#her nose is pretty long and flat

[nillustre]

facial features headcanons ~

[teddybeartoji]

18+ mdni; fem!reader

knight!suguru is more than glad to drop to his knees for his beloved princess.

his rough hands bunch up the skirt of your dress with haste, his pruple eyes blown wide with lust as you try to grab onto his shoulders for support. your knees feel weak, your body shaking with a mixture of excitement and pure adrenaline – this is improper, you shouldn't be doing this.

but oh, how good does it feel.

how good the knight's fingers feel as they dance on your skin, the tips of them ghosting over the soft material of your soaking undergarments. with his face hidden under your skirt, you can only imagine the hungry look he's wearing as they prepare to eat their heart out after a long, tiring day.

you rest against a bookshelf in the dark library, letting the wooden planks press into your upper back, into your soft skin. candlelight flickers across your flustered face, it being the only audience you could ever possibly allow.

what you're doing is risky, it's dangerous – but neither of you can fight the need any longer.

a quiet gasp echoes through the empty library when suguru presses a gentle kiss your core, his fingers tugging on your underwear. he can feel your legs tremble, he can feel the goosebumps on your skin; just like you imagine his expression, suguru does the same – how dark and low your eyes would be, how swollen your pretty lips. he'll get to see it all later, the masterpiece that is your blissed out face after he're done devouring you.

as his tongue lays flat against your needy cunt, the room gets flooded with hushed mewls; taking a hand from suguru's shoulder, you slot it in front of your mouth but the palm does very little to contain the sounds of pleasure that suffocate you. alongside with those, the noises that emit from under your skirt - your body feels as if its on fire.

suguru's hands knead your thighs – the very same hands that have killed, that have taken lives, are now caressing your skin with the utmost care and tenderness the knight could ever possibly muster up. this is his job afterall – to take care and to proctect, in every way imaginable; whether it's him on his knees as they get a taste of the woman they have swore to protect, or it's him dying at the end of a blade for the woman they love – it's the suguru's desire to serve.

he sucks on your clit, he tongues at your folds, drowning in your scent as he pushes you closer to your high with his skilled mouth. your nails dig into his shoulder, with most of your weight now leant against him as your body threatens to go limp, your brain turning into a mush. cries of suguru's name fall from your lips like a waterfall, with the letters coated with sickly sweet honey that reel him deeper and deeper into her core.

the obscene sounds grow louder by the second with suguru now lapping at your cunt like a starved dog, his good manners long forgotten in his clouded mind. there's a whine on the tip of your tongue, a shy and embarrassed one, but suguru doesn't falter even a bit – instead, he moves to raise your thigh up onto his shoulder, the new angle making your eyes roll back into your head with a loud gasp.

with the other hand, suguru guides you to grind against his face, his nose catching your clit with every roll of your hips and all it takes for you to finally let go, is to hear your beloved knight moan into your sopping cunt.

the back of your head meets the wall behind you with a soft thud and your eyes screw themselves shut as your whole body tenses up; you try to close your legs by pressing your thigh into the suguru's face but it's of no use because he simply digs his fingers deeper into your plush flesh and forces them apart again, so he can keep burying his tongue inside you. suguru can't let any of it go to waste – not the moment, not the saccharine slick that fills his mouth.

you clutch onto your knight as he let you ride out the high, your mumbles of 'thank you's' not going unheard in his keen ears.

before he pull away, suguru places one last kiss to your clit, gentlly as ever; his calloused hands glide over your calves and thighs when he places your leg down onto the wooden floor. with his finger hooked under the material of your underwear, he tugs them down instead of up and taps on your foot for you to raise it.

finally poking his head out from under the skirt, both of you need a moment to collect yourselves; completely disheveled, sweaty and fucked out, panting and heaving – your eyes are still heavy with a flicker of something tender inside them.

you watch the knight pocket the ruined undergarments with a kind of sly grin.

for later.

suguru stays there down on his knees, staring up at you like you're the one that hung the stars in the sky. in his head, you did.

when you try to shove his face to escape the wave of embarrassment that's creeping up your throat but when your fingers meet the slick that's covering the entirety of suguru's lower half of his face, you can't help but cringe at yourself.

and suguru falls for you more. deeper, harder.

"can— can i kiss you?"

your words are but a mere whisper, afraid to see the light, but suguru welcomes them with open arms nonetheless. the corners of his lips tug upward, his hands itching to hold her.

"of course, sweetheart."

you hold each other's gaze as he stands, the rhythm of your chests rising and falling matching in pace.

delicate fingers play with the material of suguru's shirt, a certain nervousness flowing through you despite the fact that you've done this many times before. but you always get like this – a bit shy, a bit timid, wishing to nuzzle your face into the his chest to hide from his fond eyes, the attention suddenly too much. it's the effect he has on you. but you still wants the kiss, you still want the love.

so you push through.

suguru's hand raises to his mouth, his eyebrow quirks up when he sees your eyes grow wider. "don't you want me to wipe it off?"

burns, it burns.

your skin burns.

"no..."

and it burns even stronger, even brighter, at the sight of his wolfish grin, shis sharp canines glinting at you inthe soft candlelight.

"no?"

a tease.

a shake of your head.

a searing kiss. a touch of love.

[a-b-riddle]

Part Five

Can't stop thinking about the attempt of reconciliation and reader ain't having it. Our girl is going to be wilddddd y'all. Also goodnight. See y'all tomorrow (maybe)

You call Meredith when you get home.

You. Are. Fuming. She's not sure she can ever remember a time you using so many swear words at one time.

How fucking dare them? Immature? You're the immature one? You were the one trying your best to salvage four failing relationship meanwhile none of those assholes could be bothered to try and keep one. They had one person to manage: you.

"I wanna go out this weekend." "Wear something tight and borderline risk indecent exposure."

"You know what I always say," Meredith begins. "The best way to get over someone-"

"is to get under someone else." You finish. You weren't exactly keen on the idea of bringing someone to your bed just yet, but a little attention would do you some good. "I don't want to fuck someone just yet." You admitted. "I'm more on the getting drunk and making out."

"I didn't know we resorted back secondary school heavy petting?" She teased.

"University, Dear." You corrected. "I didn't peak until after I graduated."

"No." She argued. "You didn't put your books down long enough to realize that boys actually wanted to fuck you." You were glad she couldn't see you roll your eyes. "Saturday work for you? I have a late night Friday and won't be up for it."

"That works."

"Sorry." She apologized. "I plan on getting you absolutely smashed so I need to be ready to play the nanny. I know how you love to get drunk and run off."

It was true. You had always found it hilarious when you were drunk to just run. Quite literally run away. It got to a point during university where Meredith would handcuff you to her so you didn't stray.

"I won't run." Your sober mind promised.

"Uh huh." Meredith's tone told you that she knew that was a load of shit. "I'll text Tabs. Let her know the plan."

The next day at the shop was pretty uneventful. No more unexpected visitors. You still had them all blocked. Not caring if now they decided to offer up some bullshit apology.

Months. This had been a steady decline for six months. A text or a simply sorry won't fix this. You weren't sure anything could.

But it didn't matter. You were done and they obviously were too.

You had picked up enough take out to feed a family, but you didn't plan on making your lunch before work or cooking when you got home. The rest of the week you planned on just going through the motions until you could go out Saturday and hopefully get everything out.

You weren't paying attention as you walked down the hallway to your flat. Fishing in your purse for keys. You were at almost at your door when you saw him.

Sitting next to your door was a familiar face. A face you felt you haven't seen in forever.

