick to reward you.

You foolishly believe that’s it and you get to have him. Eagerly you try to sink into his cock but he holds you still, not letting you take him to the hilt.

“Who’s the tease now?” You pant against his lips, stealing another long kiss before whispering in his ear begging him to take you, to use you.

“I like to see you begging for it.” That’s Joel’s response as he pushes you off of him.

You protest but fall silent when he removes his remaining clothes. God you’re like a teenager desperate to fuck with clothes and all.

It drives Joel nuts the way you look at him with lust filled eyes. You bite your lip as you take him in all his glory, hands reaching to touch his chest.

He pulls you back to him, his cock wedged between the two of you. The saliva covering it, sticking to your skin. He cups your face, “You have something to say?”

“Nope.”

Joel to cos his head in disappointment, pushing you into bed and maneuvering you till your head is buried in the pillows and your ass is high in the air. It’s tinged a dozen shades of pink and red from his hands.

You wiggle your hips offering yourself to him. Air hits your pussy, giving you an idea of how aroused you are. That’s what happens whenever you have the pleasure of going down in Joel.

Joel grips himself, spreading his pre before pumping his hand. Smack. His hand flies down to strike your ass once more. Your back arches when Joel teases your entrance with the tip. He runs it up and down your slit, wetting it with your slick. He lightly pushes into you so only the tip is inside before he pulls out again.

“Please fuck me,” you plead breathlessly, attempting to rock back to get more of him inside you.

Joel laughs. “Now you’re nice and polite. Is there something else you want to tell me?” He asks expecting an apology.

“No,” you repeat stubbornly.

He’ll get you soon enough. There’s no way you’ll resist.

Joel’s cock brushes against your clit, making you jump and moan. He does it again and again. Your pussy clenches desperately wanting him inside of you.

“You sure? You don’t want to apologize?” He gives you another chance. Sinking his cock deeper into you to give you a taste before he pulls out.

You huff and pout but you can’t take it anymore. You need him. “I’m sorry!”

“Now, was that so hard,” Joel grunts, pushing his length all the way in, rewarding you.

You bury your head into the pillow, stifling the guttural moan that rips from your throat. You could die like this suffocated and blissfully impaled on Joel’s cock and be happy.

With a tight grip on your waist Joel fucks into you at his own pace, watching how easily you accept him, covering him with your essence. It feels fucking fantastic.

His skin slaps against yours rhythmically. You swear you can cum at that moment but Joel knows all your tells and he slows his pace, pushing into you only when the tip remains. Long, slow strokes keeping you from cumming.

“I wanna cum,” you cry out frustrated but he ignores you, edging you.

“If you want to cum tonight you have to stop calling me old,” Joel grits. This is torture for him as much as it is for you.

“I said I’m sorry,” you sob into the pillow, your back arching as you try and take matters into your own hands. Smack, another spank, warning you to stop.

“Will you stop calling me grandpa?”

You have the audacity to fucking hesitate. He’s serious about not letting you cum but he’s confident he’ll get you to cave in.

Joel pulls out his cock when you refuse to answer. He instantly misses the warmth and tightness of your walls. His cock is soaked with your slick, a creamy white substance covering him from root to tip.

Licking his middle and ring fingers he replaces his cock, feeling your walls clench around them. He pumps them angling them downward to reach that spot inside of you, his other hand pressing on your lower back so you arch more.

“Oh fuck,” you gasp when this thumb presses on your bud. An orgasm quickly building. “Please Joel.” You wanted to cum around his cock not his fingers but at this point you’ll take anything you can get. Your mind is completely clouded and years for release.

“Did you reconsider what you wanted to call me?” Joel curves his fingers, quickening the pace.

“Yes,” you whine as your hips grind against his hand.

“And what’s that?” His fingers are sticky, your essence dripping down his hand.

“Please, daddy,” you cry abashedly, hiding your reddening face in the pillows.

“I didn’t hear ya’ darlin’. How about you look at me when you speak?” Joel dares to say while his fingers continue to drive into you.

Fuck, your legs are shaking and the knot continues to tighten in your belly. You have to say it or Joel will stop. You turn your head to meet his eyes, “Please, daddy.”

“That’s more like it,” Joel’s raspy voice says, removing his fingers when you’re at the cusp once more.

You audibly groan in frustration but it’s interrupted when Joel eases his cock back into you Fucking you just as you want it, hard and fast.

The bed sheets are fisted in your hands as you hold on. Your nipples brushing against the bed with each thrust. It doesn’t take long at all for you both to titer over the edge. Your pussy squeezing tightly around him, milking him for all he’s worth.

When Joel pulls out you fall to lie on your stomach, catching your breath. He lies beside you doing the same. Sharing a glance you both start laughing.

“Next time you want it rough just tell me,” Joel shakes his head at you. He knew all along and yet it still pissed him off.

“It’s not the same, honey,” you sigh, kissing his shoulder. The nearest part of him you can reach without moving too much.

The following morning you wake up with a kink in your back and Joel being the ever loving husband brings you painkillers to bed where you’re lying still, “Take these grandma. They’ll make you feel better.”

He won’t ever call you ‘grandma’ again. The daggers you sent him were fucking terrifying.

listen...typically i'm not the biggest fan of the daddy kink...but when it works, it works

[xiao-come-home]

Thinking about post-story Jiaoqiu trying to find himself in the new situation.. and getting even more clingier 🤧

warning: spoilers for jaoqiu's story if you havent played the new quest. possible ooc jiaoqiu?

Word count: 1k+

a/n: its been a while from writing and even tho im not disabled in any way, i hope its alright bc im kinda nervous to post this. i just think hed be a lovely pain in the butt to get more love </3

The new reality has been a true challenge for Jiaoqiu - trying to navigate through the house was already a tedious task, let alone cooking, but he wasn't going to give up so easily. While yes, he did miss doing things by himself - which, once in a while brought dark clouds over his head - the foxian managed to find enjoyment through doing tasks together, with your help.

It's quite known that Jiaoqiu isn't afraid of craving affection from you anywhere and anytime - especially now, considering he's limited in what he's able to do safely without hurting himself. Now that you're welcome in the kitchen to assist him, the pink-haired foxian can't help, but pull you flush against him while you carefully guide his hands to cut vegetables in even slices.

The healer slowly trails the tip of his nose down your hair until he recognizes the familiar shape of your neck - Jiaoqiu nuzzles happily into you, ever so slightly tickling you and giving you goosebumps; he smiles against your skin when you let out a comically fake, tired sigh, only fueling him to continue pestering you further.

He purposely takes his chin off the top of your head and searches for your ears so he's able to whisper, but when you decide to playfully confront him, Jiaoqiu only plays dumb and tilts his head to the side, asking you a seemingly innocent question, "Hmm? What do you mean, love? I'm not doing anything, the kitchen is not a playground, remember?"

There's a chance you'd probably believe him if you two were mere coworkers - but his twitching ears always give away his attempts to lie to you.

Jiaoqiu is clingy. Absolutely no news to anybody. That's when you finally get done with cooking, it's time for the cunning foxian to get a break; he stretches his arms to you, waiting until you put his hands on your cheeks. He cups them gently, rubbing the soft flesh with his thumb, and softly moves it to find your lips - his mind paints a picture of your figure, the shape and every crease his fingers feel; he smiles at you yet again, with a glimmer of mischief.

He wants to kiss you.

He also knows he will most likely miss your lips more or less.

But instead of feeling hopeless, he uses it to his advantage.

Jiaoqiu begins to pepper your face in kisses until he feels you try to get away from him and hears your angelic giggles; he kisses your left eyebrow - oh no, that's definitely not the place he's aiming for! He moves more to the right and kisses the bridge of your nose - oh no, not yet! The softness of his lips meets the apple of your cheek - oh, that's closer, but still not the goal he has in his mind...

After a while of Jiaoqiu purposely changing directions (and probably missing some anyway, but it's not like he complains about it, since he can kiss you more this way), with a little help of yours, he places a kiss on the corner of your lips, barely giving you time to breathe and finally, finally reaching his awaited destination, pressing his lips on yours; he gives you a few quick kisses if he feels like he still misses the exact place to change the angle, melting into a puddle with butterflies in his stomach.

Is it hard sometimes? Yes. The heavy weight travels straight to his heart, leaving him clenching his fists; the foxian hates the helplessness that hurts twice as much, much worse than the wounds Hoolay has inflicted.

Nowadays, his ears pick up your step way better, even letting him guess correctly what jar of herbs you're opening from the mere sound. He uses his tail as some sort of object detector - but he only waves his fan innocently when it makes you yelp in surprise, as Jiaoqiu runs the tip down your spine all the way down.

"Ah, I wonder what that was?" Jiaoqiu wonders, the fluffy ears twitching and the pink tail swishing behind him, "Is something wrong, beloved? Did you mess up the measurements? No worries, we'll fix it right away."

Well, if you decide to leave the house for supplies, you now have to hold his hand all the time. Just to be sure, he also wraps his tail around you, so he knows you're by his side and he doesn't bump into anybody. Hey, he's just thinking about the civilians around him! As a doctor, there's nothing else that matters more than keeping them safe and healthy... Right?

Even though he's been braiding his hair for years and could probably do it by himself again - being only a tiny bit off on one side, he cuddles up to you in the morning and presses kisses onto your neck, silently asking you to help him once you get out of bed - you certainly can't miss his hair getting all up in your face... and therefore, what he's asking for.

Does he feel a liiiitle desperate? Mmm, a bit.

Does he feel like he's feeding the helplessness in the back of his mind? Sometimes.

But it's worth to look for happy moments regardless of the situation - and you being perfectly aware he's doing it solely to get even more of your attention - makes him feel a little better with it.

Though, he knows when to stop and give you space; he doesn't want to actually become your burden, even if he lost his sight, he's still trying his best to stay as independent as possible in terms of daily tasks as possible.

If you're tired, Jiaoqiu waits until you hand him the brush and he's the one combing your hair; if you're too sleepy in the morning, he's the one helping you put on your clothes with verbal help, even if it takes a bit more time than usual. Along with you, he organizes medicines so neatly, it takes a blink of an eye for him to bring a full tray of medicines when you happen to catch a cold.

Does he miss being able to see? More than he'd admit.

But the more he thinks, the pink-haired foxian always comes to the same conclusion - it'll probably be harder to unlearn the clinginess once his eyesight comes back...

But for now, maybe it's alright to indulge a little more?

[crazyunsexycool]

Bucky getting Handsy with Sugar - Sugar you're so pretty 😏

Lottie who came back from school out of nowhere - Yes daddy mama is so pretty 😍

The amount of times Lottie has Cockblocked Bucky and Sugar is unimaginable 😂😭

😂😂😂😂 She’s the reason she doesn’t have a baby sissy…

Getting Blocked…

Warnings: implied smut. mentioned edging/orgasm denial

Bucky had been on a mission for three weeks and to say he missed you was an understatement. Of course he missed his family but he was dying to see you, feel you and just have his way with you as many times as possible.

Bucky rushes out of the meeting room after the debrief and heads home. He hears you moving around in the kitchen and he quickly makes his way to you. You don’t even get a chance to say hello before he’s pulling you in and his lips crash into yours. Bucky only pulls away to leave a trail of kissing down your neck after leaving you breathless.

“I missed you too.” You mumble as you tilt your head to the side so that he can have better access.

“I missed you so much, sugar.” He mutters against your skin. His hands roam your figure and relishing how your curves fit perfectly against him. “I need you right now.”

You giggle as the scruff of his beard tickle your sensitive skin.

“You are so beautiful.”

“She’s the pwettiest mama ever.” Lottie says innocently as she moves around the kitchen island. Her eyes light up at seeing her dad after three weeks and her smile is radiant.

But as happy as Bucky is to see her he’s also frustrated. You can’t help but laugh at conflicting look on his face so you help him out by stepping around him and picking Lottie up. It gives him a minute or two to cool down.

“Hi doll, I missed you soooooo much.” He says once he has the situation under control.

"I missed you daddy." Lottie says while peppering kisses all over his face.

"Now, what are you doing home in the middle of the week, shouldn't you be at school?"

"They let the kids out early today." You say while biting back a smile.

"Of course they did." Bucky grumbles.

"Why don't you go shower and change and we can hang out later."

"Yeah, I'll do that." Bucky nods as he sets Lottie on her feet. He grumbles all the way up the stairs.

****

Bucky had just taken off his shirt in the bathroom when the door opened and closed quickly. You gave him a sly smile as your wrapped your arms around his neck and pulled him down for a kiss.

“So what was this whole ‘I need you right now’ thing you were saying?” You mumble against his lips.

“Don’t tease me, Sugar.”

You smirk as your hands travel over Bucky’s chest and down his abs to his pants. His breath hitches as you undo the button and zipper. He can’t contain himself as he starts to get hard under your touch. But just as you’re about to get on your knees for him there’s a small knock on the bathroom door.

“Mama?” Lottie calls out. There’s a strain in her voice that lets you know something is wrong. “I dwopped my juice.”

Bucky throws his head back and groans as you pull away from him.

“I’ll be right out sweet Angel.”

“Mama, my dwess is Sticky. I don’t wike it.”

“Go to your bathroom and I’ll be right there.” You say and wait for the little ‘Kay’ she gives.

“I’ll make it up to you, I promise.” You give him a quick kiss before leaving him alone in the bathroom.

****

Bucky had never been more excited for bedtime than at this moment. Once the kids were in bed he’d have you all to himself. He was more than happy to read an extra story if it meant the kids would be completely asleep and he could have uninterrupted time with you.

You’re already in bed waiting for Bucky when he walks in and locks the door. His eyes darken as he takes in your figure on the bed. Bucky doesn’t waste his time walking over to you.

“Where were we before we were so rudely interrupted?” You murmur as Bucky settles over you.

His lips are on yours in a flash. You both pour all your love into the kiss. Bucky’s hands travel up and down your body before his lips do the same. You sigh happily at finally having him close again after 3 weeks. Unfortunately for both of you there’s another knock at the door.

Bucky almost growls as he rests his forehead against your midsection. He’s so close to what he needs the most but he can’t have it, he can’t have you right now.

“Friday, unlock the door.” Bucky grumbles as he moves to his side of the bed.

Lottie’s sleepy form stands in the doorway, pink teddy bear in hand.

“What’s wrong doll?” Bucky asks as Lottie makes her way over to his side.

“Can habe seepover? I missed you daddy.”

Man’s Bucky’s heart melts at the sleepy confession. And who is he to deny his doll anything? Bucky looks over to you to find that you were trying not to laugh as he pulled Lottie up and sat her down between you too.

“Can I sleep here too?” Henry’s question made you yelp since you hadn’t seen him come in. He giggles sleepily as he starts climbing over you without waiting for an answer.

So Bucky’s first night back is spent with the three of you cuddled up in bed. He can’t be completely disappointed though, just a little frustrated.

~~~~~~~~~~

The next day Bucky woke up to an empty bed. He knew you would have taken the kids to school to let him sleep in more. So he went about his morning as usual. Bucky had some coffee, did some exercise and worked on a few reports in his office. At around 11 am he gets a text from you to come home so he finishes up and heads back.

"Sugar? Is everything alright?" Bucky calls out as he walks in.

"Everything's good."

Bucky walks further into your shared home only to stop in his tracks when he finds you at the bottom of the stairs waiting for him. You were wearing nothing but a robe, hair and make up done. His eyes went straight to your red painted lips.

"Are you going somewhere?"

"Nope. We are staying right here. Steve asked if he could pick up the kids from school and have a sleepover and who was I to deny that request?" You smirk. "Isn't that so nice of him?"

Bucky nods dumbly in response. His body already reacting to the implication that you'll have the rest of the day to yourselves. He's been dying to get his hands on you and showed you just how much he's missed you. But of course it couldn't be that easy. He takes one step towards you and feels like he's being held back, specifically by his left are. Bucky looks at the offending appendage in confusion before he looks back at you.

"Easy there tiger. I spent all morning getting ready for you and you're planning to throw me over your shoulder like a cave man?"

You were the one holding him back. Bucky's eyes darken as he stares you down. His jaw goes slack as you take off the robe and show off the lingerie you were wearing just for him. You looked divine but Bucky wanted to wipe off that little smug smirk you had.

"Sugar, if you don't let me go right now, I won't let you come."

Just like that you let him go. Bucky didn't waste any more time, he marched towards you and did exactly what you said and threw you over his shoulder. You couldn't help but laugh as he practically ran up the stairs and threw you on the bed.

Bucky sighed in relief as he took off his shirt and looked down at you. "Finally, just you and me."

You sit up and help Bucky get rid of his pants. As he begins to kiss you the doorbell rings and he groans.

"You have got to be kidding me. I'm going to murder whoever is on the other side of the door." Bucky says as he starts to get up.

He only stops when you start laughing. Bucky's eyes narrow in suspicion the longer and harder you laugh.

"Was that you?" He asks.

"I'm sorry. I had to do it. You should've seen your face." You start laughing again.

"Oh Sugar, you really shouldn't have done that." The tone in his voice has you stop. He wraps his fingers around your ankle and pulls you towards him. "Now you're really gonna get it."

"I hope so."

Bucky smirks. He takes his time with you. Maybe he even brings you right to the edge of bliss but stops before you're able to orgasm. You pout and tell him it's not fair. But he doesn't budge. Bucky keeps his promise and doesn't let you come, only a few times though.

After he's made his point he shows you just how much he missed you those three weeks. And most importantly, there are no little cockblockers around to stop him.

[ilovepapahet]

James Hetfield HeadCanons

Im doing hc’s on my favourite eras of James (they are going to come up a lot in story’s and fanfics) Im starting off with 1986 or MOP I hope you like them

————————————————————————

SFW

He’s so silly

He loves to tease you when ever he gets the chance he can be mean too but in a good way

he’ll teach you how to play guitar (but I feel like he’d do it whatever the era) you’d be sitting on his lap as he’ll place his fingers on the frets and you’d follow suit

he loves kissing you all over showing you how much he really loves you

he’ll take you to band practices too he loves showing you off because he thinks he’s the luckiest man alive to be dating you

If your laying down on your bed or couch on your stomach he’s lay his head on your ass and tell you about his day

sometimes he’ll tickle you to just to hear you laugh because he thinks you have the sweetest laugh ever (he’ll tell you that every time you laugh)

if you go out to a bar or just out in general he’s a fuckin guard dog and will never leave your side making sure no ones bugging you or flirting with you

he’ll take pictures of you when you least expect it and there the most foul photos ever and he’ll tell you your adorable (the photos are horrible)

he has his hands on you at all times cuddling the fuck out of you

he loves to cook with you (or at least try his best) but you also wouldn’t consider him cooking it’s just him following you around the kitchen

sometimes when your in your room working he’ll just walk in stand there for a few seconds making you very confused before he farts and walks out and you’d yell at him (he thinks it’s so funny)

NSFW

he can’t stay serious at all sure there are times when he’s being all loving and passionate but half of the time he’s making you laugh while being balls deep inside you

he’d say something stupid and it make you laugh

but when he is being loving he’s the sweetest praising you and literally worshiping you

I feel like he’s more soft in the 80s than in the 90s like he can definitely be rough but not as rough

he’ll play with your tits taking one into his mouth as he slowly thrust into you

he’ll leave hickeys on your tits and thighs where no one can see them and he’s so proud of himself because he’s marking you as his and he lets you know all the time

I feel like he loves and I mean LOVES to eat pussy out in this era (as well as two others I will mention later on) he’d ether eat you out like a mad man or lazily lick and kiss your pussy

He just loves to be in between your legs

Same with you giving him head he’d let out sounds only your ears have the grace of hearing (you don’t complain at all) he’d buck his hips up into your mouth when he’s close and praise you when you swallow all his cum

and to be honest he’s not that great at after care (he’s still learning don’t worry) he’d flop down on the bed wrap his arms around you and call it a night

————————————————————————

I hope you guys liked this one, there are still 8 more to come

[flowerwiththemachinegun]

Sorry I like my men toxic and nobody can convince me that Tseng would give you a fully healthy relationship. He’s just not the worst guy you could date. So here are some of Tseng’s toxic habits. I wish we could post powerpoint slides. Like I guess NSFW for my choice of words. Edit: Okay I’ve typed more. It’s NSFW, it wasn’t that when it was just scattered notes i swear. granted, this is still scattered notes

Forgiveness?

Tseng. The man you forgive a million times because someone like him is so hard to come by. Even if you’re a person who doesn’t tolerate bullshit. You know that it would be impossible to find anyone nearly as good as him despite his mistakes. Tseng knows this too, taking advantage of your level of comfort in him. The connection between the two of you so deep there wasn’t a possibility you could view life without him. Tseng creates soul bonds with his significant other, he has to have all of you fully invested in him. You would also want for absolutely nothing, he can provide everything you could ever want so you can focus on the future you want to build for yourself. Whether it’s school, art, creating your own business, etc. Tseng is there to guarantee everything goes according to plan if it’s financially or if he has to pull a few strings. Seeks out people who would be reluctant to replace him but aren’t very co-dependent. If you manage to leave Tseng, say good riddance to developing any new relationships. He’s either going to make any of your new significant others vanish. If it’s someone he can’t kill, he’ll find a way to scare them away from you or find a way to put them in prison. 

My alternative reasoning as to why all of your other relationships would fail? The dick of course. Yes. The unbelievable wee wee. There’s not a soul in the world that would be able to learn your body the way he does. Have you ever heard of people being nearly ready to pass away because they lost their dick? Well if you haven’t, you have now. Even thinking of him fucking someone else the way he does with you is enough to make you want to vomit. That shit will have you sliding down the wall crying. You can try all you like to fuck someone else, it won’t compare. The way he touches you immediately sends electricity down your spine. It’s all in the way he knows how to touch you. Where to touch you. A subtle brush of his fingers along the small of your back while you’re riding him. An almost tickling sensation that causes you to press yourself against him as he leans up to kiss the most sensitive parts of your neck. How about when all he needs to do is look into your eyes and knows exactly how you want to be fucked? You can’t think of a time you had to ask him to do anything, your minds were seemingly in perfect sync. Always so so willing to please you. “So you wanna fuck other people huh?” He whispers in your ear mockingly while driving his cock deeper into you. Your knees pressed against your chest, legs hooked in Tseng’s arms as he ensures you won’t slip out of your position. No, you really don’t, not when he’s reminding you of what you’ll be missing. You’ll be calling him the next day for more, innocently asking for him to come over to “talk”. There won’t be much talking, just Tseng bending you over the kitchen table. His hands gripping your hips tightly as he fucks himself into you so deeply, ignoring the way your hands push against his abdomen in a half-hearted attempt to slow his tempo down. 

There aren’t many people in this world that would be nearly as attentive as he is. The way he can easily tell all of your needs within moments of talking to you. Reads you like a book and it can’t help but make your heart flip, cause like, ‘who sent this man?’ and why does he know all of your emotional needs and exactly how to take care of them? Tseng carries aspects of his job along with his relationships. The same way he gets to know his enemies closely, he’ll do the same to you. Memorizes all of your sayings, even can predict what your response would be to most questions or statements. It’s almost more eerie than heart warming. With this comes the ability to manipulate you endlessly. Gaslighting has never been easier honestly. Lying to you about anything or forcing you to agree with his point of view would be child’s play. The way he carries himself during an argument, so well composed, rarely letting his emotions control him paired with the way he effectively strings his words together to soothe you. His calmness will make you question why you’re even so worked up. Tseng isn’t, so why are you? Tseng makes you see everything through rose colored lenses, and despite your aching heart when he hurts you, Tseng could never be wrong in your eyes. He only does what’s best for you. 

Gaslighting? Probably.

Truly remembers every word you’ve said to him and will use it against you. This goes back into my last little paragraph but deeper? Uses traumatic things from your past so you can believe that maybe your emotions, in regards to something Tseng has done wrong, are nothing more than misguided reactions. Will have you think that maybe you’re projecting your fears from past experiences onto him when you challenge him or try to hold him accountable for any wrongdoings. Certainly will guilt trip you knowing exactly what makes you feel like you’re the biggest piece of shit in the world. He doesn’t have to do anything outrageous. It’s the way Tseng subtly changes his body language. Slumping his shoulders just a bit, the way his brow furrows at your words or actions, breaking eye contact and staring at the floor like a scolded child. To put the cherry on top, it’s the ever so slight change in his tone of voice. The wavering in his tone as he speaks softly, not too soft for it to sound out of the ordinary, but enough for you to believe you’ve hurt his feelings. Usually resulting in you coddling him, now you’re the one apologizing because you “never meant to make him feel bad” even if it’s because you were grilling him for something as major as fucking his boss behind your back. Believing that it must be your fault if he’s off sleeping with others. Master manipulator for sure. He’s good at lying, like we see what he does for a living.

Like to make you cry because he's the only one that can also make you better. At times he’ll do this just to make sure he’s got complete control over you still. Wrapping his arms around you in such a calming way, his warmth and sweet words coaxing you to relax against him so he could “make it all better again.” More makeup sex. Somehow gets a kick out of cheering you back up. One minute you were sobbing because his words were a little too cruel and now you’re sobbing because he won’t stop fucking you so good. Tseng has a way he likes to position you in times like this. Having you lay on your stomach, your back arched just enough for his hips to flush against your ass as he completely sheaths himself in you, whispering in your ear asking “you still love me, right?” Christ, he has a way of making himself emotionally needy at just the right times. You can’t help but whimper, whine, and eventually choke out, through your moans, your appreciation, love, and devotion to him. Always ends with him cuming in you, some aftercare, then holding you in his arms for a majority of the night unless work calls him away.

Sometimes-y af?

He can pick and choose when he wants to pick up your relationship or not but you cannot do the same to him. Loves someone who he can come and go as he pleases with. You're so stupid and willing. Loyal to a fault, though the only person it’s negatively affecting is you. There isn’t a time you’ve turned him away thus far. Constantly taking him into your arms, babying him as though he’s some angel despite you knowing he isn’t. Tseng’s just managed to get you to the point you couldn't care less about his deceptive ways. You just want him by your side, no matter what the circumstances may be. The entire world can see the invisible leash and collar Tseng has put on you, yet you manage to stay blind to it all. You’ll wait like the good little puppy he’s molded you into. 

It’s a wonder he can be such a gentleman and a conniving son of a bitch. The kind to end an argument by demanding to be left alone but will ask “what you're doing tonight” a few hours later---he's going to fuck you—giving you a reason to keep accepting him back into your loving arms. He knows you’re a gift from the Goddess but he can’t help that he likes being toxic at times. It’s why he treats you so well and the sex is so unbelievably good. He needs to cement himself into your soul so he can continuously get away with everything, so things can continue to go exactly as he wants it to. Tseng prefers a life with you that has no consequences. For him. You, however, have to deal with punishment if you dare treat him in a similar manner to his treatment of you. Will show his displeasure with hurtful words and by neglecting you. If that doesn’t have the desired effects he’s willing to scare you into submission. Once again, nothing too outrageous that he would do. Tseng might just choke you a bit, push you against a wall, or if you try to run he’ll hold you against him tightly. Whispering into your ear about making you disappear if he can’t have you the way he wants you. Telling you how he does so much for you and he at the very least deserves you on your best behavior at all times or else he might just have to break that pretty neck of yours. Isn’t too big on yelling, he can get his point across just fine without having to do so.

Stalker? Obviously.

Tseng has trackers in your cars, phone, and bags. It doesn’t matter where you go, he’s going to find you. He’s definitely followed you from location to location, making sure you were doing what you said you would be. Sure he’s always been able to track you, but that isn’t the same as seeing you. You could be doing anything in the areas you claimed to be in. Tseng is even familiar with the faces of employees of each store you frequent. Has tracked down every family member and friend of yours, performing thorough background checks on all of them. Even closely looking after some of the people closest to you. Tseng has to approve of the people you hang around of course, he won’t tolerate anything that he feels is a negative influence and will force them out of your life. Tseng will sit outside of your house for hours after leaving, wondering if someone will come over. If he knows someone is coming over he’s got your home mic’d. Listening to all of your conversations, evading your most private conversations. Hates to hear when you vent about him, makes it hard to come back to you and act nice when in reality he wants to correct you for telling his business to your friends and family. Doesn’t mind when you’re speaking highly of him though, you help boost his ego most of the time. Getting space from Tseng is impossible. Your attempts to drive around and find a nice parking spot are all for nothing. He’s following right behind you. Is definitely going to block you in with his own car, angrily getting out of his own. Once he made you leave your car where it was entirely. Pissed that you would try to get away from him at all, it doesn’t matter if it’s just for a few hours. Pushing you into the passenger seat of his car, driving you back home all while yelling about how stupid you were and that you would always come back begging for him. 

He was always right about that. Nothing would stop you from wanting Tseng back if he finally decided he was done. A relationship with Tseng is either on his terms or very much a “till death do us part” 

[cowardlycowboys]

local baby understands the word no but thinks it doesn't apply to her

[lovelyghst]

soft-tummy simon riley save me… cause you cannot look at that man and tell me he doesn’t love to eat!! like, a constant snacker. and his heart absolutely swells when you indulge so heavily in his needs.

it’s practically his love language, to scarf down anything you put on the table in front of him, and you can certainly tell since now he’s not nearly in the same shape as he was when you found him.

he likes to think you’ve fixed him in a way; spending his evenings cuddling in bed for hours on end with you, rather than heading to the gym for the second time that day to burn off dinner. thanking you for the savory meal with kisses all over instead of fighting off the impulse to purge his usual bland chicken breast and vegetables every night.

and it all hits him far, far deeper than just his gut; feeling it in his heart more than the soft layer of fat blanketing his tummy he has to see in the mirror every morning. just the fact that a sweet thing like you wants to take care of him, ensure he eats plentiful yet still healthy for his work, has him whipped. showering him with endless i love you’s and praising him all up and down until his cheeks tint a light, flustered pink and his dick gets achingly hard in his pants.

he won’t pretend the change was easy on him, seeing the clean-cut abs and fit appearance that made him feel young fade away the further you got into your relationship, but he’d also be a filthy liar if he said he didn’t prefer the pros to his current build way more.