“What are you doing here, Kyle?" Your voice was flat as you continued to blindly try and find your keys with one hand. Fuck. You really need to clean out your purse...

“My key wouldn’t work.” He explained. "So I’m out here.”

"I'm aware why you're not in my apartment since I changed the locks," you said, trying to keep your irritation at bay. "What I am asking is why did you come here?"

"You won't return any of our messages."

"You're all blocked, so technically I didn't really get any messages." "Besides, you don't get to complain to me about not responding to texts, Kyle Garrick." Your fingers finally wraps around them. God bless. "If you're here for your things, it'll have to wait. I have to sort through everyone's shit and I don't know whose is whose."

"We need to talk." He explains as you put the key into the lock, opening the door.

"Nah," you say scrunching your nose in that way he used to adore. "I'm good. But you can swing by tomorrow and pick up your things if you'd like." You say before trying to shut the door on him. You were stupid in thinking you could be faster than him.

Dammit.

"I know things haven't been good and I've definitely could have been better,'' he admits. "But can you at least try and let us apologize? Let us try and work it out."

"No." You answered, trying to close the door. Not caring if you had to resort to kicking his shins to get him out.

"Why not?" He countered.

“Maybe because I've already tried, Kyle?” You gave up on trying to shut him out. You were strong, but he didn't have any issues in besting you. “Because I actually tried with you. With all of you. You didn’t need to come here giving me excuses about your life being hectic because I’ve made the excuses for you.” You didn't miss how he practically flinched. He had always blamed his busy life. Family. Work. You stopped caring about whatever excuse he gave you and realized it was just that. An excuse. “I’ve been telling myself for months that everything you guys didn’t do for me wasn’t because you didn’t care about me. It was because of the stress of your deployments is the reason none of you tell me when you get back from until it’s time to fuck. I tell myself it’s because of the fucked up situation of me being with all of you that makes it awkward to meet your families. Families you all have that I now know I’m not worthy of meeting.” He wanted to correct you. You were. You were worthy. He was an idiot. “It’s not that I need your excuses to make me feel like what you did was justified. No matter what it was, it was apparently to you because you did it.”

He took a step back, processing everything you had said. He had been selfish. You were the reliable constant in his life. Someone he believed he never disappointed. Someone he couldn't disappoint no matter how many times he fucked up.

You took the opportunity to slam the door. Quickly turning the lock before he had a chance to open it back up.

God...

That felt good.

You had spent that evening collecting their thing in case Kyle did show back up tomorrow. You wouldn't make their lives easier by sorting all their shit and organizing it. Everything. One box. Let them figure it out. You almost had a mind to add a shirt that you knew didn't belong to any of them just to have them argue over it. Or least make them think there was someone else...

You were almost tempted if not for the premise that you wanted them to realize this was their fault. Their fuck up. But now that you were officially all broken up, you were free game.

[cranberry-cherry6]

Waking her up with head Warnings: pre-established consent, oral sex, somnophilia, mentions of fingering and strapon use

Vi who put in work last night giving you orgasm after orgasm. Head, fingering, with her strap as the last course. Let's just say that after all that you didn't have enough energy to even get to the bathroom much less reciprocate, all of your murmured arguments were swiftly shut down.

 “you’ll get me next time, sweetheart, no sweat” she cooed pressing a firm yet gentle kiss to your forehead. You were knocked out within minutes.

And now that it’s morning, a few rays of sunlight making their way through your cheap curtains, just coming out of the best sleep you've had in weeks, the sight of vi’s relaxed face as she lays on her back brings butterflies to your stomach. 

Turning to face her while bringing a hand up to trace her freckles you really couldn't help but feel the heat in your core brewing. I mean what's the point of having a gorgeous girlfriend if you can't love on her. 

Lifting the worn duvet to expose her breasts, watching her pink nipples harden in the cool air. Slowly sitting up to press barely there kisses against them, trailing them down her stomach. Never looking away from her face to catch any and every reaction. It was incredible to watch someone so guarded let their walls down. 

It filled your chest with joy to be able to play a part in her feeling safe, here, in your small home. These thoughts just filled you with passion, kisses becoming more firm and fast paced. Sliding between her relaxed thighs, lifting one over your shoulder for better access.

You were faced with her gorgeous exposed sex, soft pink hair, pretty clit in all it's glory.

You didn't want to wake her up abruptly, starting by blowing cool air on her twitching clit. Then leaning down to press a soft open mouthed kiss to it before moving down to her entrance,  Repeating the back and forth motion a few times, before pressing your tongue flat against it in a slow drag. 

That gave you a furrowed brow paired with a soft sigh. You couldn't take your eyes off her even if you tried. Every movement caught in the weight of your gaze, trying to further her reactions. At this point you had lost all regard for waking her and had moved to kissing her pretty pussy the way you would during one of your passionate makeouts. Your hunger, insatiable, fed by the thought of her orgasm. 

Finally her eyes opened immediately looking down, gaze heavy with sleep and want. It’s only a small moment of heady shock before a cocky smirk is stretched over her lips.

“What a way to wake up” she sighs, a small moan tumbling out of her mouth at the increase of your pace, now that she's awake the last bit of your restraint is gone.

And it’s not long before you can feel her approaching orgasm. 

“ah shiiit” “f-f-uck….that’s it baby, don't stop"

 “im gonna cuum”

Her fingers reach down to lace into your hair, holding you right where she needs. The pressure snaps, her thighs clenching around you, bordering on suffocation. 

Only letting you come up for sure after her orgasm just running on fumes. 

“m'sorry, honey come here” she’s still catching her breath as she uses her big strong arms to pull you up to lay on her. 

Pressing her lips to yours in a filthy kiss, tasting herself on you. 

You break the kiss just to litter her face and neck in at least 50 more. Causing her to let out a soft chuckle and press her nose right into cheek trying to get some of her own in. 

Finally, relaxing back into her pillow with a deep breath and smile on her face. You follow in her lead letting your muscles relax and your head rest against her sternum where you place one final kiss.

“Told you I was going get you back” you whispered wiping a hand over your mouth.

“Yea, yea you got me good, I thought you'd be fast asleep still, it looked like you were never gonna get back up last night” you scoff at her response, cocky as ever, like you didn't just have her cross eyed. 

Like she knew you were rearing up to sass her back, she took one of her large hands using it to draw big soothing circles along your spine. 

Honestly the fact that she knew that, that would calm you right down was another point of irritation, but you decided that you were in fact actually still tired from last night and the petty back and forth could wait till later, when you were both more awake and looking through whatever scraps were left in your fridge for breakfast. 

Being able to tell that you were getting ready to go back to snoozeville she pulled the discarded duvet back up over both of you. Deciding that while shes would usually be up, ready to seize the day by now, that early morning orgasm had cleared her mind and made her just a bit sleepy. 

The steady thump of her heart beneath your ear lulling you to sleep. While the warm pressure of your body against hers, like a weighted blanket had the same effect on her.

The day would still be there after a quick late morning snooze.

[1d1195]

HOV

~8k words

From me: a one-shot

Warnings: enemies to lovers (because WHY NOT), panicked Harry, car accident, hospital visit, etc.

Summary: Two environmentally friendly people carpool to work and almost kill each other every day. Harry brakes too much. She lets people go when it's not their turn. She gets crumbs all over her car. Harry listens to really boring podcasts. Harry thinks she's beautiful even if she's annoying. She thinks Harry is unbelievably sexy even if his opinion of her music is rude.