simon begins wearing shirts less around the house on his lazy days, at your lovely request of course, and it does feel quite freeing. especially when he’s able to come up behind you in the kitchen, cage you in with his burly arms, bend you over the counter and fuck you senseless because part of the deal was that his shirts would go to you, and with nothing but your lace panties on underneath.

he can’t help but get riled up seeing you walk around like that, and you’re no saint either when you catch a glimpse of his broad chest and relaxed, pillowy belly as he reads the morning newspaper. you tend to drop to your knees and tug at his boxers faster than he can even greet you properly, showing him just how much you love him.

he loves eating you out more than anything, especially with a full tummy after a late meal. you’ll take his and your empty plates to the kitchen to clean up, but you’re being bent over the counter before you can even wipe it down!! and squealing his name in surprise won’t stop him, nor will your giggles as he’s lifting the skirt of your dress to reveal your pretty ass, getting down on his knees and delving right in.

dragging his tongue through your drenched seam, grinning softly against your skin when you jolt and whine out of sensitivity. tongue-fucking your pretty, tight hole only for a moment before he’s returning to messily play with your swollen clit.

and you just know it’s entirely selfish, simon not even paying mind to the way your legs shake and relentlessly convulse and you can barely stay still because his stubble is unceasingly tickling your inner thighs. making you cum until you can’t anymore, and he’s happily forced to carry your numbed, twitchy body to bed so you can catch your breath and rest while he finishes up the chores.

would probably send you off by say something cliché about you being his favorite dessert. he’s so stupid when he’s horny.

simon is weak for when you ride his stomach, with both his hands planted firmly on your hips as you rub your bare pussy back and forth on his hard abdomen. his hidden muscles become more apparent the longer you go at it and the harder he holds you down, little whimpers spilling from your puffy lips as the light hairs coating his tummy create just the perfect amount of friction to your poor, little clit for that hot, familiar sensation in your lower belly to bubble up.

your hands clawing at his chest and shoulders, leaving lines and crescent indents in his skin that soon turn red in their wake, and the pain only turns him on more, his cock excruciatingly hard, long hums of pleasure omitting straight from his throat as he grits his teeth.

“yeah, that’s it, sweetheart—there’s my dirty girl. jus’ keep goin’ for me now, don’t stop… make yourself cum without me touchin’ you down there, ‘nd then i’ll fuck you real nicely after. alright, princess?”

and you soon follow through with just that, nodding decorously with tears welling at your eyes’ waterlines before you’re lurching forward, crying out his name. thighs giving out and fighting to ride out your orgasm, where simon then saves you with his attentive grip on your hips, finishing the job for you rather recklessly.

“good fuckin’ girl… y’did so well for me, love,” and every other gruff, dragged word of praise in his vocabulary echos in your fuzzy mind as you come down from your high.

you’re still catching your breath, fulling laying on his chest by the time he’s inching you backwards whilst taking his hard dick out from his boxers. lifting your weak hips for you as he whispers small, reassuring hushes right by your ear, soothing your winces as he fully sheathes you on his thick cock, inch by fucking inch.

he fucks himself up into you, not daring to make you overwork your body anymore, and he handles you so delicately you could almost fall asleep on his mattress of a body. you crumble to pieces with the vibrations of his chest from his unending groaning, the feeling of his veiny and rough cock stretching and filling you to the brim almost becoming minute compared to the sleepiness washing over you.

“there ya go, pretty… don’t have’ta do any work now, jus’ like i promised, eh?” he coos, and he could feel you smiling against his collarbone. one of his large hands cradles the back of your head while the other gropes at your ass lovingly. “takin’ me just fine, sweet girl.”

you bury your heated face into his squishy pectoral, whining at the overstimulation to your clit at the particular angle, left so utterly sensitive from your prior orgasm. you’re limp in his strong hold, securer than ever as he lifts your hips up and down his thick cock.

he uses your tender cunt ‘til he’s satisfied, groaning right up against your ticklish ear when he empties his hot cum in your throbbing pussy, the perfect thing milking him dry and turning you exhausted.

he actually sits in the moment for a peaceful while, coddling you against his rising and falling chest and murmuring sweet praises, until eventually his disciplined brain kicks in despite your protests.

“don’t go passin’ out on me yet, sweetheart.” you grumble out a refusing noise which makes him laugh softly, but apparently it’s not enough to win him over. “let’s go get you cleaned up, yeah?”

(simon and his size difference & free use kinks go CRAZY in this one. also this instagram reel is so him coded ok bye bye <3 cont.)

[freyito]

ꜰʀᴇʏᴀ ꜝ ⨟ ʜᴏᴡ ʜᴇ ʟᴏᴠᴇꜱ

✭ pairing(s): aventurine, dr ratio, boothill, gallagher, sunday, argenti sampo, jing yuan, blade, luocha, dan heng, gepard, caelus, welt (seperate) x reader

✩ inspo: this is fun to think about

✧ a/n: for those who don't know exactly what this means (also shoutout to freya the god of love), there are 3-5 'types' of (romantic) love. eros, romantic love, ludus, playful love, pragma, enduring love, and then there's mania which is obsessive love and agape which is universal love. The last two can sorta bend in a familiar or platonic way as well as romantic.

🗒 cw: gn reader, just fluff, proofread

✎ wc: 3.3k

⎯ Aventurine

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Aventurine prefers to flirt, to have fun, be a little silly with his love. After all, life’s too short to not enjoy it. He wants a partner who will not only put up with his games but also join in and enjoy it, someone to tease who will tease back. He would love a deeper connection as well, but before that comes fun.

“Honey, I’m hooome~!” Aventurine calls from the apartment door, making his way to the kitchen. You weren’t cooking anything, simply sifting through the fridge for a snack. His arms wrap around your waist as the scent of his near overbearing cologne washes over you. He presses his lips to your neck and peppers it with a bunch of fleeting kisses, mumbling about his day into your skin even though you didn’t ask. When you dared to try and pull away, he only pulls you closer, pinching at your waist and grinning. “Awhhh, are you not happy to see me?”

He doesn’t give you time to reply, hauling you up and turning on his heels. You don’t get to complain, not before he practically throws you on the bed and throws himself onto you. He wastes no time finding your most ticklish spots, waiting for you to ask for mercy. “I want a proper welcome home!” He exclaims, like you hadn't given him enough attention. Not like you can do what he wants while you do your best not to laugh, squirming underneath him, trying to break free from his tickle attack.

⎯ Dr. Ratio

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Ratio isn’t necessarily the best at showing his affection, he is head over heels for you. Absolutely and irrevocably in love, and it only grows with each passing day. He’s quite the gentleman when you get past his cold demeanor, and is quite by-the-book.

You had met him in his classroom after his classes, to give him the lunch you had made him. He regards you with a brisk ‘mh’, You are used to this reaction, and you don’t take it to heart. He tells you he’ll be home a little later, and apologizes. Silence stretches between you two before you tell him it’s alright and start to leave the room.

“I am sorry, my love,” He grabs your wrist before you can fully turn around. He presses a kiss to the inside of your wrist, eyes locked on yours as he apologizes. “I’ll make it up to you, I promise. Dinner tomorrow.” He’s so blunt with it, like you have no choice. But he says it with such sincerity, an emotion that is hard to get from him. His eyes linger with yours as you nod, before letting you go and returning to grading his student’s papers.

⎯ Boothill

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Boothill loves with his whole heart, but he just can’t take it seriously. He’s always teasing you, whether it be sultry words, little touches, anything. He loves making you blush.

Tonight, you two are at some bar he had dragged you to, and it’s quite lively. Which gives Boothill ample time to show you off, his arm around your shoulders or your waist whenever someone comes up to talk to you or him. He leans in ever so closer with that toothy grin, eyes half-lidded as he whispers something about how cute you look tonight. When he sees even the tiniest blush begin to bloom, he amps up his flirting tenfold.

Over the entire night, he makes little comments that turn into big flourishes of his love for you, small, teasing touches that trail from your shoulder down to your hands, interlocking your fingers. He leans in close and whispers against your ear, not necessarily just flirts, literally anything he can think of, like that you guys need to put soda on the grocery list or something. It’s the way his breath fans over your ear that causes goosebumps to riddle skin. You try and hide your blushing face, but he grabs your chin and tilts your head to meet his gaze, using his hat to shield your faces from the rest of the patrons and pressing a kiss to your lips.

⎯ Gallagher

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. While Gallagher may not sound like it, he’s romantic by heart and looks for a partner he can spend his life with. He wants to settle down, enjoy something that lasts. And he prefers a partner that does the same.

He was lounging on the couch at home, a rare sight normally. When you walked into the living room, he greeted you with a lazy smile, reaching for you like he wasn’t a 30 something year old man. He grabbed your wrist and guided you into his arms with a yawn, nuzzling into your neck and breathing in your scent. He lets out a deep, rumbling ‘mmm’ as he does so, sharing no other words.

Any time you try to break free from his hold, whether you wanna eat or need to go to the bathroom, he groans. He doesn’t say much, whispering quiet ‘love yous’ here and there, and if you really do have to get up, he practically follows you around. He’s rarely ever clingy, he’s probably one of the most independent people you know. He’s only like this when he has something on his mind, and marriage isn’t exactly a far off thought…

⎯ Sunday

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Sunday is a textbook romantic. A dinner and a movie, roses, have you home by ten, he’s the whole package. Anything you could want, you will have. There’s always a fresh bouquet of flowers in the vase in your living room, and perhaps a new poem for/about you every month.

Whatever he gave you in reality, he gave you tenfold in the Dreamscape (especially since he can). This includes his affection, where you two are hidden away… somewhere in Dewlight Pavillion. Somewhere where Sunday promises no one will find you two. It’s not as if you two are doing something lewd, he’s nestled up against your chest, that’s about it. But, he’s been yearning for some time alone with you since forever. With how busy he has been, he hadn’t got a moment alone with you.

“I missed you.” He states. His work is secondary to this moment, as he grabs your hand and presses a kiss to your palm, before nuzzling his cheek into it, all the while his eyes stay on yours. He has you flustered by the way he does it so desperately, yet so… carefully. He needed this, but he didn’t want to allow himself to lose his composure. So, the best he could do was steal you away when you were bringing him his mail, leave you breathless with a few tender kisses and gentle touches, and lead you back to your way out of the Pavillion.

⎯ Argenti

AGAPE ; UNIVERSAL LOVE. Love, devotion, and worship go hand in hand in hand for Argenti. He loves with his heart, body, mind, and soul. He loves unconditionally, every little bit of you, even the ground you walk on. Where the water wet your skin, where the dirt kissed your hands, he loves and loves and loves.

You two are dancing in your kitchen, to a soundless beat. The only rhythm coming from your barely-heard footsteps and the clank of Argenti’s armor as he shares such a moment with you. It is rare that he is home, always out on some adventure across star systems, but it is always a celebration when he is. Atleast, he makes it a celebration. Laughter fills the room as you try your best to keep up with his steps, the man elegant and flawless, as usual, while you stumble just a tick behind.

“You’ve got it, I know you do.” Argenti coos as you do your best to fall into his steps, still stumbling every so often. He dips you down, eyes searching yours with that content smile plastered on his face, before he pulls you up and chest-to-chest with him. His eyes sparkle with mirth, spinning you two around as if your kitchen was a real and proper ballroom, swaying gently. His eyes closed then, humming some tune, a song lost to time that only he remembered. He had hummed it on your longest days and on your darkness nights, the days you weeped and sobbed in his arms, and the days you had turned to him with such a bright smile. A tune that resembled something homely.

⎯Sampo Koski

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. While Sampo can be quite the romantic, he prefers to tease and play with you instead. Sure, he could dance with you all night long, bring you fresh roses everyday, but where’s the fun in that? He finds it much more fitting to flirt with you on end, brag a little about his ‘sales’, splurge a little for you every now and then.

You walk into your bedroom to find Sampo laying on his side, his head propped up with his hand, a rose in his mouth. He gives you a mock-sultry glare while you stand there, dumbfounded, halfway between disgust and laughter. Rose petals decorate the bed, and the room, and you tell yourself that you’ll have to remind him later that he’ll be cleaning it up.

For now, though, he beckons you closer, and when you do, he pulls you onto the bed quickly, spitting out the rose, and peppering your face with kisses. The room fills with laughter as you do your best to break away, but he continues this torrent of kisses, rarely taking a breath. When you complain that ‘it’s too much!’ he only ups the ante, kissing your neck, your shoulder, any exposed skin he can find. You simply just have to accept your fate, now…

⎯ Jing Yuan

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. He who has waited for an eternity yearns for an eternity spent in one’s arms. Jing Yuan has lost most of those dear to him, if not all. While he knows life will reach its end, he cannot help but wish he had someone to spend the rest of it with.

It is very rare for Jing Yuan to be free for even an hour, and yet here he was, a whole day to himself. He’s lounging in his room, basking in the sun while you lay in his arms, reading a book. You two barely share any words, yet the silence between says it all. It’s a comfortable feeling, something that feels like home, something he cherishes every second of. It’s one thing to find home within the Xianzhou, but it’s another to find home in someone’s arms.

He tilts his head as he looks down at the book your reading, contemplating if he wanted to pull your attention away from the book, or not. With a soft ‘hmph’, he makes his decision to leave you alone, choosing to nuzzle into your hair instead. You don’t react, which he doesn’t mind, wrapping an arm around your waist and pulling you impossibly closer as he closes his eyes. Perhaps an afternoon nap would do him some good…

⎯ Blade

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Not even death could keep Blade away from you. His own suicidal tendencies, his never-ending want to die, his need to die, his own voice begging for a means to an end, it all washes away when he sees your smile, as if the sun is greeting him once more after such a wretched eclipse.

He knows he has loved in the past, and yet when he recalls that feeling, Blade is only met with a burning feeling akin to rage clawing its way through his chest. He prefers to not think about it much, focusing on Elio’s script and whatever mission he’s been dispatched on. Yet, when he’s met with you laying in his bed, messing with his phone, waiting for him, a different kind of feeling weaves its way into his heart. Something warm, a kindling, of sorts.

His own voice quiets when he allows himself to feel that feeling, peace, perhaps? He’s quick to brush it off, shove it down along with any other emotion that was daring to well up, and takes a seat next to you. When you look up and beckon him closer, he doesn’t accept. But, he does lean in, and presses a chaste kiss to your cheek. It’s a rare display, you can’t remember the last time he even dared to hold your hand. And before you can question him, he’s gone, out of the room, leaving his phone behind, like always.

⎯ Luocha

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. Luocha is quite the romantic when he wants to be. Since he spends most of his time wandering, he doesn’t get to see you very often. But when he returns home, he loves nothing more than to share stories of his travels and hold you in his arms. You are his anchor, what brings him back to reality when his thoughts drift to the distant churches and candle wicks that give way to angry flames…

He finds you sleeping on the couch, phone in hand, twitching every now and then, but making no real reaction to any sound. It was clear that you were waiting for Luocha to come home, and had succumbed to sleep. Luocha had texted you 4 days ago that he would be home, and you yourself had no idea how long you had been up, the past couple of days had skewed your perception of time. By now, it was around 3:00 am.

With a soft huff and an even softer gaze, Luocha scoops you up into his arms and carries you to your shared bed. He’s careful, doing his best to be as quiet as possible as he carries you, but you still wake up. You mutter a slurred ‘Luocha?’, and all he does is shush you, shaking his head and greeting you with a warm smile. You don’t get time to protest as he lays you down on the bed, giving you a soft kiss on your forehead, before turning on his heel and exiting the room. He will join you later, as much as he wants to lay beside you now, he’d like to get settled back in, first.

⎯ Dan Heng

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Dan Heng tends to retreat into himself, a lot. Ever since he revisited the Xianzhou, this has become a habit of his. He doesn’t exactly push you away, but his ‘time to think’ seems to overtake your guys’ alone time. Regardless of it all, he always comes back to you, finding home safe in your arms.

He wakes in the dead of night, his past life’s memories catching up to him once more. He doesn’t cry or scream, his breath is shallow, as he listens to the silence of the hotel you two were staying at. He stills for a moment, the scars of the past fading into a blissful nothingness, before he looks down at you. Sleeping peacefully, completely unbothered by Dan Heng’s sudden awakening.

His body relaxes as his mind quiets finally, the simple sight of you reminding him that the past is the past, and nothing more matters right now. He settles back into bed, taking a moment to admire your face, hesitantly reaching out. His fingers brush against your cheek, trailing to your hairline, tucking a strand behind your ear. You don’t even flinch, but you instinctively curl up closer to him. Dan Heng graces your sleeping form with a rare smile and a huff, before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you closer.

⎯ Gepard

EROS ; ROMANTIC LOVE. While Gepard may be shy about certain things, that doesn’t mean he is lacking in the romance department. His job may keep him away from you for quite a while, but he always finds his way back to you.

It had been quite a while since you and Gepard had a proper date, or even night out. Oftentimes, he’d come home late into the night, too exhausted to even eat, and all he would want to do is cuddle up next to you in bed. He loves his job, he truly does, even if it means coming home at near 2 am and waking up at 5 am. Of course he wants to spend as much time with you, but some days are harder than others, and he wants to stay as healthy as he can.

Tonight, however, he’s come home early. At 6 pm to be exact. A completely normal time to get off work… if he wasn’t the captain of the Silvermane Guards. Before you can even ask why he’s home so early, he hurriedly asks you out on a date. His face is only slightly flushed, and the minute you say yes, he lights up like the sun peeking through the clouds on a rainy day. He takes you out to one of the nicest, fanciest restaurants in Belobog, and he just cannot contain the giddy smile all throughout the night. He stares at you as if you are straight out of a movie, eyes practically shining everytime you laugh.

⎯ Caelus

LUDUS ; PLAYFUL LOVE. Caelus doesn’t take himself too seriously, even if there’s a stellaron housed inside of him. So why take love too seriously…? Not that he doesn’t love you, no, he adores you. But between all this trailblazing and saving planets and researching stellarons and what not, he doesn’t get much of a chance to be a little silly. And you, luckily, are his escape from that.

He barges into your room with the brightest smile known to man, his hair a little messy, and what you can only hope is soot dusting his cheeks and hands. Caelus looks so proud. Too proud. In his hands he holds what looks to be a worn out raccoon plushie, also blessed with a heavy dusting of soot. You stare at him blankly as he does not explain himself, simply waltzing over to your bed.

“Our son.” He states, so proudly, as if he had brought the thing into the world on his own. Desperately in need of some fun today, you play along, telling him ‘our son needs a bath.’ And Caelus looks at you as if you have offended his entire lineage (which, apparently, is two people now.) He jokingly chastises you for calling your son ‘dirty’, and “How could you say that to him!?” “He’s just a baby!”. Though, eventually after hours and hours of him threatening to put his sooty hands all over you, he washes the stuffed raccoon. And himself.

⎯ Welt

PRAGMA ; ENDURING LOVE. Welt has seen lifetimes pass, and lifetimes more come into the universe. He’s vowed to himself to love whoever comes into his life as long as he loves, to love hard and never back down. He dreams of church bells ringing while the scent of roses fill the air, rather than the mournful gong of those ringing bells, signaling someone's end, or the bittersweet smell of lilies.

He holds you closely tonight, practically bathing in your cologne, eyes closed as he hums a tune from some far off timeline. It is a quiet, tender moment, one that is very rare between the two of you. Welt could spend all his time on the Astral Express and still never have enough time for you. He is greedy in that way, seeking any time he can with you, even if it is only for 5 minutes.

He himself doesn’t know why he’s feel especially wanting tonight, but he doesn’t busy his mind asking himself why. Time and space is infinite even as constricting as it feels, and he knows better than to keep himself occupied with such silly questions. The day he catches himself not missing you, yearning for you, is the day that he will wither into stardust.

© freyito, 2024 | masterlist | queue | kofi | star header by roseschoices DO NOT REPOST AS YOUR OWN OR USE FOR AI/AI CHATBOTS.

[ange1heavensent]

━ You Wanna Guess? ━

Pairing: ellie williams x fem!reader

Content Warning: +18 content, minors do not interact, fic is based on Guess by Charli xcx featuring Billie Eilish, oral (r! receiving), kitchen sex, thumb sucking, porn with plot

w/c ≈ 1800

Ellie couldn’t keep her eyes away from you, more specifically keep her eyes from drifting down to your lower back, the small tattoo peeking out from the lowrise jeans you were wearing, however it wasn’t just the tattoo that was piquing Ellies interest. The black lace thongs that were sticking out were much more interesting. 

-

It was supposed to be a lazy Sunday, but you decided that the two of you needed to get out of the small apartment you were sharing. You'd been cooped up there since Friday evening and Ellie would’ve been fully contempt with a weekend full of nothing but you two being close to one another, but you had other plans for how you were going to spend your Sunday and Ellie decided to tag along.  

You started with lunch and then the two of you were roaming the streets of Boston, checking off boxes on your shopping list. First looking for new duvet covers and that's when Ellie noticed the black lace fabric sticking out. You were crouched, looking at some blue flannel duvet covers and Ellie couldn’t help but stare, because it was her favorite pair. The black lace ones, with the bow in the front. She also knew that they were part of a matching set and she wondered if you were wearing the bra that went with it. The black lace lingerie set was something you picked out together, Ellie's gift to you that Valentine’s day - which was more of a gift to herself, but that’s irrelevant. 

It was as if the underwear you were wearing was haunting her. They were plaguing her mind. She tried to keep her composure, but they kept on reappearing throughout the day. At the bookstore, when you once again crouched down to look at the classics on the bottom shelf, or at the grocery store when you were reaching for something on the top shelf. Ellie was capable of keeping her hands off of you in public, most of the time. The two of you had been together for a long time at this point and Ellie had been in situations were she found you incredibly sexy, to the point where all she wanted were to press you up against the nearest surface and just fuck you sensless, but she’d often managed to keep her cool and wait until you were at home. Now however, she was a ticking time bomb and it was the underwear's fault. 

-

The two of you had finally made it home and were putting away the groceries together. The way you moved around made the underwear peek out several times and Ellie couldn’t keep her composure any longer, she needed you now. So, Ellie decided to move towards you, wrap her arms around your waist and bury her head in your neck, breathing in your scent. “Ellie” you said while playfully trying to get her away from you, her breathing tickling the side of your neck. Ellie’s arms only wrapped tighter around your waist and she huffed out a “what” you could hear the pout on her face, “I’m not doing anything,” she continued, the pout turning into a smirk. “Yes, you are,” you chuckled, “you're distracting me, let me just finish up and you’ll get my undivided attention.” “ You better” she only huffed out, then returned to bury her face in your neck and her arms remained around your waist. She clung onto your body as you moved through the kitchen, putting away the remainder of your groceries. Then, as you promised, your attention turned towards her. 

You turned around in her arms, your hands moving to cup her face. Ellie’s hands which used to have a respectful placement around your waist, were now drifting down and placed them on your ass and hips. Ellie sucked in a breath as she buried her thumbs underneath the waistband of your jeans, stroking the material she was entranced by the whole day. “What has gotten you so needy, baby?” you asked softly, Ellie answered by pressing her lips on yours. Because she was needy and she was needy for you.

Ellie’s hands moved to unbutton your jeans and when they laid on the kitchen floor, the place where they belong according to Ellie, her hands immediately gripped onto your thighs to place you upon the edge of the kitchen counter. “Been thinking about this all day, babe,” Ellie said while placing sloppy kisses onto your neck. “About what?” you questioned playfully, she had been giving you ‘bedroom eyes’ all day, but you couldn’t come up with a reason as to why. “The fucking underwear, baby,” she said looking into your eyes, while simultaneously cupping her hand inbetween your legs. You let out a strangled “oh” both for the clarification but also the sudden pressure. 

Ellie’s lips trailed down your chin, neck and onto your fabric clothed chest, which Ellie immediately made an effort to remove. A curse slipped out from her lips as she saw that you were in fact wearing the matching bra. Her hands and mouth latched onto your lace clothed tits, massaging, licking and biting lightly. Your hands flung into her hair, weaving themselves through her auburn locks. “Baby please,” you pleaded, pushing Ellie’s head down to where you wanted her the most. She chuckled into your skin, lips placing light kisses down your stomach, “look who's needy now, sweet girl” Ellie muttered looking up at you with a smug look plastered on her face. 

She grabbed onto your thighs, angling your hips upward for better access. Surprised by the fast motion you let out a yelp, as an apology Ellie kissed your thigh. Ellie’s hands were on your hips, keeping you in place, fingers weaving themselves in your black lace underwear, playing with the fabric, teasingly. Ellie’s lips were on the move, from light kisses on your plush inner thighs, to your lower stomach, but never at your center. You tried to guide Ellies head towards your pussy, but she kept on teasing kisses around it. You couldn’t fathom the level of self control she must have at this moment, if this was any other day, she would’ve already been two fingers deep already. 

You let out a whine and uttered “fuck, Ellie please just-” when she moved away from your lower half, positioning herself to be face to face with you. You were cut off by the fast movement of her hand tangling in your hair, pulling at it slightly. A gasp was released by you at the sudden movement. Ellie gazed deeply into your eyes, “you’ve been teasing me all day baby, and I can’t have a little fun with you? Such a brat,” she said mockingly, one hand moving to cup your cheek, thumb slowly tracing your bottom lip. You pushed your tongue out slightly, licking her thumb. Ellie decided to move it along further, pushing her thumb deeper into your mouth, you wrapped your lips around it and started sucking. Ellie watched with fascination, and the facade of self control started to crumble. Deep breathing could be heard from the both of you, Ellie released her thumb from your mouth, with a last swipe of your bottom lip, before her hand disappeared between your thighs. “So wet for me,” she stated, while her thumb was stroking your clit through your soaked underwear.

Feeling how wet you were, Ellie decided to move downwards again, however this time at a much faster pace. Her head was buried between your thighs in no time, she gave one lick on your still lace covered core, before moving the fabric aside and dove in. She was lapping at your core like a starved woman. She was licking, sucking and lightly biting on your clit, pulling moans, whines and pleads out of your mouth. It was messy, Ellie’s lower half of her face fully drenched in your wetness. Her hands were holding your hips down, so you wouldn’t accidentally buck yourself off the kitchen counter. 

The rhythmic sucking and licking on your clit was bringing you closer to an orgasm. Your head was thrown back, leaning against the kitchen cabinet, one hand buried in Ellie’s hair, the other gripping the edge of the counter. Your thighs were now placed on  Ellie’s shoulders, her head secured in between your thighs. The apartment was quiet, except for the pornographic noises the two of you were making. 

Ellie could sense that you were approaching climax, your body was tensing and you were grinding against her face, her suspicion was confirmed by you repeating “don’t stop” mixed with numerous curses. Ellie wouldn’t dare to stop, if she was honest, she probably needed this just as much as you did. Ellie did just as she was told to do, she continued. She continued to lap at your core, continued to moan into it, and continued to look up at you as you were approaching your climax.

It wasn’t long until your last throaty chant of Ellie’s name was vibrating off the kitchen walls, your body tense and sweaty. Ellie’s head was still locked in place between your thighs, the last grinds of your hips hitting her tongue. Then your body relaxed and slumped backwards, Ellie’s grip on your hips releasing as she straightened herself. Her disheveled face now leveled with yours. A smile spread on your face when you got a good look at the state Ellie was in, hair all ruffled, sticking to her forehead and neck, her mouth and chin glistening. 

She leant in towards you, lips pressing against yours, this time much softer. Her tongue protruding into your mouth, moaning at the taste of yourself. Then her lips started moving again, down your chin, jawline, neck and towards your chest. You hummed at the sensations, your hands tangling themselves in Ellie’s hair yet again, pulling her upwards to face you. You saw the frustrated look on her face, she wanted a second round. You chuckled at her expression, playfully stating “I should wear these underwear more often, huh?” Ellie’s hands were yet again playing with the lace when thinking about her answer “I don’t think you can, they're ruined, but I can get you new ones,” she said smirking, looking up at you through her eyelashes. You kissed her, giving you time to think of a comeback. You parted your lips from hers, whispering against them, “Ellie,” “mhm?” she responded, you moved your lips closer to hers, “I shouldn't be wearing ruined underwear, right?” Gazing into her eyes, to see if she got the innuendo. She shook her head with a sly smile on her face, “you definitely shouldn’t,” she said, dragging your underwear down your legs letting them fall to the kitchen floor.

｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:+* ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡.｡:+*ﾟ ゜ﾟ *+:｡.｡:

Thank you for reading! If you liked this fic, check out my masterlist for more :)

[katsu28]

slow down, be here

pairing: lando norris x reader

summary: after a long, frustrating day of training, a night in with you is just what lando needs to leave it all in his rearview mirror (2.4k)

warnings: teensy but of swearing, reader is in university but major is unspecified, lando being a certified menace

a/n: i was gonna post this sometime next week but the lando girlies (aka me) need some comfort after today's shitshow. may or may not have been entirely inspired by that video of lando in the white singlet. that look (however fleeting) did things to me okay

You’re sitting at the kitchen counter when you hear Lando’s key in the door, one leg drawn up towards your chest, the other swinging aimlessly as you revise your notes last minute. 

Well, more specifically, when you hear him drop his keys on the floor in search of the correct one right before he inserts it into the lock. You’ve loved him and lived with him long enough to know it’s something he does everyday without fail. Whether it’s because he’s got clumsy hands or he’s Pavloved himself into dropping them at the same spot, you don’t think too much about it. The key drop signals that Lando is home. 

What also signals that he’s home is the way he lets out the strangest sound you’ve ever heard as he lets the door swing shut behind him after he’s let himself in—something between a sigh and a whine mixed with a guttural groan. 

“In here!” You call, taking the cap of your pen out from between your teeth. It only takes a few seconds until Lando emerges from the hallway, socked feet dragging himself towards where you’re sitting with a soft smile aimed at his rumpled state. “Hi, love.” 

He plops down on the stool next to you unceremoniously, hooking his foot under the bar of yours to tug you as close as possible to him on instinct. His chin finds the dip between your neck and shoulder to nestle into, and the deflating sigh he lets out once he’s situated himself to his liking sends a shiver through you. “Hi.” He mumbles, voice muffled. 

“Heard you’ve had quite a day.” You stroke a hand over his curls, smoothing them away from his forehead gently. Oscar had shot you a heads up text a little bit before Lando had arrived, saying that Lando might seem a bit put out when he got home. Something about a handful of tests not going the way they wanted, strategies not working out the way they planned. It sounds like enough to drive anyone crazy, but Lando is the type of person to take things especially hard. 

Lando lets out a vague sound of acknowledgement. You can tell he’s exhausted and frustrated, and you know exactly what he needs to wind down after days like these. “I’ll order takeaway for dinner. You go shower. It’ll probably be here by the time you finish up.” 

He gives a more content sigh this time, pressing a kiss to your pulse point. The tips of his hair tickle your cheek as he does so. “You’re a gem, darling.” 

“Tell me something I don’t know.” You tease, pushing him away playfully. He’s smiling big at you when you meet his gaze, something beyond fondness behind his eyes despite the tiredness as he does. “What?” 

“I love you.” 

“Love you too, stinky. Now go. Wash up before I make an executive decision and order sushi.” 

That gets your boyfriend scrambling to his feet fast, aiming a horrified look your way as he books it down the hallway. “You monster!” 

You chuckle quietly, busying yourself with finding Lando’s favorite Italian spot on your delivery app. Soon enough, the food is ordered and all you have to do now is wait.  

Lando reemerges from the bedroom just as you pull open the front door to grab the food from the delivery person. He figures you’ve got it handled by the way you’re chatting nicely with them, so he busies himself with drinks. 

There’s a bottle on top of the fridge that looks vaguely fancy, and though Lando doesn’t know much about wine, Charles had gifted him the bottle a while ago for his birthday. He trusts Charles’ taste. 

He does his best to sound out the French on the label and shrugs, snagging two wine glasses to go along with it. By the time he finishes pouring a generous amount in each glass, you’ve just closed the door, joining him in the kitchen with a massive bag of food. His brows fly into his hairline at the sight. 

You twist your lips to the side in thought, wrinkling your nose as you study the bulging paper bag. “I might’ve ordered too much.” 

“Good thing I always rise to the occasion.” 

You glance up at him, setting it down on the counter in favor of sidling over to where he is, not even fighting the smitten grin stretching your lips as you maneuver yourself between him and the marble. 