It’s for the environment. It’s for the environment. It’s for the environment.

Every day he waited for her to get to his car he had to chant it to himself that it was worth it. “We’re not going to fight today,” he mumbled to himself as she left the apartment building. It was exactly one building next to his and so it made sense.

She looked really pretty. She always did. It was brutal on his psyche because he wanted to like her. He was desperate to like her, but she was just so... annoying. But her hair was half up in a clip, pieces spilled from it almost artfully. That was the only way he could describe her: art. Harry wasn’t sure if she wore makeup, he suspected she did but if he found out she was naturally that stunning he wouldn’t have been surprised either.

Her dress pants looked perfect on her legs, not quite painted on but close. Her bright blue button down was tucked in and complimented her complexion so well. She wore a pair of heels to complete her look which he knew she didn’t like doing so he was bracing for her complaints—she was much more of a flats person; but she felt she had to wear them to be taken seriously. She looked professional, beautiful, but approachable.

Harry took a deep breath trying to quell the frustration, anxiety, and adoration he had for her before she got in the car. We’re not going to fight today.

“Hi,” she greeted quietly.

“Hi,” he answered as she got settled. She put her coffee mug in the cup holder, her lunch bag and work bag went to the floor by her feet. Harry much preferred her weekend look, and he was sure she did too; sweatpants, a hoodie or T-shirt, sneakers or slippers was much more her style and she wore that just as beautifully as she did her professional outfit.

Jesus Christ it was going to be a long week. How was it only Monday?

“Do y’have a presentation today?” He asked as she finally settled herself into the passenger seat.

“Yeah, why?” Harry noted she was immediately distrustful and did his best to ignore it because he was trying, with everything in him, to be polite and kind. More than he usual.

“Y’look nice,” he shrugged.

“As in I don’t usually look nice?” She asked defensively. “Are you playing a trick on me? Is this a joke?”

That was short-lived. He sighed and looked at the ceiling for help like the answer to this complicated woman was going to be there, finally. “No, s’not a joke. Y’always look nice, love. But y’look extra nice today.”

“Oh,” she pouted, the pucker between her eyebrows making itself known. He was used to seeing it and he found it cute since she looked so serious and her face was just so sweet it almost didn't make sense for her to look so grumpy. But Harry knew better. “Thank you,” she murmured, surprise laced in her voice. “Sorry... I’m nervous,” she explained.

He frowned. “M’sure you’ll be fine.”

“Mm.”

They didn’t speak for several moments. Silence was a lot better for them. Less of a chance to argue with one another. “How was your weekend?” She asked. Small talk was typically safe. As long as there wasn’t a lot of details.

“Good, finished m’book,” but he didn’t offer what he read because he knew they didn’t share the same taste in book genres and she would probably wrinkle her cute little nose in distaste. “How was yours?”

“Fine, visited my friend,” but she didn’t say which one because he would just tell her how she was being used for her money and networking to get into nice restaurants. The silence continued for another few minutes. She scrolled on her phone then pulled her laptop out of her bag. There was about forty minutes until they reached their office so maybe she would go over her presentation.

Harry would have offered to listen to it, but from experience, she would argue every point of constructive criticism he had to offer—only because he had done the very same. In actuality, her presentation was probably perfect. There was no need for her to be nervous. But as she had explained many times over, she was a woman in a corporate office with a bunch of men who didn’t trust her. She had to work twice as hard to get things done her way.

The silence was interrupted by her stomach growling loud enough for Harry to hear it. He sighed and rolled his eyes like it was a major inconvenience for him. “What, Harry? What?” She grumbled.

“Why don’t y’jus’ eat before y’leave?”

“I told you, I’m nervous about my presentation today.”

“What’s your excuse for the other days?”

“Happy Monday,” she grumbled and put her head on the window. But of course, at that moment Harry stomped on the brake as he was wont to do. Meaning her head all but smacked off the glass. “Ow! For God’s sake, Harry! You don’t have to slam on the brakes!”

“I’m not,” she pulled the visor down to look in the mirror to inspect her forehead as if it was going to create a bruise instantly. “My God, you’re dramatic,” he muttered under his breath.

“You drive like a grandma,” she retorted.

“What, safely?!” He hissed through his teeth. He wanted to actually slam on the brakes. Her stomach growled again only further fueling his annoyance with her. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he pulled off the closest exit and headed for a nearby coffee shop so she could get a pastry or something for her.

“We don’t need to stop.”

“You need t’eat something. Sounds like y’trapped an animal in there.”

Her cheeks felt warm with his comparison. “That’s so fucking rude Harry.”

“I don’t care, y’need t’eat!”

“I’m not hungry. I’m nervous about my presentation.”

“S’gonna be a shitty presentation if y’stomach keeps growling over the sound of your voice.”

She inhaled deeply, closed her eyes and turned to look at the window. “I’m too nervous to eat; thank you for caring in your overbearing, aggressive way, but I won’t eat anything. I’ll eat a granola bar from my desk when we get to the office,” she explained.

Harry rolled his eyes and shook his head but returned to the highway after their tiny detour. “You’re sure?”

“Yup. Can’t eat in the car anyway and I don’t want to be any later than we already are.”

“Late,” his eyes were going to get stuck trying to look at the back of his brain. “You’re ridiculous.”

The spat simmered tensely in the silent air between them. They went a whole four minutes without arguing. That had to be a record, even for them.

*

The drive home was much less tense almost always. Usually, they were both too drained to speak to one another, so it made it a lot easier to tolerate the other person’s existence.

So, it was Harry’s fault that they argued again on the way home.

“How was your presentation?” He asked politely.

“Fine,” she shrugged.

“Jus’ fine?” He frowned. “Y’were all worked up ‘bout it this morning.”

“Yeah, because no one takes me seriously,” she snorted, but her laugh didn’t have a trace of real humor in it.

“Right, so it was just fine?”

“What are you looking for here Harry?” Her irritation was evident in her voice.

“I don’t know, a better adjective? Y’got through t’them? They hated it? Fine makes y’sound like a teen coming home from school.”

She rolled her eyes. “They’re going to table my idea for another day,” she sounded exhausted, and Harry was tired too, so in hindsight, he was willing to take the entire blame for the argument and subsequent tense ride home.

“How do y’feel ‘bout that?”

“What do you even care for, Harry? What’s with the interrogation?”

“Forget it,” he sighed. “I was jus’ making conversation. Y’didn’t even ask how my day was.”

“How was your day?” She snapped.

“Fine.”

Her hands clenched into fists in her lap, and she inhaled deeply. “Don’t talk to me,” she grumbled.

“Fine by me.”

*

She drove every other day; it was their routine. It saved wear and tear on their cars and since her car was a hybrid, they really saved on gas and were doing their part to save the environment. If either of them had a car appointment or stayed home sick, then the other one would of course drive and they would pick up the following day, right where they left off.

When she drove, however, Harry was even grumpier, somehow. Though, it seemed impossible someone could be grumpier. But she made him leave an hour earlier than necessary. Harry was already awake and ready but he very much enjoyed a gradual wake up. He liked the time in the morning to do the daily NYT crossword puzzle and to meditate or workout before going to the office.

He did not like arguing an hour earlier than normal.

“It’s for the environment,” she mumbled to herself as Harry approached. He was otherworldly handsome. He looked like he should have been a model, not a financial wizard. His hair was perfectly messy, his eyes sparkled, and his entire frame was just meant to tempt her. In a suit (which he wore every weekday), he looked fan-fucking-tastic. Everything ironed crisply, his tie perfectly straight. He was sincerely hot—there was no other way to describe him.