His curls are damp, messily towel ruffled and starting to frizz as they air dry. He already looks more at ease, comfier than ever in a pair of loose black sweatpants and a white singlet. You make a mental note to remind him to wear white more. It makes his tan skin glow, and it makes you not want to take your eyes off him. 

Your fingers skate along the exposed skin of his chest, stopping once to push into those dimples in his cheeks that you love so much before moving up to link around the back of his neck. His hands find their way to your waist at the same time, sliding coyly under the hem of your shirt to rest on your bare skin. 

In one fell swoop, you’re up on the counter, Lando nudging his way between your knees. He kisses you languidly, like he has all the time in the world to explore your mouth; long, slow kisses mixed in with brief pecks until you’re all but melting against him. He’s familiar and solid under your touch, all flexing muscle and warm skin as your hands run along his arms. 

After a while, Lando’s focus shifts to trailing open mouthed kisses down the side of your neck. On instinct, you tilt your head to give him more space to work and he takes it gladly, focusing on that one spot just below your ear that he knows for a fact works on you every time. 

You sigh appreciatively at the pressure of his lips against your skin, the way his teeth nip at that sweet spot but his tongue sneaks out to soothe the sting just as quick. 

Your fingers dig into his biceps as he continues his venture, but when he starts kissing along your shoulder, you squeeze a little harder. As much as you want to continue this, you remember you’ve got food waiting for both of you. He stops immediately, perfect lips pouted, eyes wide when he comes back up to gauge your reaction. 

“Eat first, kiss later.” You explain, peeling him off you (albeit a bit reluctantly) before hopping off the countertop. He whines something unintelligible as you unload the food, but as soon as you push a container of his favorite pasta towards him, he seems to forget his disappointment. 

The silence as you eat is comfortable, both of you seemingly more hungry than you thought you were as the food and wine begin to disappear. All the while, the space between the two of you grows smaller and smaller, until your elbows start to bump each other with each bite you take. 

You’ve mastered the art of enjoying each other’s company without having to say a word. 

“Were you revising earlier? When I came home?” He asks after a while, jabbing his fork in the direction of your notes. A few strands of pasta splatter onto the counter with the action and you tsk, nudging him with your foot. The last thing you want is sauce all over your papers. 

“Yeah, I was. Just some final practicing, see if anything needs tweaking before I have to present my thesis.” 

“I’m sure it’s perfect. You’ve been working on it for ages.” 

You spear a chunk of tomato with your fork, dragging it around in the sauce aimlessly. “I dunno. Everything is there, but it still feels like something’s missing.” 

“Present it to me.” 

“What?” 

“Pretend I’m the university board, or whatever, and present it to me. Maybe you’ll figure out what’s missing if you act like it’s the real thing.” 

“Really? You’d do that for me?” 

Lando scoffs, looking offended. “Baby, I’d do anything for you. Go on, do your little scholar thing for me. I’ll be the best fake board you’ve ever seen.” You gnaw on your lip, unsure. The idea seems silly, but it’ll probably work. “C’mon, bub. You’ve got a genius brain up there in that pretty head of yours, let me see it in action.” 

“Okay. Okay, fine, but you can’t be mean! You have to be nice, ‘cause I’m already freaking the fuck out about having to present next week and I don’t think I can deal with—” 

“First of all, I’m never mean to you. Second of all, get the fuck up there before I take my offer back.” 

You stick your tongue out at Lando whilst you grab your papers at the other end of the counter, feigning swatting him with them as he bounces his way over to the couch. He settles in right smack dab on the middle cushion, grabbing a pillow to hug while you do a quick once over of everything. Then you’re ready. 

You stumble through your introduction a little bit, but the words start flowing a few sentences into the body of your research—days, weeks, months of work having burned them straight into your brain. The longer you talk, the more comfortable you become, which gives you the confidence to set aside your notes for once. Part of you feels like you’re about to clam up and forget everything any second now, but you don’t. You forge on like you were born to. 

All that comes to a halt when you hasten a glance over at Lando, who’s staring at you without a thought behind those gorgeous eyes of his, smiling goofily at you. 

“Lando!” You whine, pouting. “Have you even heard a word I’ve said?” 

Lando blinks a few times like he’s coming back down to Earth, letting a sheepish grin creep its way across his face. “Not really.” 

“Seriously?” 

“I’m sorry! You just look really pretty when you talk about things you’re passionate about. It’s hard to focus on words when I look at you.” 

Well, you can’t exactly be mad at him when he’s sweet like that. Besides, you didn’t think he’d understand half of what you were saying anyways, and you’ve found the answer to your problems. Nothing was missing. Lando was right, you’re fully prepared for your thesis presentation. You just needed to get your nerves out of the way. 

“Worst fake board ever.” You huff. 

“But I just said you look pretty!” 

You prop a hand on your hip. “Flattery will get you nowhere, Norris.” 

“Oh yeah? Nowhere, really?” He rises from his seat, creeping towards you with that glint in his eyes you know far too well. You know what he’s about to do, and you’re about ready to make a run for it. 

He bridges the gap between the two of you faster than you think possible, catching you around the waist right before you can make your great escape down the hallway, hoisting you off your feet with ease despite your wriggling around like a fish out of water, and hauling you over to the couch. He tosses you over the back of it just as easily, following suit before you can scramble away. 

Realistically, you should've anticipated the whip fast reflexes of a professional racing driver. Having a faster reaction time than the average person is part of the job description. 

“Lando, no!!!” You squeal, already breaking into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. 

“Maybe flattery won’t get me anywhere, but I know what might!” He pins you down against the cushions with your knees clamped between his own as he digs his fingers into your sides viciously, ignoring your pleas in favor of grinning wickedly. 

“I give up! I give up, please—” You gasp, squirming under his relentless torture. One of his hands comes up to pin both your wrists down easily, probably so you don't punch him in the face trying to escape. (You’ve done it once before, purely by accident, but Lando’s never let you forget it.) 

“Say that you love me.” 

“You already know I do!” 

“Wanna hear you say it.” He insists, jabbing you in the side threateningly. 

You shake your head frantically. You’re near tears at this point, stomach hurting from laughing so much. There’s no point in dragging it out any longer, especially when sweet, sweet freedom is as easy as telling the love of your life that you love him. “I love you!” 

“What was that?” He tilts his head, brows raising expectantly. 

“I love you, Lando Norris.” You repeat, as steady as you can despite your breathlessness. That seems to satisfy him. 

He gives it up entirely, wedging himself between you and the back of the couch, making himself comfortable as you try to catch your breath. You roll over onto your side so you’re facing him, allowing him more space to nuzzle against you. “You’re a dickhead.” 

“I’m your dickhead, and you love me.” He replies smugly, burying his face into the crook of your neck. His arms worm their way underneath you and link up behind your back, legs tangling with yours. At this point, you’re not sure where you end and he begins, which is just the way Lando always likes it. 

“Against my better nature, I do.” You sigh, dropping a kiss to the top of his head. He hums sleepily, exhaling in deep comfort. “I’m sorry you had a rough go of it today.”

“S’fine. Nothing you’ve got to be sorry about. You’ve already made it better.” He mumbles. He already sounds like he's about to drift off.

“D’you want to talk about it?” 

Lando lifts his head to look up at you, blinking slowly. He offers you a small smile. “Not really. Just wanna lay here with you and forget about it all.” 

“Okay.” You say softly. 

You might not be able to help him with everything in life, but this, you can do. You thread one hand through his hair, smoothing through his curls in that one way you know he loves. Your other hand comes up around his back, fingers scratching a gentle path up and down his spine. 

If Lando was a cat, he’d be purring right now. 

Instead he opts for an appreciative groan, pushing his nose back into the warm nook he’d created. His lips press against your skin—once, twice, a third time for good measure. “Thank you.” 

Whether he’s thanking you for scratching his back or for just being here for him on the days he feels like he’s not at his best, you’re not sure, but either way you give him a tight squeeze and another kiss in lieu of a response. 

You’ll do anything if it means making sure he knows you’ve always got him. 

follow @katsu-library to be notified when i post a new fic :)

[bpmiranda]

dear lord your writing might be the best i've read in my life 😭

i don't know if you particularly take requests or anything... but guess by charli xcx and logan has been swirling in my head for days 😵‍💫

there's just something about how you write that makes me even more feral for logan

Guess (Logan Howlett) nsfw

A/N: bf!logan, 18+ mutant reader (unspecified power), oral f! receiving, fingering, light knife play, semi public

It was like torture for Logan being able to smell you and not have a taste of what was underneath your skirt. You were very strict about not fooling around outside of the bedroom, however, but you also had never been with a man as determined and sly as Logan. “If I guess the color, can I keep them as a prize?” He asks against your ear, his hands on your hips as he is pressed to your back. His firm chest locking you between him and the kitchen island where you are preparing a snack before you go out with Rogue and Kitty.

“Logan,” You laugh, shaking your head in disbelief as his fingers slowly drum up your waist, tickling you softly. “I’m about to leave, can’t we just do this when I get back?” You ask, turning around in his arms to face him as you pop a chunk of pineapple into your mouth.

“C’mon,” He pleads with that smile and those eyes looking down at you so lovingly. “You just don’t want to cause you know I’ll get it right.” He smirks and you roll your eyes, shaking your head at him. “How many guesses do I get?” He insists, kissing your forehead softly and then your nose.

“None, because I’m not playing.” You state matter-of-factly as you cross your arms over your chest, tilting your head to the side as he kisses your jaw and then your pulse point. Logan whines softly against your skin and the sound makes goosebumps rise on your arms. “Baby, we just don’t have time.”

“The girls are giggling upstairs, taking their time, I can hear them.” Logan smirks, sucking a soft kiss onto the base of your neck. “We’ve got time.”

Your eyes roll as you think, of course they’re taking their time, and you sigh, “You get three guesses.” You finally give in and Logan’s lips continue working your neck as he knows it’s your most sensitive spot. “Don’t leave marks, Logan. I’m about to go.”

“Hm,” He hums against your shoulder as he ponders for a moment. “I know you only wear thongs with leggings,” He murmurs, pulling away to look at your face as you stand with an easy smile on your lips, arms still folded casually across your middle. “And you like to be fully covered when you wear a skirt, so it’s gotta be a pair of the lace ones.”

He’s right, but you don’t tell him, you simply shrug. The way your right eyebrow twitched in an involuntary, impressed response tells him he’s in the right ballpark, however, and he moistens his lips at the thought of your lace panties.

They fall right above your ass cheeks and are just see through enough to smell you, but very classy when they are the only thing you wear in the bedroom. Cute enough to still make you feel covered when you wear a dress or skirt. “Is it the blue ones?” He asks and you smirk as you shake your head.

“Nope, I wore those yesterday.” You said smugly and he chuckles. “Or did you forget?”

Logan gently smacks his forehead with his palm. “That’s right, I took those off you last night.” He winks and you roll your eyes, blushing at the reminder of last night. “Hm, is it the red pair?” He asks as he dips his head down and kisses the other side of your neck softly.

“No,” You murmur, your eyes closing as his tongue circles around the end of your jaw and then trails down your neck slowly. “One more guess.” You whisper, moistening your lips as you feel him grow hard against your hip.

Logan can feel your body giving into him, your hands press softly against his abdomen as he continues kissing and licking you slowly, riling you up as he lightly sucks on your skin. Slowly, as quietly as possible, he unsheathes one claw and kisses you gently as he carefully glides it along your thigh. You shudder at the feeling of the cool metal and Logan glances down and in the reflection of his blade he sees your dark green lace panties snug between your thighs. “Green.” He smirks, retracting the claw as he looks down at you with a pleased look.

“You cheated.” You smile as he lifts your black leather skirt up anyway, already kneeling down in front of you.

“You could’ve stopped me.” He retorts, lifting one of your legs, hooking your knee on his hand, and pressing his nose against your covered pussy. The action makes you moan softly, your eyebrows scrunched together as you feel your core clench for him. “Just let me kiss it?” He begs, large hands sliding up your thighs and you nod. Logan smiles as he lifts your thigh over his shoulder, kissing the inside of your leg softly as you grab onto the edge of the island behind you. “You smell so good, baby.” He sighs, pulling your panties down your legs and stuffing them in his back pocket. His lips circle around your clit and you stifle a whimper as he lightly sucks and then presses a kiss to your bud. You can feel the arousal dripping out of you and Logan continues after you don’t stop him. His tongue glides up and down between your folds, licking slow and teasingly, taking his time to taste all of you.

“Oh, Logan,” You sigh, your head falling backward slightly as he continues making out with your cunt. “Baby, you gotta stop.” You gasp as his tongue is swirling into your core and you become aware that you are still in the kitchen.

Logan moans in protest, suddenly and easily lifting you up to sit on the edge of the island and you lay back, holding yourself up on your elbows as he devours you on the counter like a meal. “Fucking delicious,” He growls into your pussy and you whimper at the feeling of two fingers entering you. “Wanna taste your cum, baby.” He says and you shake your head.

“Logan, n - not out here!” You stammer, one of your hands grabs a fistful of his hair while he is holding firmly onto your ass.

“You’re so close, baby, c’mon.” He groans, lapping sloppily at your cunt and you feel that familiar tension in your lower belly. Your legs tremble and you give out, succumbing to the wave of pleasure washing over you. Logan growls in approval, unbelievably turned on by having made you cum in the kitchen where anyone could’ve walked in and seen him devouring your very soul.

“Fuck, Logan,” You breathed out, watching him lick his lips and suck his fingers off with a blush on your cheeks. “Get off me.” You laugh lightly, trembling still as he is kissing your thighs and rubbing your hips.

“Stay home tonight, baby,” Logan tells you, sliding you towards him as you sit up so he can kiss you. You hum against his lips, lacing your fingers through his hair as you sigh. “I did win our little bet.”

“By cheating.” You smirk against his kiss.

“Still,” He says, wrapping your legs around his waist so he can carry you to your shared bedroom. “I told you I’d get it right, didn’t say how.”

I really enjoyed writing this one! Thank for your request, kind reader💕

[softspiderling]

chaotic (and a little silly) pogue reader who never fails to surprise rafe with her dumbass hot takes, even like a year into the relationship.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

sometimes you get extremely specific cravings and immediately have to get them. you wake up fairly early in the morning, rafe's arms around your waist, pressed into your back, his breath tickling your neck as he sleeps.

"rafe"

no reaction.

"rafe."

you pinch his bicep and he groans, burrowing even deeper into your side.

"sleeping. 's too early."

"i'm hungry"

"let me sleep in and i'll buy you anything you want for breakfast.... later."

“i don’t need you to buy me anything,” you insist, wriggling in his arms, “i just need you to let go of me so i can get out of bed and get some soup.”

rafe groans again, not loosening his grip around you and you start to think that he fell asleep again, before he lets go of you, huffing and puffing. you press a kiss to his cheek, before you get out of bed.

“can’t even sleep in peace” you hear rafe mutter as you pad to the bathroom to go do your morning business, before heading to the kitchen downstairs.

it doesn’t take long for rafe to get up again, not having been able to get back to sleep now that you’re gone. he’s also not sure if he heard you correctly, wanting soup for breakfast, but figures that he probably dreamt it. after taking a piss and brushing his teeth, he goes downstairs, hearing you tinkering in the kitchen. you’re sitting on the counter, knees up to your chest as you are eating out of your bowl.

“morning baby,” he sighs, kissing your head with a smack and going to make himself a coffee.

“morning grumpy”

rafe rolls his eyes, turning the espresso machine on, before he pauses, turning back to you.

“… did you say you wanted soup for breakfast?”

“I did,” you answer, pouring some more cereal out of the box into your bowl. “i am.”

rafe stares at you, a little slow. he hasn’t had his coffee yet. “what?”

“cereal… breakfast soup.” you continue on, unperturbed, as if you just haven’t said the most insane thing rafe’s ever heard.

“you’re eating cereal,” rafe repeats. “cereal’s not soup”

you lift your head, a frown on your forehead. “cereal is soup. it’s a liquid dish and you eat it with a spoon”

rafe blinks, because you’re definitely not right, but somehow you’re also not wrong, and he’s not quite sure what to say, so he just sighs and turns back to his espresso machine. as the ground coffee falls into the portafilter, he runs a hand over his head, turning to you over with shoulder with narrowed eyes.

“you should hang out less with jj, i feel like he’s starting to rub off on you, and i’m not sure if i like that.”

you only snort into your soup.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[dadsbongos]

virgins can have kinks too!

4.1 k words / summary - multi-chap posts of me experimenting with smut writing

warnings - piv, unprotected sex + creampies, virgin shiggy, college au, porn with minimal plot, partially clothed sex, BRIEF suicide joke, fem reader, 18+ mndi

~~~

If Tomura could go back and change any one thing in his life, it'd probably be how you two met.

Touya is messy enough to live with, now Tomura was forced to account for all the dirt-clodded shoes and unwashed hands of strangers coming into contact with his possessions. Those first hinting throbs of a headache were beginning to tease at Tomura’s pterion, and unfortunately his only access to water was blocked off by a thick weld of moist, musty athletes. Not that they intimidated Tomura, of course, they were just… an optional pain that he’d rather avoid. All their clunky terminology went over his head, and in his experience the people that Touya invites to his parties are not the inclusive type. What Tomura did understand was that they were perfectly posted up against their kitchen sink so as to be as inconvenient as possible; intending to verbally batter whatever unfortunate girl tried snagging from the fridge.

To be fair to them, though, tap water was Tomura’s backup plan. His initial objective was to sneakily steal a plastic bottle before returning to his room. All those were gone, which is sooo funny to Tomura because he’s certain that he just bought a forty pack yesterday.

Yet if Tomura were to point that out, Touya would just shift blame back onto his recluse roommate for knowingly leaving out water when he was inviting people over. So he doesn’t bother finding the stupid punk.

Similarly, he doesn’t so much as attempt either bathroom sink for water. One being annoyingly split off between the kitchen and Tomura’s room, and the other in Touya’s room. Touya’s room was a self imposed no-no for Tomura during their day-to-day, so he can’t fathom a reason to enter during the degenerate’s party. Judging by occasional thumps and ever shifting shadows beneath the gap, Tomura assumes the shared bath is in no better shape.

Right as he sets to retreat, his eyes zoom across their open floor plan -- all the way into the living room, honing in on two girls. One familiar from their shared mythology class, and the other entirely foreign. Himiko Toga is curled around the shoulders of the second girl, twirling strands of mystery girl’s hair with her long fingers.

Himiko greedily consumes all things cute, she chews them up and keeps them between her teeth to amalgamate with the next adorable target her sights set on. By the end of her life, she’ll probably puke up a cat-eared ball of pink glitter tied up with bows and proudly proclaim it to be her life’s work.

Currently, he’s watching Himiko chow down on someone that he, surprisingly, also finds cute. It's distracting.

Himiko lowers her hands until both arms are wrapped around your waist, nails burrowing into the material of your shirt. Her cheek presses against your shoulder, loose strands of blonde hair tickling up your neck.

Your neck strangely captured Tomura, then. Thick with your pulse and tissue, he wants to feel it pillow under his teeth. His lips are rough and chapped and suddenly all he can think about is how they’d feel scarring up the soft flesh of your jugular.

Himiko must be thinking that too because he watches as she turns cheek and digs her nose into the juncture of your neck.

Oh.

Tomura blinks himself free of the stupor and shakes out his hands, then wiping them dry against his pants. He didn’t think Himiko could actually hold down a relationship.

“Whatcha starin’ at, boss?”

Voice so raggedy and low, almost a staticky purr at Tomura’s back, he can instantaneously pick out who it is.

“Did you know Himiko had a girlfriend?”

“Huh?” Touya steps forward, eyes narrowed out into the crowd, “Where? I can’t see shit.”

“I told you to just get contacts, moron,” Tomura grumbles, then pointing as inconspicuous as he can (not very at all) towards their mutual friend still slithered around the unknown girl.

“Kid, that’s not her girlfriend.”

Tomura looks up at Touya, glaring through tangled, powder blue bangs, “You’re joking, right? I’m not stupid.”

“Seriously, it’s not,” Touya snickers, “Why? You interested?” when Tomura can only silently seethe up at the man, Touya grins: a sight more disturbing than reassuring, his teeth are too big and prominent, the bags under his eyes crinkle up weirdly, and it reeks of selfish glee. Touya jams out his index and middle fingers, waggling the index first, “Which one? Blondie?” then his middle, “Or new girl?”

“I don’t want to talk about this with you,” Tomura knocks down the man’s hand with a disgruntled scoff, “You’re mental.”

“We’ve been friends awhile now, no?” Touya stubbornly returns to pointing, “I’ve never seen you get worked up over a girl, it’s funny. So, which one?”

“It’s funny?”

“I’ll set you up.”

Admitting to the fact he’s got a beating heart and libido is so embarrassing, which leads to Tomura halfheartedly muttering, “If I had a thing for Himiko, I wouldn’t have told you first.”

“You’re cute,” Touya quips, reaching up to pinch Tomura’s cheek between black-painted nails -- pointedly ignoring the annoyed huff and swat resulting. He steps around Tomura to venture through the jungle of his guests, “I’m on it.”

Touya is one of the best, and worst, people that Tomura has ever met. Touya is bothersome and rude and sometimes downright narcissistic, but also headstrong. Touya decided the day his dad bought him this house that he wanted to room with the dork from his freshman year geography lecture. Touya decided that Tomura and him were best friends when Tomura helped him pass their aforementioned geography class. Touya decided last year that the pair should bleach their hair together for a laugh. Touya decided just now to be Tomura’s wingman.

His singlemindedness pairs almost lethally well with his sense of loyalty. It almost made Touya seem… admirable.

Tomura internally gags over the thought, quickly refocusing on real life where Touya is leading Himiko (who is leading her mystery friend via deathgrip on your hand) back towards the kitchen.

Himiko giggles upon seeing Tomura, “You thought we were dating?”

Nevermind. Touya is just as insufferable as he was three years ago badgering Tomura for his lecture notes.

“Be nice. You’re so touchy, I’m sure everyone thought we’re together,” mystery girl squeezes Himiko’s hand, then smiling over at Tomura, “But I’m totally single.”

Oh.

Touya’s the most direct, masterminded person Tomura’s ever met.

All that masterminding goes to utter waste if Tomura can’t wake up and relearn social cues, though. Touya jabs an elbow into Tomura’s gaunt side, ribs aching from the blow.

“Okay,” Tomura nods dumbly, swallowing the unease trapped in his throat and once again drying his hands against his sweatpants.

“If you couldn’t tell,” Touya yanks Himiko into his side and out of your hold, “So is he.”

Himiko whines and reaches out as Touya drags her off, the pair slinking somewhere deep into the crowd of thrashing, bumbling bodies.

“You don’t look much like the party type,” you hum, maybe a little unhelpfully. Tried and true method of flirting, however, is being just a tad mean. A less fluffy version of the tragic come here often? line is sure to crack this man’s icy exterior.

“My roommate,” Tomura flings a thumb over in the direction Himiko was hauled off, “He’s the delinquent, I just share the space,” suddenly the insides of his sweatpants are too hot, and so is the flimsy white shirt on his chest, “I just wanted water.”

Sweltering air beats from the center of his chest down to his ankles, even tickling up his neck. The longer you stare at him, the hotter his body feels. Scorching up his face too, burning away layers of dried, ungroomed skin to reveal every muscle twinge. Tomura wants to both comb his hair back and hide behind the strands (most of all, though, he wishes he’d bothered brushing it whatsoever before making his venture). Being so trapped between either option makes his brain short circuit until he’s, rather bashfully, tucking hair behind his ear like some blushing ingenue.

Thankfully you don’t appear troubled by the sight, instead grinning wider and even laughing at his admission (Tomura likes your smile: lips giving prominence to flattering teeth, balls of your cheeks plumping, and lashes fluttering. Definitely more lovely than Touya’s). You fold your arms, “Poor thing. You probably don’t wanna be stuck out here, huh?”

Insecurity visibly crawls along the downward twitch of your lips, your brows furrowing. Tomura stares at you, committing each divot and angle of your body to memory. By the time he’s finished, he realizes you’re waiting for him to respond.

“Yeah…” he mutters lamely, scratching at the crackled film of skin over his chelidon, then smoothing a thumb into the depression as his heart hammers up his throat -- pressing a disarray of words against his palate. They linger by his uvula, gagging him into stunned silence, until he can finally choke out an uneven, “Do you wanna go back to my room?”

As soon as the question was in the air, buzzing unattended between your faces, Tomura wanted to claw out his eyeballs. Maybe rip out his tongue, too. Such gore would surely erase any memories of his implying he thought he had a chance with you. That was far preferable to the disgust about to cross your face.

Except, that disgust never comes.

Alternatively, you nod, “Sounds fun!”

Tomura kept his area tidy enough. A stack of bowls, two cups, three empty Dr. Pepper cans, and a single Maruchan ramen cup on his desk. A lump of clothes he’s procrastinated washing carefully lines the edge of his bed. But that was all, really.

He wanted his room to be livable, and if he felt so childish as to be proud of it then he liked the sight of his uncluttered carpet. How easily he could make the trek from bed to computer to door (and, of course, the desultory detours to his bookcase or closet) without tripping on trash or abundantly strewn clothes. If he felt further inclined to childishness, Tomura even congratulated himself on maintaining a room cleaner than Touya’s.

Even despite the stacked bowls and cups on his desk and emptied soda bottles cluttering his desk legs.

None of that is sufficient anymore. He’s inspecting your face like it’ll burst open with an alien race for any sign of judgment. Cautiously, Tomura kicks a tangle of loose shirts under his bed while you’re distracted ogling his decorated shelves.

“You like Omori?” your question startles him from kicking a pair of boxers under his bed.

“Huh?”

You’re pointing at a lineup of four acrylic stands -- not the complete set, Tomura only burdened his wallet with purchasing the main party over including Basil and Mari -- on the top shelf of his bookcase, “Omori, right? I didn’t think you’d like that type of game.”

“Do I not look like I would?” he doesn’t know why that inference hurts his feelings. Shamefully, he cards his fingers through his knotted hair, slotting more locks behind his ear, “I played it a long time ago. Now I’m too busy for anything else story-driven, so I’m mostly on League. Or Overwatch if I feel like killing myself.”

“You don’t look like you like suffering, I guess is what I meant,” you draw your bottom lip up between your teeth (he hopes it doesn’t sting, he wants to kiss it better if it does), “But knowing you play Overwatch…”

“I try to avoid it,” Tomura prays his self-grooming is subtle, or at least lowkey enough for you to not notice as you continue browsing his various knick knacks and figures, “You game?”

“Eh, RPGs usually. I don’t like working with others when I play, it makes me nervous to screw up.”

“That’s cute,” he doesn’t mean to say it aloud, honestly. Two measly words small enough to slip through his pursed lips. Two words big enough to ruin his night.

“Think so?” but you’re… smiling again.

“I guess,” Tomura’s eyes shift quickly over to his pillows. Are they soft enough? Should he flip them over? What the hell is fluffing, and does it actually do anything?

“Are you usually this shy? Or am I special?”

Not often does Tomura feel truly helpless, but your incessant teasing pairs lethally with your fluttering lashes and painted lips. He wishes he were more accustomed to conversing with strangers, especially pretty strangers that were interested in him. Part of him wants to believe that if you’re attracted to him now, you’ll be stubborn enough to stick out whatever cluelessness he bumbles out -- but he doesn’t. He simply cannot bring himself to buy that.

“You’re making me nervous, like I’m about to puke.”

“Flattering,” you join Tomura on his bed, soft knee nudging his, “I hope you don’t. It’d kinda ruin the mood.”

He’s terribly unable to keep the casanova impersonation up, though, “What mood?”

You throw your head back and laugh. Hearty and full and so mortifying for him, worse are your next words, “You know why people go into private rooms at parties, right?”

“Uhh…”

“You do. I do, too. That’s why I came back here, you know? If you only wanna talk, that’s fine -- you’re fun to just talk to! But I came back here ‘cuz I want to have sex with you, if you want to, too.”

Tomura can feel that dreaded heartbeat climbing up his chest and into his gullet again.

“You’re forward…”

You shrug, “I know what I want.”

Tomura claws at his sweatpants, chest aching and fingers numb from how your eyes are zeroed on him. He nods slowly, racketing another giggle from your chest -- you lean closer, your hand brushes his.

“Yeah?” you coax a hand around Tomura’s far shoulder, swiveling him to face you.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan gurgles the sound of his reply, you hate it.

From the shape of his lips, you can make out his agreement. With no specific intent and only a general sense of lust to guide him, Tomura leans into your touch. Snatching his hands, you shuffle his palms under your shirt, sifting the flesh up your warm belly until they’re cupping your tits. He squeezes blindly, teetering closer along his mattress. Finally, you strip off your top -- then greedily going for Tomura’s as well. He contently allows it, even lifting his arms to grant the removal.

“You’re so pretty,” Tomura noses at your neck, hot puffs of air warming your skin, “Can’t believe you’re actually here.”

His hands are soft from a lax life, if slightly clammy with nerves, and they feel nice squeezing around your hips. Tomura dips his pelvis downward, keeping your thighs scooped snug around him -- bonus for the momentary relief of pressure against his aching groin. His fingers bow beneath the waistband of your skirt until your own are tethering his in place.

“Can I leave the skirt on?” your thighs tighten around Tomura’s slim waist, you tilt your head so your soft lips press against his cheek, “Its kinda hot. To me.”

Tomura rolls his shoulders, whole body shuddering at the request. He nods with clenched eyes, digging his nails into your skin -- he likes your idea more than he can put into words (granted, his tongue may as well be superglued to his teeth right now).

“I can do that,” he manages to scrape out, drawing his fingers down the bunched material of your skirt and up your thighs, “Can I take these off?”

“Please,” you cant your hips up for Tomura to yank off your panties, he bundles them in one hand and stows the other where the material once laid. You swear you hear him whimper at the contact.

His fingers dance up your slit, gentle massaging that intensifies upon introduction of his thumb on your clit. Tomura drops your underwear off the side of his bed and uses the freed palm to work off his sweatpants, but just before he can snap the drawstring -- he stops completely.

“Wait,” he pants, “Hang on. Don’t move.”

Tomura runs out like he’s caught fire, slamming his bedroom door shut behind him and leaving you splayed on his mattress.

He returns with a fist curled around something, and determination written in the lines of his face. Replacing himself between your thighs, Tomura hides the contents in his hand under the pillow beneath you. Before you can shoot any questions, he’s lifting your skirt and lowering his chest to the bed.

As if he can sense the curiosity burning away your mood, Tomura hurriedly buries his face in your cunt.