But his weekend look? When she saw him out and about lounging in joggers and T-shirts that clung to every muscle in his torso? That was her favorite version of him. They usually ran into each other on nice weather days when they both wanted sunshine and air. Harry jogged a lot. She would read on the bench in front of her building. Sometimes they saw one another at the grocery store. But given they spent two hours every day in an enclosed area and argued for nearly the entire time, they were not spending any more of their weekend doing the same thing, so not much more than a polite hello was said between them.

“Good morning,” he murmured as he got in and settled his bag at his feet. Harry didn’t have a presentation to prep so he was planning on sleeping and meditating this morning with his head propped against the window.

“Morning,” she answered softly.

“Sleep okay?” He asked. “The rain and wind woke me a lot.”

“Same,” she agreed. “You’re going to try and sleep then?”

“Mmm,” he hummed. “S’that okay?”

“Yeah, of course.”

It felt less tense today. We’re not going to argue, she thought to herself.

While Harry slept, she remained focused on the road. Her mind making a mental to do list for when she arrived at the office. She knew Harry hated getting there early, but her brain focused so much better without people constantly bothering her.

For a company that clearly had it out for a woman in finance, they sure did need her a whole lot.

She had music on low that she sang quietly along with while Harry slept. If it bothered him, he didn’t say anything today.

Even with Harry sleeping most of the way, it had to be a record that they didn’t argue all the way until they were a mere five minutes from their building. Naturally, their getting along came to an abrupt end. A truck roared in front of her, cutting her off and merging with very little space between them so it could get to the next lane and off at the next turn. It made her gasp and slam on her brakes at the same time. Instinctively, she tossed her arm out to save Harry from whiplash, her arm pressed to the front of his body. “What the fuck!?” He shouted and jolted awake.

“Sorry! Sorry! I was—” She dropped her arm quickly and her hand went back to the steering wheel quickly, hiding the shake she felt in it.

“Were y’letting someone randomly go again?”

She had a penchant for being too polite on the road—it was Harry’s least favorite thing about her driving habits. “N-no—” her palms were sweating against the wheel, her heart pounding as she gripped at it tighter. She parked and felt a wave of frustration and worry fall over her. Even some embarrassment as Harry yelled at her.

She hated being cut off by another driver. It made her so nervous. She wasn’t a car person, but hers was her baby. She didn’t want anything to happen to it and if being a little extra nice and cautious on the road would keep it safe, then she would do it.

“S’more dangerous t’be polite,” he grumbled. “Jesus Christ.”

“I’m sorr—”

“Jus’ another reason we should get here so fucking early,” he snapped. “Forget it,” he shook his head and got out of the car and headed into the building without looking at her again. Still shaking, she pouted, took a few calming breaths and composed herself before she followed Harry’s path to their office building.

*

On the ride home she stopped for coffee and kindly purchased Harry one as well without asking—but when he heard her order it at the drive-through, he felt the argument from the morning disappearing slowly from his mind. “Thanks,” he mumbled from beside her.

“You’re welcome,” she figured less would be more in talking to him—especially after their morning.

But it didn’t help that she let two people merge in front of her as they got on the highway—almost like she was still nervous from this morning. Harry sighed heavily, like he was personally inconvenienced by her kindness to other drivers. She ignored it and continued home. Harry watched as she bit into a powdered donut she got. He rolled his eyes.

“What?” She asked through a mouthful, the sugar floated all over herself and her gearshift. He shook his head.

“S’a messy donut.”

“It’s my car,” she pouted. It was hard to take her seriously when she had powdered sugar all over her mouth. She was pretty adorable with sugar all over her cheeks, though, Harry would give her that.

“If y’want t’trade y’car in, they like it to be clean.”

She rolled her eyes. “I’m not getting rid of her ever.”

He just shook his head again. Some mornings she ate a breakfast sandwich and Harry watched the crumbs of her croissant rain on her outfit like confetti while she drove with one hand on the wheel. His car was pristine while hers was not. There were half empty water bottles in the back and random pieces of her “emergency” kit strewn about in the boot of her car in a way that Harry doubted would ever help if there was truly an emergency. There were blankets and reusable grocery bags all across the backseat—there was just no order. Which was so weird because she was one of the most organized people he knew.

“Y’know y’shouldn’t use plastic water bottles,” he rebuked as he caught sight of another one on the floor behind him.

She sighed. “I recycle them, Harry. Do you honestly think I don’t care about the environment when we carpool every day? Do you think that arguing with you for an hour and a half every day is because I hate the environment?”

“Forget it,” he sighed not wanting to argue. “How was your day?” He asked trying to recreate the tension free car ride that was present first thing this morning before they fought in the parking lot.

“It was okay,” she shrugged but immediately, Harry knew it was a lie. He quirked one eyebrow at her in disbelief and her unsure tone. With a bigger sigh, she relented. “I got yelled at for something that wasn’t my fault and then I didn't even get an apology when they realized it wasn’t.”

Harry frowned. “Did y’say something?”

“Did I try to hurt the male ego?" She shook her head with another eye roll. "Harry, I would never.”

He smirked and looked out the window. She was funny. Even if she was annoying. “Y’have no problem hurting my ego.”

“I hurt your ego?” She asked in surprise. He shrugged and nodded with a smirk still on his lips. That cute little wrinkle between her eyebrows pinched together and made itself known again. Harry once more was overcome by how adorable she was. He didn’t understand her question. Or why she cared. But he wished he had paid closer attention to her reaction because she suddenly looked so upset. “I didn’t know that,” her voice was soft. “I’m... I’m sorry, Harry,” and it really sounded like she was.

He blinked. “S’fine,” he shrugged one shoulder. “I know y’don’t mean it.”

“I don’t, truly.” It felt really important that Harry knew that. Maybe it was her crummy day. Coworkers continued to not trust her nor believe she was capable of doing well, which made her feel worse. God why did she continue working where she wasn’t wanted? Where she wasn’t appreciated? She was still a little shaken from her almost accident and her uncanny ability to piss Harry off. She was suddenly very forlorn over the idea that she had hurt Harry in any way. “How...how was your day?” She asked tentatively her voice catching.

“It was good,” he nodded, but he was looking at her suspiciously and the sound of anxiety coating her words. “Ordinary... Nothing t’really report... Who yelled at you, by the way?”

“No one, it’s nothing,” she shook her head quickly.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Then jus’ tell me, love. S’not a big deal.”

She sighed, irritated, dejected, and tired of arguing. “Do you know Jason?”

Harry scoffed. “He’s a prick and can’t add two plus two. Don’t let him get t’you. Sorry he yelled at you.”

It was one of the nicest things Harry had ever said on her behalf. “S’not your fault,” she mumbled.

“Yeah, but he shouldn’t. M’sure y’do everything perfectly. He’s probably jealous and stupid and everything else.”

“Thank you,” her voice was still soft. Her eyes felt misty at his kindness. Harry being nice on top of her shitty day was so overwhelming—too overwhelming.

Harry noticed right away. “Are you okay?”

“Yeah, m’fine,” she nodded, wiping at her cheek.

“Y’don’t look fine, love... Why don’t y’pull over? I don’t want you t’drive if you’re emotional. S’not safe.”

She sniffed. “It’s fine. I’m just being overly sensitive. Not a lot of sleep and... It just... it wasn’t a very good day,” she swiped her hand beneath her nose and wiped her below her eye again while her words got caught in her throat a few times as she spoke.