One gasp is stuttered short by another, Tomura flicks his tongue inside you with a groan. Pulling back only to spit on your clit, the liquid bubbling down your slit until it catches on his prodding fingertips -- your thighs jolt around his shoulders at the act. Middle finger worming into you with ease, Tomura’s burdened by the vestige of Touya’s hand on his shoulder and husks into his ear.

Yeah, condoms are in the top drawer. You need advice?

He’d been uneasy initially, nodding uncertainly, but Tomura’s grateful now.

Just as he’d been instructed, Tomura curls his middle finger and screws the pad up until- your knee knocks into his skull and he keens at the rough treatment.

“S-sorry,” you stammer out, chest arching up.

Bypassing your apology, Tomura flattens his tongue on your clit and slithers a second finger inside you. Surely by tomorrow, his arm will be sore with the work he’s pushing through, but he’s equally sure it’s worth it as you clamp around him and seize.

Strumming your gspot in time with your clit, Tomura loses himself in the thought of how your snatch would feel around his cock -- grinding against the marshmallow mattress below to relieve the pressure. Your only relief is how he greedily sucks your clit; he lets you grab his hair with both hands and roughly tug him to and fro. He lets you fuck his face, eats it up in earnest.

Prying your thighs back from his ears, Tomura shoves his sweatpants down and reaches under your head. Pulling back a foil square that crinkles with each nervous shake of his hand. Tomura’s plain black boxers soon crash to the floor as well.

“Hey,” your voice pipes up meekly, a little slurred after your orgasm. Drowsy eyes half-lidded and even sweeter on him, “Can you, uh…”

Tomura’s burning hot, flushed and vaguely sticky; bangs slickened against his face with sweat and cum. His breathlessness axiomatic of how little composure he could maintain, “What?”

“Don’t…” a shyness that now seems bizarre overtakes you, your fingers curl into his palm and unfurl the condom from his grasp, “You shouldn’t… I wanna feel you.”

He blinks down at you vapidly. So stupidly blank he's immediately ashamed of himself for blanching at your plea.

“You want it too, right?” you reach up and paw at Tomura's shoulders, “You wanna fuck me raw?”

“Uh-huh,” again dumb.

Tomura spares that response no reconsideration, instead preoccupied by holding your thighs open to nudge his cock into you. His tip bobs at your clit in the first few jerks, but his thinly construed patience is rewarded on the third attempt. You tug on his hair as Tomura humps into your sex.

He whines upon feeling that first squeeze and suck of entering your cunt, his pelvis itching up against your clit with every thrust. Blunt nails carve into the fat of your thighs, pulling you impossibly closer -- Tomura’s cock carves deep into your gut, hot and heavy. Chapped lips sear up the length of your neck, his chest squashing against yours, he teeths at the lump of your pulse and lathes the thumping point with his tongue. Budding his knees right beneath your ass, Tomura burdens the tops of his thighs against yours. Then wrapping your waist with both arms, continuing to suck your soft skin between his teeth.

Tomura gasps as the warmth of your hands finds his back, rolling lower and lower until you’re actively pushing him closer. He likes this -- loves it, even. He’s horrified to know he could’ve been having sex his entire college career and simply didn’t.

He’s further horrified that perhaps he’ll never have sex again when you leave (but mostly, he’s finding that he just doesn’t want you to leave).

“Be my girlfriend,” delirious, he’s babbling into your ear, whining and shuttering and smothering your body with his, “Be my girlfriend…! Wanna fuck you every day-- need you every day. So fucking warm and soft, all perfect for my cock,” Tomura pulls up from your neck to kiss the thin stretch of skin over your collarbones and treading to your breasts, “Like you’re made for taking it.”

What you want is to have the mental cognition to respond to him kindly, but what you have is a mushy brain and a flourishing climax scorching through your body. Grey matter melting into the bowl of your skull as Tomura kisses and pants into your tits.

“Tomu’-!” is all you can manage to squeal, nails digging jagged red lines down the man’s back.

“You cumming?” he reaches between your bodies to incise the pads of his fingers across your sodden clit.

A final push into your sensitive body, the attention spiking your head back into his pillow. Faintly, through the rush of dopamine pumping through your extremities to where your hanging mouth is expelling wanton wails of Tomu’! and yes, God! and cumming!, you can hear Tomura. You can hear him chuckling low and deep with ecstasy, “So pretty when you cum. Squeezing me so tight, too. You like me that much?”

He whines unexpectedly, wrenching both hands to your hips and branding the imprint of his calloused palms there.

“You’re gonna make me cum,” he grits his teeth, scratchy throat puking up pulpy, disjointed moans of your name and fuck, fuck fucks, “I’m gonna cum,” he latches onto your tit, muffling his pathetic mewls as your legs lock him in your cunt (trembly and weak as they may be), “Cumming, cumming- ! Fuck!”

Stilling above you, Tomura chokes out soft breaths and murmurs of appreciation as he cums. Sincerely thanking you as his spend paints your insides. Collapsing on you once his balls are empty. Tomura barely has the wherewithal to roll onto his side in order to avoid overheating you under him.

A rattle and hum from his ceiling fan regains your attention, but this time it doesn’t seem too bad. You can’t find yourself to be very annoyed, even when the music pumping from outside vibrates Tomura’s bedroom door. Above those sounds, the one you appreciate most is the soft pelting of Tomura’s breath against your neck; damp with a mixture of sweat and his saliva, and sore from his incessant teething.

“Did you mean it?” you’re probably being mean, asking such a layered question so immediately after his release.

“About?” his voice is raggedy, sharp to a bladepoint -- if you couldn’t see the dazed, awestruck film over his lidded eyes, you’d mistake him as trying to be rude.

“Me being your girlfriend. Did you actually mean that? Or did your dick have the braincell?”

“Oh,” Tomura pushes onto his elbows, arms shaking, his hair drops over his face and this time you’re the one to brush it behind his ear. Despite cumming in you minutes ago, he blushes at the gesture and looks at your bruising neck rather than your eyes, “I guess. I don’t have a car, so I can’t drive you around for dates.”

“I can take the bus, you know,” you laugh at how Tomura’s face suddenly sours at your words.

“As if I’d let my girlfriend take the bus by herself. Do you know how many freaks go on that thing?”

“‘Cuz you’d know.”

“Yeah, I’m one of them,” the giddiness rising in his chest over your giggling at his jab quickly overtakes his face, cheeks burning with a proud smile. Tomura hides his face in your neck, “I guess it’s up to you.”

“It's up to me if you were serious or not?”

Quietly, he hums, then rasps out something you could construe as a joke if you didn’t care so much about how he felt, “I only open to begging in the sheets. Being desperate to date the first girl I fuck is so pathetic.”

Which is so insane to you because you met this man only a few hours ago.

A broiling affection that builds between the slats of your ribs, bricking off your lungs and heart just to cook them up hot and gooey and primed for the man on your chest. At least Tomura’s burgeoning crush could be reasoned away with the fact he’s a recent ex-virgin (not like you, with visitors running rarer than Tanzanite).

Still fluttery and alight with the wash of your orgasm, you give your heart the braincell and nod sluggishly, “Yeah. I want you to be serious.”

Decidedly, you spare no mind how you two barely know each other.

[clandestineloki]

strawberry bliss (nsfw)

the part 2 to strawberry sweet ❤️

summary: miguel loves using his strength on you ;)) and this little snippet of you guys watching a replay of his recent game shows just that, with some sweet lil fluff and playful banter :)) and then miguel fucks u so good he hits your factory reset and you go back to being a lil shy babie around him oh no :3

tw: he also finds out you have a daddy kink, mention of shane dawson (derogatory), mention of physical violence (bros a wrestler what did you expect), overstimulation, a bit of breeding kink, heavy praise kink, a bit of humiliation but on the sweet side

A/N: this takes place about a year or so after strawberry sweet, where miguel and reader are in an established relationship and make quippy cute banter with each other

A/N # 2: pls reblog so we can turn more ppl into whores 💖

💕 hope you enjoy! 

===

"BABYY THE COMMERCIALS ARE OVER!"

Miguel runs from the bathroom and meets you in the kitchen, you with the tray of strawberry drinks squealing as he tickles your waist.

"AHH IT'S GONNA SPILL!!!" you scream, and he backs off, smiling as you regain your balance.

You balance the smoothie cups on the tray and move forward, but Miguel blocks your way. 

"M'scuse me, I have a game to watch," you pout up at him, but he doesn't budge.

"Mister, my boyfriend will be very angry if he finds out I'm late to the game >:( "

"Aww, such a shame, pretty girl... can't I just get a little kiss?"

"Let me through!"

"Can't, hermosa, you gotta say the password right up against my lips~ the password is mwah mwah mwah i love you miguel you're so handsome miguel~"

"You're cheesy," you roll your eyes, and he laughs as you set the tray down in front of the bed facing the TV. "I want the old Miguel back, he was cute and he had actual rizz."

He slumps against the couch. "The Miguel that was a total pervert over your old smoothie girl uniform?"

"Oh my gosh, I totally forgot about the uniform!" You giggle. "I hated it. Did you know on my first day they gave me a size too small and they had the audacity to try and gaslight me by saying I got fat?"

"Fucking weirdos," he pulled you into his arms, your back against his chest." Glad I got you out of that mess, mm?"

"It was just one mess into another, Mig, you made me your sugar baby," you tease, and his face scrunches up.

"Bebita, I may be rich but I'm not your sugar daddy. I'm just two years older than you."

"But think about it, I was sixteen when you were eighteen! Like- that's two years but the maturity difference is huge! That's creepy, Miguel. You wanna go to jail?"

"Ay, por dios. We're in our twenties, we met in our twenties. End of discussion. And I've already been to jail. Twice."

"What?!"

"Ay! ay! end of discussion. The match is starting," he pinches your nose then turns to watch the TV just as the host's opening spiel ends. Miguel feels you sit up in his grip when the crowds on the TV cheer as he comes up on screen, flashing a grin to the audience.

"Ew, who's that?" you mumble, cheeks stuffed with popcorn and Miguel snorts, rolling his eyes.

"That's me, your boyfriend, the guy who's gonna absolutely obliterate downgraded Shane Dawson in about..." he snaps his fingers just as his opponent comes out on screen. "Fifty-eight seconds."

"I really don't see the resemblance, Miggy, you're just being a bully."

"Y'know," he pulls you closer, absentmindedly kissing your neck as he feels you squirm in his hold. "I don't get how you let the physical violence slide but I compare some white guy to Shane Dawson and you call me a bully."

Your face heats up a little, and you turn away, mumbling shyly. "C-cause you look really badass when you throw them around like that... "

"Mmm?" he teases, nuzzling his nose in your neck. "I do?"

He feels you freeze up and chuckles, his hands trailing down to your thighs.

"Y-yeah," you whisper... "a bit..."

"Oh, and you like how strong I am, hmm? Is that what it is?"

It's cute how you shake your head and brush his hands away to turn up the volume on the TV, when he just goes right back to kneading your breasts and riling you up.

"Querida, you gotta answer me, y'know I can't understand you when you mumble like that~"

"What was the question?" you mumble, looking up at him with what he knows for sure are the most adorable bunny eyes he's ever fucking seen.

"I said," he nibbles down on your ear with a little growl, "do you get off like a cute little bunny when I show off? Is my baby that kinky~?"

" I-I... maybe..." you twitch as his fingers toy with your nipples. "Miggy, please..."

"Please what baby? Please stop or please give me more?" 

Miguel knows the answer, obviously. It's just that he can't get over the fact that he landed the prettiest girl with the cutest stutter when she's nervous.

"Please..." you whisper.

He chuckles against your ear, leaning in and lowering his voice just the way he knows you like it, especially when he's buried all the way inside you.

"Please what."

The tiniest gasp comes out of your lips. "Please... please f-fuck me... please?" 

Before you can even finish, you're over his shoulder and on the bed as he kisses everywhere on your face, growling at the inconvenience of the fact that he cant hold you still and fondle your chest at the same time.

"M-Miguel..." you whimper, twitching in sensitivity. "You're always teasing me..."

"Oh?" he mocks you, flipping you over on your stomach and gripping your hips, leaning in real slow to drawl darkly in your ear. "I'm the tease here? When you're shaking your little ass all over me? You rile me up like this and expect me not to fuck you the way you deserve? hmm?"

"S-Sorry..." you mumble, and Miguel laughs breathily, having the time of his life making you all shy and embarrassed.

"S'okay, baby, you just gotta make up for it, yeah?"

With a playful swat to your ass, he rips off your shorts and his fingers tease your folds through your panties.

"Miguel..."

"Yes...?" he kisses the arch in your back, smirking when your thighs tremble.

"Please hurry..." you gasp.

"Don't worry baby, you'll be asking me to slow down real soon~" 

===

His favorite sight of all time is you underneath him, with that blissed out look on your face and your chest heaving as he fucks every choked breath out of those pretty lips.

"Fuck, bebita," he whispers. "Creaming all over my fingers like the cute little plaything you are?"

You whimper, closing your thighs shakily, but his free hand just forces your legs apart and he curls his two fingers in you, tickling your pussy and making his hand even wetter.

"Hmm? What did you say?" Miguel mumbles close to your ear, and makes sure that at the precise moment you try to speak he speeds up his fingers, making your words melt away in warm red pleasure as more juices coat his fingers.

"S'too much..."

"Bebita, you asked for this," he whispers darkly. "We're not even halfway done."

You mewl out his name and turn your head to the side. He takes it as an opportunity to bite down on your neck and relish in the high-pitched pleasure drunk squeal that forces out of you as your little pussy sucks in his fingers.

"Shit. I can't take it anymore," he grumbles, his fingers moving even faster as he leans closer, forcing you flat against the bedsheets as you moan and cream all over his fingers like a cute little bunny, just too pleasure-drunk to utter even a word.

"Come for me baby," Miguel almost begs. "Come for me so I can fuck you the way I know you want me too, okay?"

You gasp at his dirty talk, and he laughs at the fact that you never stop getting shy when he says these things.

Or when your little pussy makes those wet noises when you're really really close.

"Fuck you're so cute," Miguel grins, licking the tears falling from your hazy eyes. "So sweet, letting me do whatever I want with you~ Come for me, gatita, you know you want to~"

Your moans make him grin and he thumbs at your sensitive little bud. His teasing sends you over the edge and you gasp and whimper, clinging onto him as he helps you through your third orgasm.

When you come down from it, Miguel is smirking down at you, and licking his fingers clean of your juices, humming lowly as his tongue traces his long fingers sensually.

"Wanna taste it right off your pretty pussy baby," he whispers, making you blush. "But I'll save that for later~"

He really means he'll save it for when you're too fucked out to close your pretty legs around his head.

Miguel kisses your hips as he flips you over again, tracing his rough hands over your ass and thighs, making you shiver and mumble something he almost can't hear.

"Daddy..."

His wandering hands freeze.

He grins.

"What was that?" he teases.

Your breath stutters.

"What- I-"

He leans in dangerously close, pinning you down on the bed with your ass right against his throbbing hard cock.

"What did you just call me?" he drawls, and you whimper.

"I-I called you Daddy," you bury your head in the pillows. "S-Sorry... if it makes you uncomfortable-"

Miguel thrusts his hips forward, sinking halfway into your wet, warm little cunt. The squelching of your little hole is nothing compared to the pure, unadulterated, sinful noise of pleasure that leaves your lips.

"Oh," Miguel groans. "That made me reallyfuckin' uncomfortable alright."

Your thighs shake as he sinks in really really slowly, making sure you feel every inch of him stretch you out.

"Say it again."

You gasp, tears forming in your eyes. "It's embarrassing..."