“Hey,” his voice was gentle. More gentle than it ever had been toward her. “Please, love... jus’ pull over,” he encouraged quietly, he placed a hand on her shoulder. “Love, please,” he pleaded. “S’okay t’be emotional.”

“No, it’s not,” she whimpered but pulled to the shoulder of the road at the same time as she heaved on a shaky breath. Cars whizzed past them and Harry watched her closely. “I work in a sea of testosterone, and I’m never appreciated, never respected, and I can’t be emotional,” she fanned her hand in front of her eyes trying to will the tears away. “Especially in front of you.”

“Me?” He pouted, anger took the forefront of his mind, but he had never seen her like this. He felt bad because she was so upset. So, he refrained from snapping back at her.

“You’ll just use it against me or save it for a rainy day to embarrass me.”

“Is that what you really think?” He tutted, his voice devoid of emotion.

She sniffled again. “Yeah... you yelled at me this morning... I didn’t mean to jostle you like that but someone cut me off and—”

She was still upset about that? That seemed like a lifetime ago. Yeah, Harry was irritated, but he felt bad she was holding onto something so small all day. It wasn’t that big of a deal. Her day must have been really shitty if she let one of their arguments take hold of her emotions all day long.

“Hey... hey don’t cry. M’sorry—I shouldn’t have—it doesn’t matter... But y’have t’know, I would never do that, love. M’sorry if I’ve made y’feel that way,” he soothingly rubbed her arm up and down. “S’okay,” he reassured her. “M’gonna drive the rest of the way home. Jus’ slide over for me, love, yeah?” He asked and before she could protest, he was getting out of the car and going to the driver’s side. Not that she really wanted to protest.

But she would have if they were in a parking lot or on a non-highway road. She tried the door handle but Harry shook his head as he approached the driver’s door and jutted his chin to the passenger seat again. Again, she might have argued, but she didn’t want Harry subjected to the busy traffic for any longer, so she awkwardly slid over the console as Harry stayed pressed to the side of the car.

One small piece of her brain realized the most handsome man she knew wasn't letting her get out on the traffic-side. It was a protective, chivalrous moment that made her stomach do a somersault.

Once in the passenger seat, she brushed the powdered sugar that was on the driver's side just before he sat and got powder all over her pants. “Why don’t y’nap or something?” He suggested quietly and pulled into traffic again without any other fanfare.

“Alright,” she sniffed. “Thanks, sorry again.”

“No problem, love,” he mumbled and drove the rest of the way home in silence. He hoped she felt a little better by the time he parked and gently shook her awake. He didn’t say much other than he would see her tomorrow and returned her keys to her. “Have a good night, love,” he murmured as he gathered his belongings and left before they could return to their natural instinct of arguing with one another.

*

After her mini meltdown she was really hopeful that they had turned a corner in their arguing. She couldn’t remember who started the first argument so long ago. When they realized they lived near one another and worked at the same place, it only made sense to carpool. But she didn’t know they would find fault in every little thing.

Harry was constantly late. (But he wasn’t. Not really. He was on time. Which may as well have been late in her book.) It made her insane. He braked too hard—just like the other day. His choice in podcasts was too real and scary at times (she couldn’t get on the true crime train). His favorite book genre was history, which was fine, but he often made fun of the lighter romance novels she liked. There was the no eating in the car rule. And of course, there was his constant backseat driving—it was never-ending.

It's for the environment. She reminded herself.

It was another long day. Her meetings didn’t go well. Her coworkers undervalued her worth and if wasn’t for the fact that her main supervisor gave her stunning reviews and the money was so good, she would have quit ages ago.

Harry was irritated, and she wasn’t sure why. She had cleaned her car over the weekend. She even had it detailed so it was as pretty as Harry’s car. All her blankets were neatly folded, water bottles recycled, and she organized the trunk. There was a new air freshener and everything.

And yet, Harry was still annoyed. He turned the fan off. Twice. She adjusted the settings, they hadn’t even left the parking garage, and he still turned it off. “S’hot.”

“It’s not hot,” she grumbled.

“It feels like m’sweating. Gonna have a heat stroke.”

“Well, I’m cold.”

“Of course you are.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

It seemed Harry’s day wasn’t too good either as he was just as willing to argue and just as willing to stand his ground. While they argued they continued turning the temperature knob from one extreme to the other.

“You’re gonna break it!” She whined.

“You’re such a brat.”

Her neck snapped to face him. Her cheeks felt hot with embarrassment. “A brat!?” Her voice was three octaves higher than normal. It felt like the car was shaking.

“Yes, a brat who throws a fit when y’don’t get your way. All the time. Y’want t’leave an hour earlier. Y’want t’eat in the car. Roll the windows down, no now up. Y’want t’listen t’your dumb radio station that is ninety-percent ads. You’re. A. Brat.”

She did slam on her brakes at his explanation. She pulled toward the sidewalk right outside their office building. “Get. Out.”

Harry stared in disbelief. “You’re joking,” he cackled.

“I’m tired of arguing. You’re such a dick to me all the time,” she smacked her hand on the steering wheel. “I had a bad day, and you clearly had a bad day and you can’t leave well enough alone! So yeah. The environment can spare two less people carpooling. Get out of my fucking car, Harry Styles before I run us both into a telephone pole.”

“You’re so judgmental and so ridiculous—”

“Get out!” She practically shrieked.

Harry glared, yanking his stuff from where it sat at his feet. He got out of the car, slamming her door hard. He wouldn’t be surprised if it got stuck shut or if the whole frame shook as he did so. She peeled off the curb leaving Harry to fume. They never fought like that. Almost all their arguments always ended in a quiet “good night” or “have a good day.” Never did she shove him out of the car.

He was simmering with anger. He paced a few steps on the sidewalk trying to calm himself to figure out what to do. Maybe he could call her back. An Uber was going to cost a small fortune to get back home. Worth it, he supposed. God, she drained the life out of him.

He was breathing heavily. Good riddance. It was a dumb idea trying to carpool with someone that made him infuriated. Incensed with the feeling of being right, he scrolled on his app for a new ride.

Before he could submit his request for the most expensive Uber in the history of the world, all anger left his body—floated away as if it wasn’t even there in the first place.

There was a screech of tires and a sickening crunch of metal. Harry looked up just in time to see her car do a full 360 before landing upside down in the middle of the intersection. Her car teetered back and forth as it balanced on the roof. His jaw went slack as he watched the car of the pretty girl he was just arguing with crunch in the middle of the roadway. He was practically ready to strangle her himself but he never wanted—

“Oh my God,” he whispered to himself. Before he fully grasped his own movements he was sprinting into the middle of the roadway.

Without knowing what else to do, he knelt to the ground in a spray of plastic, metal, and glass, his face was almost pressed to the ground as he tried to peer into the only available space. “Baby? You with me?” He asked looking at the terrified, shaking girl. There was blood pouring from her hairline, her hands gripped the steering wheel around the deployed airbag like she was still driving.

“H-Harry?” She whispered. A switch flipped inside him. He wanted to rip the upside-down door off and yank her out. He wanted to hold her. All those annoying things she did, they didn’t bother him anymore. She was so pretty, so sweet, and so funny. The mere thought of her injured, terrified him and broke his heart. He didn't know he felt that way and he was mortified that it took this to realize it.

“M’here, love. M’here, you’re okay, just focus on me,” he was shaking as he dialed on his phone for the emergency line. “There’s been a car crash in the intersection outside of Prosperis Financial,” he said. “There’s at least one injured party.”