"Fuck, you really have to do all these things that make you so lovable, huh?" He groans, pulling your wrists and holding your arms behind your back. "Got the cutest little face, the cutest little pussy, and you always got these little kinks that make you so cute~"

He starts moving his hips, making you slur out his name and clench around him.

"My cute little milkshake girl, doing all these cute things for me and no one else," he whispers, and you nod helplessly,

Miguel runs his hands up and down your waist, making you sigh and whimper into the pillows.

"Wanna repeat what you said? No one's around, baby, just you and me. No need to be shy~"

"Daddy..."

"Fuck, you really are such the perfect little cutie, aren't you?" Miguel teases, pounding you harder.

It's music to his ears when you finally get to that stage of it, just uncontrollably whimpering and moaning and making all these noises of pleasure as you let him do whatever he wants to you.

"C'mon, say it again, another time won't hurt~"

"Such a t-tease..." you whine, and he chuckles fondly, pressing a kiss to your sensitive neck.

"Sorry, baby, not my fault you're so fucking adorable," he groans, shuddering when you clench down on him. "Daddy's close, baby, wanna come with me? Feel good together, hmm? Can you even understand me you dumb little baby?"

Miguel coos as you take in high-pitched breaths and gasps. Your tiny fists clench the sheets shakily, and your thighs thump helplessly with every thrust of his hips.

"Come back to me, baby," he whispers as his thrusts get sloppier. "Help me out one list time, kay? Wanna be my good girl?"

"Mhm..."

"Ah," he laughs. "Daddy broke his pretty baby so bad? Sorry, gatita, you just feel too good. Let's come together, okay? I'll get us there, baby~"

You whimper loudly one last time, creaming helplessly around his cock. Miguel pins your back down onto the bed, leaning in and growling right against your ear as his orgasm takes over as well, making sure you take every bit of his cum inside you.

The twitching of your thighs finally slows as Miguel pulls out, turning you onto your back and lightly running his hands up your thighs, waist, and breasts, kneading them softly and eliciting a whine from your lips.

"So sensitive," he pinches your nipple, making you gasp. "But I'll keep my hands to myself... for now."

You blush at those words, nuzzling into his neck as he chuckles at your bashfulness.

"Didn't know my good little girl had a Daddy kink. So cute," he whispers. "Got the sweetest little baby all to myself~."

Miguel brushes his lips against yours, smiling when he tastes a hint of strawberry,

His second favorite sweet thing in the goddamn world.

"Oh, baby~" he coos. "You felt so fucking good. Can we go again, gatita?"

You whimper, twitching helplessly, and blushing at the feeling of his fingers toying with the cum trickling down your thighs.

But you don't say no.

[luveline]

hotch x reader with new baby girl, honestly i have no ideas just anything with girl!dad aaron lovey fluff is all i want, he’s just so lovely ily jadey 💕

thank you for requesting! fem, 1.4k

Hotch is so hungry he genuinely wonders if it is acceptable to collapse and beg you to make him a sandwich. He probably would if Jane hadn’t tired you out so fiercely that morning; learning to crawl is hard on both the baby and the mom. 

It’s not his turn to make dinner, but he is, because he doesn’t really care who’s turn it is. He has the tortellini on a low heat, the veggies toasting to a golden brown in the oven. 

He wonders if having a baby isn’t what you thought it would be. It’s certainly not how Hotch imagined it, because Jane is gorgeous and he couldn’t be more in love with her, but she’s also very hard work. Hard work you often perform alone. You don’t seem upset, only tired, and so making dinner is his pleasure. It’s as he’s finishing up that he wonders if he should’ve offered to put Jane down instead. 

He’s trying so, so hard to be the best father and husband that he can be. He might always find it difficult (but it's an effort he’s always willing to make). 

“Dad?” Jack asks. 

“Yeah?” 

“Dinner almost done?” 

Hotch wraps an arm around Jack’s front despite his wriggling. “Almost,” he says into Jack’s hair, “did you wash your hands?” 

“I always wash my hands. Did you wash yours?” 

Hotch laughs. Steals that extra second with his arms around Jack before he pulls away. “Of course I did. I’m gonna go make sure everything’s okay in babyland, okay? And then we’ll fill in your homework diary.” 

Jack nods and goes back to colouring. In babyland, the living room, outfitted with toys and swings and sleepers, you and Jane are slouched on the floor. You’re leaning against the front of the couch with Jane in your lap while she looks up at you. At eight months old she’s more than fond of a cuddle. Her eyes are wide with love and awe alike as you rub the bridge of her nose with your pinky finger, the closer you get to her eyes, the more they squint closed. You repeat the motion over and over again. “You’re feeling sleepy,” you whisper in a funny tone, “you want to nap badly. You’re gonna sleep for a long couple of hours so mommy can have a bath.” 

“Mom can have a bath,” Hotch says. 

You don’t startle, but your surprise is evident in the way your hand slides up her back. “I’m kidding around.” 

“No, it’s okay. You go take a bath, I can have her.” 

“She might not like that.” 

Jane has clingy syndrome. “Does it matter?” he asks sincerely. If she cries, she cries, and he will try his hardest to comfort her. 

You smile slowly, and sweetly. “Okay, I’ll be quick. I don’t want to miss dinner.” 

“Dinner’s ready when you are.” 

Hotch crouches down to begin the transfer. “Hello, little love,” he murmurs, sliding his fingertips carefully behind her back. She’s warm, her onesie soft. “Can dad have a kiss?” 

Jane is a quiet baby. It’s normal that she might not start speaking for a few more months, but beside the occasional ‘bababa’ or giggly laugh, she doesn’t have much to say —not unlike her father. Her communication lays instead in affection. Her emotional intelligence is in the highest percentile, certainly. 

Not that Hotch is prone to bragging. “There’s my smarty,” he hums, pulling her gently into his arms before he stands. She looks at him with equal parts curiosity and annoyance. 

He can guess what she’s thinking. Why is dad picking me up? 

She looks for you with a wobbly lip. 

“It’s okay, it’s okay, can’t dad have some time with you? You’ve favoured your mommy all day.” Hotch brings his free hand to her cheek to stroke it. She loves it, immediately tipping her face into his hand, tickled and huffing as he leans down to kiss her nose. “Please, can I have a kiss?” 

He kisses her cheek. She gives a spitty one back. 

You slink away while she’s distracted and he carries Jane to the kitchen, turning the oven off with one hand, and pushing a chair out with his foot to sit. Jack’s eyes brighten with her arrival, colouring pencils pushed aside. “Hi, Janie.” 

Jack waves at her. She waves back. 

He shifts Jane further into his arms to press lazy kisses over her ear. “My baby,” he murmurs, nearly inaudible against the hum of the washing machine in the utility room and the gentle patter of rain on the windows. “She’s my smart girl. Just like her brother.” He strokes her head back to see her and her baby-lashes. “Hm? You’re my smart girl, aren’t you?” 

She tucks herself into the curve of his neck.

“She knows how to wave already,” Jack says, “when will she be able to say my name?” 

“Pretty soon, bud. Babies tend to learn things in little jumps. She’s making sounds, the babbling she does? That’s a stepping stone. Next she’ll say mama, and then mom, and then we can teach her all sorts of words.” 

“Like crawling to walking.” 

Hotch smiles as Jane leans back against his hand. “Exactly. Jane isn’t the only smarty-pants, huh?” 

Jack smiles in return. “You look happy.” 

“I am happy. So happy, because I’m so lucky to be your dad.” 

“Is it weird?” 

“What?” 

Jack shrugs. “Being a dad.” 

“No, it’s never weird. Sometimes weird stuff happens. Like when we all panicked thinking we couldn’t fine Jane just to realise I was holding her,” —Jack giggles ferociously at the memory— “and, you know, sometimes things get pretty gross.” 

“Like spit up.” 

“Exactly. But being your dad isn’t weird. It feels like the most natural thing in the world. I’m lucky…” He kisses Jane again indulgently. “To have ended up with another child as perfect as the first.” 

“Dad,” Jack says, squirming and pleased at once. 

“What?” Hotch laughs. He has spent a long time proving to Jack that he’s not as serious as he was, a long time trying to keep his promise, and he can see now that it worked. Jack shakes his head and goes back to his colouring as a smile apples his cheeks, not for a moment surprised that his dad loves him without hesitation. 

Hotch beams to himself, absolutely full to the top with love as he lifts Jane up just enough to make her smile too. “Oh, nummy!” he says, taking a big pretend bite of her belly. 

You take a long, long time in the bath. He ends up serving Jack’s plate when his son hints that he’s hungry, and giving Jane another couple of ounces of milk. She grows sleepy on his shoulder. With some soft taps to her spine and a handful of loving shushes, she falls asleep there. 

Sentimental, he thinks, Aw, my girl, and begins to rub her little foot through her onesie. 

You find him standing in the kitchen, hip to the counter. He’s not doing anything besides holding Jane, Jack’s plate abandoned at the table and his cartoons playing from the living room. Hotch should’ve put Jane down for a nap in the bassinet in the living room, freeing his hands to tackle the mess of dishes he’s made preparing dinner, but he honestly hadn’t thought about moving. He’d been perfectly content to hold her and rub her wiggling foot. 

“Sorry I took so long,” you whisper. 

“No, no, you take as long as you need. You look better.” 

You ease between Hotch and the counter, situating yourself in a snug corner to see Jane’s face more clearly. You look at her with love, and then you lean up to kiss his cheek. “I knew you’d get her to nap. You’re amazing.” 

“She likes all the same stuff as you and Jack,” Hotch whispers with a soft laugh.

You pause for a second. Careful, you bring your hand to his cheek, a gentle fist turned with knuckles inward as you stroke his cheek with your index finger. “Can I take a photo of you?” 

“What for?” he asks. 

“I wanna remember it. And it’ll be nice one day to show Jane.” 

“To show her what?” 

“You, Aaron. Show her how much you love her.” You drop your hand to his shoulder for a squeeze. “You’ve gotten even kinder since she was born. Did you notice?” 

It seems you’re feeling sentimental as well tonight. Your long bath has washed away the stress of a longer day. 

“Okay,” he says, too in love with your smile to disagree, “but just one.” 

[c0ffeejelly1]

When you don’t say I love you back.

Multiple characters headcannon

Authors note: this is not spelling checked, grammar checked, punctuation checked so don’t come at me. I’m lazy.

Warnings: NSFW Content (kinda)

“Shit..babe!” He boomed to you across from the empty kitchen cabinet, before closing it to quickly put on some slides.

“I’ve gotta head out to the shop down the road for a quick minute, we’re outta snacks to eat with the movie.”

“Oh okay, see you later then, and don’t worry I won’t start the film without you..”

“You better not. Anyways bye, I love you.”

“Yeah.”

The type to walk back in and question it

He didn’t notice that you didn’t reply to him until he had closed the door behind him. That’s when it came to him.

Immediately after the door shut, he ripped it wide open again a confused and offended look on his face, as he stared down at you on the couch. “Babe.”

You turned to face him, an innocent expression painting your features. “Yeah? You forget something?”

“I think you’re the one forgetting something..” You glance around faking a puzzled look before returning your gaze to him,

“No...I don’t think I did. What are you talking about?” He was now crossing his arms at you, a disappointed look on his face.

“Y/N.” Yikes, he’s going first name bases with you; he was not playing around. It was a little funny to watch him react like this though, because you could see the small pout on his face despite the scowl he was presenting to you.

“Yes handsome?” You say mockingly wanting to see how far you could take this.

“Why didn’t you say it back?”

“Say what back?”

“y’know what I’m talking about.“

“Do I?”

“…”

You better kiss him now that you’ve made him sad.

Characters: MIDORIMA, kagami, giyuu, jean, kageyama, TSUKISHIMA, osamu, Ushijima, NANAMI, geto, LUCIFER, diavolo, todoroki, Iida. (Anyone you like)

The type to not process it until AFTER they’ve bought the snacks

It was while he was tapping his card to the register that he himself also registered-

“Wait a damn minute.”

He’s rushing his ass back home, the distant yell that he dropped his snacks, left unheard from the poor cashier.

When he arrives home though..

“So..” he starts, falling back onto the couch with you. “You know you're the most gorgeous girl I’ve ever met right?” He tries buttering you up a bit in hopes it’ll get you in a ‘good mood’.

“You’re just so SO beautiful, that every time I look at you there are only hearts in my eyes..y’know that right? Right baby?..” you only nod your head trying to stop the smile forming on your face.

“I just.. love you so much y’know?”

“Thank you.”

“Baby, I love you.”

“Yeah, I heard.”

“I. Love. You.”

“Why do you keep repeating that?”

“You’re gonna make me cry.”

You say it back to him once he starts tickling the hell outta you.

Characters: dimple, REIGEN, KISE, rengoku, connie, armin, NISHINOYA, HINATA, OIKAWA, choso, gojo, MAMMON, DENKI. (Anyone you like)

The type to give you a dirty look and repeat it again LOUDER.

“..bitch.”

“Are you not gonna say it back?” Is what he would say to you, but instead he only resorted to giving you a not so…pretty look.

You knew damn well what you were doing. He’s no fool to you and your pranks, but that still didn’t explain the reason why he continued trying to make you say it back.

“Let’s try this again.”

“…” You give him a neutral look, a small smile dying to crack onto your lips.

“Bye, I LOVE you.” He tried emphasising the love part making sure you would get the hint of what he was waiting on.

“Mhm..yeah, now go buy the snacks I’m hungry.” Are you trying to get yourself killed? This is not the type of guy you should be fooling around with this kinda stuff.

“I’m not going anymore” he walks away from the door before striding over to you.

“What? Why? H-hey! What are you doin-” he grips onto your waist before hosting you onto his shoulder.

“Gotta find out why my girls being so stubborn, so what better way than..”

That’s how you ended up here, hands tied behind your back, and a blindfold on, all your senses focused on only him and the distant sound of the TV.

Every time he would say he loved you, If you didn’t reply back to him fast enough the restraints would stay on for an extra minute while he went ahead and watched the movie without you.

“I love you.” Jesus, you could practically feel the devious smirk he had on his face.

“I. Love. You. Too.” You reply with a small hiss through clenched teeth. He only chuckled at your tone giving you a slight pat on your head. “Bet you won’t try this again huh?”

He’s sleeping on the couch.

Characters: AOMINE, SANEMI, eren, UKAI, IWAIZUMI, tendou, ATSUMU, toji, satan, solomon, bakugou. (Anyone you like)

The type to immediately start apologising for no reason

“I’m sorry baby, I’ll never do it again.”

He doesn’t even open the door before he’s on his knees looking up at you for some hint that you weren’t angry at him. “Please say something..”

The reason you obviously couldn’t say anything at that moment was because you just didn’t expect him to go down on his knees and beg for forgiveness for who knows what-

“Look I know this must be about eating the takeout and only leaving the empty bowl behind to make it look as though I didn’t- and this obviously must also be about me stealing your shirt and accidentally using it as a washcloth- or maybe it’s the underwe-”

“OKAY!” You yell putting both your hands in front of his face rendering him confused, “I-I get it! Okay..”

he only cocks his head to the side moments before his face drops when you tell him it was a prank.

“Oh..it is?..”

“Yeah…”

“So you still love me?”

“Very much.”

…

“..wait- what did you do with my underwear?”

He’s gone silent.

He’s getting up.

He’s walking away.

He’s running now.

“Wha- Hey! Come back here!”

“Gotta buy the snacks now, bye!”

This man is NOT as innocent as he looks.

Characters: serizawa, tengen, REINER, kuroo, BOKUTO, LEVIATHAN, Asmodeus. (Anyone you like)