“Harry,” she whimpered.

“I know. I know, my love. I know,” he cooed.

God how could he be so stupid? How could he get out of the car? How could he take so long to get out of the car? If they just didn’t fight, they would have been through the intersection and—

“Harry, my head hurts,” she interrupted his spiraling.

“I know, kitten, I know,” he repeated.

“A-and my leg hurts really bad,” she whispered a small break in her voice. She was shocked and in near tears.

“Don’t move your neck, baby,” he ordered.

“I’m scared,” she cried.

“I know, love, I know, m’scared too. But m’not going t'leave you for one second, baby, okay? You’re going t’be fine, everything’s going t’be fine,” he sounded pretty reassuring considering he was freaking out too.

“I didn’t—I didn't see it,” she sniffled.

“S’not your fault, kitten. S’okay. You’re okay, love. Just breathe, and keep talking, yeah?”

“I didn’t mean to yell at you...” she croaked, the anxiety in her voice broke his heart. He hated she felt she had to say it. “I don’t mean to, ever. I-I don’t know why—”

“Shh… we’re not talking ‘bout that. S’okay, my love. We’re okay,” he promised. She could argue whatever she wanted. Harry was in complete agreement. She was right. Every time. He did brake too hard. She wasn’t too nice to others on the road. She could eat in the car or have the heat on in the middle of the summer. Whatever she wanted.

“Okay... I'm sorry,” her voice sounded quiet.

“Help is coming, baby. M’not gonna leave your side, yeah? Jus’ hang on a little bit longer. I know—”

“I’m sorry I eat in your car sometimes,” she whispered her voice cracking more as she apologized for things that no longer mattered. “I’m sorry I’m a brat—”

“No, no, my love. You’re not a brat... shh...” he couldn’t tear his eyes away from her figure, clutching the wheel like she was scared to let go. His heart was aching to do something more, beating too loud in his ears. He wanted to keep her talking. Wanted to rip her out of the car and make sure she was alright. She could do whatever she wanted in his car for the rest of her life. As far as he was concerned, he would be driving her every day for the rest of time. She was never getting behind the wheel again. “S’okay, baby. Whatever makes y’happy.”

She sniffled. “Harry, I don’t feel very good,” she mumbled. “My head hurts.”

“I know it does, kitten,” his voice cracked hearing the exhaustion in her voice. “I’d trade with y’in a heartbeat,” he mumbled.

She sniveled. “I wanna get out.”

“I know, my love. M’trying. They’ll be here soon.”

“I’m scared,” her voice was soft again.

“Baby, I know,” he groaned. Where the fuck was the ambulance?!

She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. “I’m glad you weren’t in the car,” she whispered. His heart shattered.

“M’not, kitten. M’not glad at all,” he shook his head.

“I think I’m going to pass out,” she warned and then her neck went limp.

“Baby?” Her hands slid from the steering wheel and her head lolled to the side. “Shit!” Harry reached through the broken glass, but the angle was too awkward, and he couldn’t see and reach at the same time. “Kitten, love,” his voice pitched an octave higher with hysteria quickly flooding him. “Baby? Open your eyes! Please,” he begged. “Kitten? Come on,” he muttered reaching blindly for her again. “Fuck,” he croaked.

“Excuse us, sir,” an EMT was finally at his side pushing Harry out of the way. He covered his mouth, sitting back on his heels as they pulled the car to its wheels once more. There was a flurry of movement as they pried through the metal and glass to get her. He choked on his breath as they removed her and he swallowed hard, his heart felt broken as they put a brace around her neck and lifted her onto a stretcher—still unconscious much to his horror. “Are you the boyfriend? Coming on the ambulance?” the paramedic asked.

“Yes,” he answered immediately and filed in behind them.

*

Harry called her mom and sister. They were on their way. He paced the waiting room with the biggest teddy bear the shop had to purchase while he waited for her surgery and tests to end. It felt endless. Harry thought he had aged ten years during the time he was there waiting.

He also got her a balloon—a heart shaped one that said get well soon. He got flowers. And chocolate too. Once he saw her pretty eyes open again and her family was present, he was going to get her a coffee and breakfast sandwich too.

His clothes were dirty from lying in the street, the knees of his slacks had the tiniest holes and rips. His cheek had a few cuts and scratches from pressing it to the ground while he spoke to her upside-down body.

“Are you the boyfriend?”

He shook the thoughts of seeing her bleeding, terrified body away from his mind at the sound of someone speaking to him.

It was hard to believe only yesterday he would have shuddered at the thought. “Yes,” he answered instantly, not caring in the slightest that he was lying for the second time in several hours about their relationship status. “Is she alright?”

“She’s fine,” the doctor stated. Harry sighed with relief, dragged a hand through his hair and swallowed around the relieved tears that filled his eyes and cut off the voice in his throat. He coughed awkwardly.

“Can I see her?” He asked. “Please?”

“Yes, she’s just coming out of the anesthesia,” he explained and tilted his head toward the hallway. Harry grabbed all his presents for her and followed. “She’s a little out of it still,” he warned.

“But she’s okay?” He repeated like he didn't believe the doctor.

“Yes, she’s fine,” he knocked and opened the door.

“Oh, your boyfriend is here, miss,” an older nurse smiled at her as she fiddled with her pillows and the IV stand.

The sweet girl looked high as a kite, her eyes wide, the cut on her forehead stitched. “I don’t have a boyfriend,” she frowned. That cute wrinkle between her brows appeared and Harry wanted nothing more than to smooth it away and ease the tension she felt.

“You might want to rethink that,” a woman smiled at Harry with a wink. “He’s very cute and he brought you gifts.”

“Hi, kitten, baby,” he cooed and crouched beside her bed.

“You’re my boyfriend?” She mumbled in surprise. Her eyes were so wide with the loopy medicine, and he smirked, tears filling his eyes again.

“Yes, my love,” he didn’t even feel like he was lying. To her nor to himself about their relationship. It made sense and he truly adored her so easily. He was grateful for the switch in his mind, he just wished a car accident wasn't the cause.

She smiled, self-satisfied. “I knew you liked me,” she mumbled.

He chuckled and leaned forward to press his lips against her forehead. “Y’okay, baby?” He asked.

“They gave me medicine,” she explained holding up her arm that had three or four needles sticking in it.

“Easy, kitten,” he grabbed her outstretched arm and cupped her hand in both of his with a chuckle. He brought her fingers to his mouth and kissed her knuckles as the nurse pulled a chair up beside her for Harry to sit in.

“Harry," she said suddenly. Like he wasn't listening to her or paying attention to every little movement. "I broke my leg,” she pouted.

“M’sorry, kitten,” he was livid she was injured but with pain meds she was so cute and adorable that he almost chuckled at the way she sighed and frowned about her situation.

She glanced at their interconnected hands. “Have we been dating long? I didn’t know I had a boyfriend. Do I have amnesia?”

He snickered, kissed her fingers again. “No,” he shook his head. “S’quite new.”

“Oh,” she blinked and a smile grew on her face. “I like that you’re my boyfriend,” she sighed dreamily. “Isn’t he hot?” She asked the nurse who was checking her vitals again. Harry rolled his eyes, smirking and looking away from her and the nurse at her appraisal. It was good to know she felt affected by his presence as well. He liked her loopy thoughts and he hoped they would remain true when the medicine wore off. “Did you call my mom?” She asked curiously.

He nodded, cleared his throat as he focused on more important facts and not worrying about their fake relationship status. “Yes, she’s on her way with your sister. I need t’call them, actually,” he pulled his phone out.

“How did you get their number?”

“I looked them up on social media,” he mumbled keeping hold of one hand as he pressed the phone to his ear.

“Harry?” Her sister’s voice asked alertly.

“Hi Thea, she’s okay. M'sitting with her now. She’s loopy from the anesthesia but she’s awake.”

“Tell her to get me coffee,” she whispered loudly. Loud enough for her sister to hear through the phone. Harry smiled.

Thea sighed with relief and snickered. “Sounds like her,” she mumbled. “Thank you, Harry. We’re about twenty minutes out.”

“Of course,” he assured her. “You’ll tell your mum?” He asked.

“Yes, I got it.”

“See you soon.”

Harry placed his phone back in his pocket and watched her loopy mind work through something on her extremely expressive face. “Are you going to kiss me?” She giggled.

Harry laughed. “Later, baby.”

“When’s later?”

“When you’re a little coherent, m’love.”

She blew a breath through her lips making them sputter. “S’not fair.”

“I know,” the smile remained on his face knowing she was okay, and she wanted him to kiss her. It was a bit wild that the switch flipped so rapidly. This was someone he argued with for over two years every day and now he wanted to kiss her, hold her, and never let her go.

“Can I take a nap?” She yawned. “I’m sleepy.”

Harry turned to the nurse. “Can she? Does she have a concussion?”

“Shockingly, no concussion,” the nurse said reading the chart. “You can nap for a bit.”

She closed her eyes instantly. “Night Harry,” she sighed. “I love you.”

He felt his cheeks warm. Ignored her sweet words regardless of how much he would like them to be true. “Night, baby,” he chuckled and pressed another kiss to her forehead as she drifted to sleep without letting go of his hand.

*

When she woke up the next time she was staring at Harry in awe.  “Thea, I’m fine,” she rolled her eyes. The anesthesia had worn off a bit and she didn’t seem to remember she said I love you nor that Harry claimed to be her boyfriend. While she was hesitant to believe that Harry was really there for her, she was glad he was. She was foggy on the details but there was no mistaking that she felt a pull toward him. Maybe it was the kindness he showed her.

“You live in a fourth-floor apartment. You’re not fine. And your car is trash.”

Harry sat quietly to the side of the room while her mom and sister doted on her. Her mom was on the phone with the insurance company taking notes and questioning a lot. “Well, what am I supposed to do? I don't have a choice, I have to figure it out,” she shrugged.

“Figure what out? You’re going to just stay in your apartment for the next six weeks? You’ll go insane. And what if there’s a fire?”

“The chances of me getting in a car wreck and have my apartment catch on fire is probably astronomically small.”

Harry chuckled from his spot, but the sisters ignored him. “You hate your job. Why don’t you just quit and move back home for a bit?

Back home? Harry thought. Not next door? That wouldn't work for Harry's already obsessed heart. “I have a spare bedroom,” Harry said in offering. “First floor apartment in m'building next t'hers,” he was speaking to Thea and not her.

She and Thea both turned to look at him. “I cannot—” She started.

“Really?” Thea interrupted. “You won’t mind? She’s going to need... a lot of help.”

“I can handle it,” he assured her. Thea knew they drove together. She was also well aware that her sister and Harry argued every day. There was no way Harry was going to survive taking care of her if they couldn’t spend more than five minutes in a car without arguing with one another. She watched Harry, bewildered by his kindness toward her. His willingness to take care of her and let her be a burden when he couldn’t stand her most days. “Are y’alright with that, love?”

It might have only been minutes between arguing and her accident, but the change of heart in herself over Harry was something to be admired. Harry was there almost before her airbag finished deploying. He kept her as calm as he could while they waited for the ambulance and promised her it would be okay. He reassured her that all their arguing didn’t mean anything and she softened. She felt herself melting for him. All the little things he did no longer bothered her. He really didn’t slam on the brakes. It was rude of her to want to eat in his car and make a mess. Perhaps it was too hot in her car and she was a little too mean about his favorite book genre.

Am I in love with Harry? She thought to herself. “If...if you’re sure... That’s an awful lot of time to spend with me,” she reminded him wondering if it was only her that was warmed by the near-death experience and she was imagining the knight-and-shining-armor-complex.

“Happy to,” he nodded and remained in his seat.

Harry was holding her hand when her sister and mom arrived, he gave her a gentle shake and called her kitten. Kitten your mum s’here. His voice was so warm and soothing. He didn’t remove his hand until she opened her eyes and his kind smile was a sweet greeting. He cupped her face and brushed his thumb against her jaw. M’gonna sit by the window while they visit, yeah?

“Do you ladies need anything?” He asked standing. “Coffee? Tea? Food?”

“All set, thank you Harry,” her mom smiled around the phone.

“I’m good too,” Thea nodded.

“Baby, all good?”

She nearly choked on her own spit hearing the pet name directed at her, in front of her family.  “Yes,” she murmured then shook her head. “Um... maybe just water?”

“Sure, love. Be right back.”

“I thought he hated you,” Thea was smiling excitedly.

“I thought he did too,” she shrugged a shoulder.

“You’re just going to live with him?”

She smirked. “Keep your friends close and your enemies closer, right?”

*

Harry carried all her stuff into his apartment and settled it in the spare room. He made sure she was safe in his apartment while he went with her sister to her place to get a suitcase of her clothes from next door. Harry was going to take her to get a new car as soon as the insurance check came through. He helped her to the couch and made sure she felt comfortable. Her foot was propped on a pillow as she stretched out on his furniture. For six weeks they were going to live together.

“Are y'in any pain? Do y’need anything?” He asked making sure she had the remote, a book, water, and blanket all within reach.

“M’fine,” she nodded.

“You sure y’don’t need anything?” He frowned.

“Harry,” she reached for his hand and held it. “Could you sit with me?”

His frown deepened. He crouched beside her, sitting on the coffee table close to her. He squeezed her hand. “What’s wrong?”

“Thank you for being there for me,” she whispered. “I was very scared.”

“Course, baby.”

Her heart skipped a beat with the sweet name again. “Do you like me?” She whispered.

“Was I unclear?” He asked, reaching for her face. His hand fit her cheek perfectly and he rubbed his thumb on her lower lip. The way his eyes softened as he looked at her was the stuff of her romance novels. His eyelids lowered and the smile on his mouth was equal parts sexy as it was innocent. “S’a little selfish of me inviting you here while you recover, don't y'think? S'a reason for it, love."

She cleared her throat, trying not to melt under his touch, his gaze. It seemed impossible. “But... we—we,” she took a deep breath trying to get the sentence in her head to form in her mouth. “Argue so much.”

“S’maybe we could try not arguing.”

“I feel like we’re incapable—”

He interrupted and normally she would have been mad, but his words made her feel hot, burning, like she wasn’t going to get relief unless he kissed her. “Jus’ gotta find a different way t’keep our mouths entertained, kitten,” he leaned forward and stopped when their lips were all but a millimeter apart. “May I?” He asked politely.

“Uh-huh, yes,” she nodded, her brain short circuiting just a hair. Her lips brushed his as she nodded, creating a spark of electricity unlike anything she had felt before. He moaned quietly at the contact. The sound was short-lived, and he tilted her chin and slid his lips over hers.

She gripped at his shirt by his shoulders, pulling him toward her. She felt herself opening to him: her mouth, her brain, her legs. She wanted him all over her and he couldn’t get close enough. It felt insane that less than twenty-four hours ago she would have strangled him for breathing too loudly beside her in the enclosed space of his car and now she wanted him breathing too loudly because of her kisses and more.

He caressed her jaw and the back of her head, tugging her hair ever so softly so she tilted her head back further. “S’nice, baby,” he sighed softly and trailed a path of kisses down her throat. “Knew we could not argue.”

She laughed and nodded. “Guess that’s what’s been missing.”

He chuckled. “Mmm,” he hummed in agreement. “Worth it,” he shrugged one shoulder and dove back in for another heated kiss, making her moan quietly into his mouth. His lips were warm, soft, firm, and perfect. It was a quick path to addiction, and she was happy to have him as her drug.

“Y’said y’loved me when y’came out of anesthesia,” he practically giggled as he pulled away.

She gasped. “I did not.”

“You did.”

“NO.” She slapped a hand over her warm, embarrassed face. “No I didn’t. You're lying.”

“You did, kitten. So sweet of you,” he winked.

She groaned and turned away from him. “I should have just gone into a coma.”

He laughed stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. “It was cute. You were all loopy.”

“I am not cute. I’m an adult woman and I’m not cute.”

“You’re adorable, actually. S’probably why m’obsessed with you.”

“You only knew you were obsessed with me twenty-four hours ago.”

He shrugged. “And I can’t get enough,” he assured her with a wink. “Now, m’thinking I’ll kiss you for another long while and then I’ll make you dinner?”

Her heart fluttered. “I like you a lot better when we don’t argue," she agreed.

He chuckled. “Me too, kitten. Me too,” he mumbled but followed through on his promise to kiss her again and not argue.

--

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@rose-girls-world @claimingharrystigertattoo @inlikea-coolway @theseaview @lunaharrygurl @emmie2308 @fruity-harry @somebunnybaby @avas-queen-black @mema10 @tulips4harry @spinninc @sassamanda77 @ell0ra-br3kk3r @mp-269 @jmp1494 @fangirl509east @sideboobrry11 @drewrry @dutchtheatrelore @copiastricycle @mypolicemanharryyy @harry2121 @inharryshelter

I'm sorry if I missed anyone in the taglist. Please let me know if you'd like to join, if it didn't work, if you no longer want to be included, etc. :)

If you like this, check out my masterlist here

[cinnamorollcrybaby]

girl i love your shut up mom and career day fic so much!!!!!! i was wondering if you can do something similar to bothh? no pressure if you dont wanna!

Baby's first words

Tags: fluff, crack, jjk men as dads x fem!reader, angst on Nanami's!!!

Synopsis: You and your husband have been trying to get your child to say their first words. Chaos ensues.

An: I hope this is close enough to what you were requesting!! I really couldn't think of much more. Also, I want to point out that I completely forgot that Todo's first name is Aoi. I want to clarify that it is completely unrelated to your baby's name with Satoru lol.

SATORU • SUGURU • TOJI • SUKUNA • NANAMI

SATORU

"Alright Aoi, say da-da, and I'll give you this yummy scoop of baby food." Your husband coaxes as he holds out a spoonful of baby food just out of your small baby's reach.

"Stop bribing our kid to say dada." You giggle as you walk up to your adorable baby sat in his high chair. You fluffed Satoru's hair affectionately with your hand. These were the moments that made life worth living.

"Hmph. I want dada to be his first word. Wouldn't that be so cool?" He asks with a small pout as he coaxes your baby's attention again with the spoon. "C'mon Aoi, da-da." He sounds out the word phonetically to try to teach Aoi.

However, your pretty blue-eyed baby looked up at you with the brightest smile. "Mama!" Aoi cried as he made grabby hands for you.

Yours and Satoru's mouths completely dropped. While you immediately started laughing and picking up Aoi out of the highchair to snuggle your baby, your husband just looked at you with a bittersweet pout. He wanted to be y'all's baby's first words, but it was worth it to see your reaction to Aoi saying mama.

"That's right, baby. Mama." You encourage, smooching him on his chubby little cheek.

"Alright, I get it kid. I'd say mama to get a kiss too." Satoru laughs as he holds out his cheek towards you with a playful grin.

Jokingly rolling your eyes, you press a kiss to Satoru's cheek too.

SUGURU

"Alright girls, can you say da-da?" You said to the two young twin girls in their highchairs. You pointed to Geto as he stood next to you.

"They're too young to be talking, darling." He muses as he looks at your twin girls.

"But they're not too young to learn. Don't act like you don't want to hear them say dada." You poke Geto in his side, causing for him to let out a hearty chuckle.

"I want to keep them as young for as long as possible. Watching them grow up is going to send me into an early retirement." He says as he lovingly rubs on your back.

A doorbell sounding throughout the house caused your husband to sigh deeply. He hated being pulled away from these moments with you and the girls.

"Were you expecting someone?" You curiously ask.

"No, it's probably just one of those filthy monkeys again." He gripes as he pinches the bridge of his nose.

"Dada!" Mimiko shouts with a giggle, garnering both your attentions.

"You really have to stop saying that in front of the girls." You chide as Geto picks up Mimiko from her highchair.

"My sweet girl." He grins at the baby in his hands and blows a raspberry on her cheek.

The doorbell rings again, and you sigh this time. "I guess I'll go get it." You say as you start to walk away.

"M-m... ma..ma.." Nanako quietly whimpered as your presence left the room.

"Oh, it's okay, little one. She'll be back." Geto soothes as he picks his other daughter up with his other arm. What's the purpose of having two arms if you couldn't snuggle both your twin daughters at the same time?

After scaring off a salesman, you return to the heartwarming sight.

"You missed it, darling. Nanako said mama." Geto informs you with a proud smile.

"I always miss the good parts!" You complain as you scoop Nanako up out of Geto's arms. "I hope they stay this little forever."

"Me too."

TOJI

"Okay Gumi, can you say ma-ma?" You say as you're staring with a bright smile at your flat expression baby. He honestly looks like he might be judging you for even insinuating that he'd say mama.

"Okay, tough crowd." You muse as you hand Megumi one of his toys for him to play with.

You have been trying to teach him how to say mama for the past month or so, but he hasn't really said much of anything. He'll babble sometimes, but it's rare.

You were concerned about his mental and social development, but his pediatrician assured you that there was nothing wrong with little Megumi.

"He just doesn't want to talk yet." The doctor informed you with a lighthearted laugh.

It was semi-funny, but you couldn't help and compare with other moms. You knew it was wrong and every baby developed at their own rate, but you really just wanted to hear your baby's sweet voice.

Toji walks in through the front door immediately kicking his shoes off. "No one touch me. I'm covered in blood." He grunts as he tries his best to maneuver and not spread the blood everywhere.

Given his job, you were already use to this. "It's not yours, right?" You ask as you look up at him.

"Course not, babe. What do you take me for? An amateur?" He asks with a cocky grin.

Megumi looks up from his highchair, and his eyes immediately go as big as saucers upon seeing his dad walk in through the door. "Papa!" He immediately cries out, making grabby hands towards Toji.

You stare at your son in disbelief. "You little traitor!" You whine, but you also feel the relief pool into you. Your baby really just didn't want to talk to you, but that's fine.

"Ahh you little shit. You would do this when I can't pick you up. Your mama will kill me if I get blood on you." He grins as he carefully pats Megumi's hair with a clean hand.

"Damn right. Go shower." You instruct with a small grin.

"Yes mam." He retorts playfully as he shot you a little wink.

SUKUNA

"Okay Ryu, say ma-ma." You say to your little pink-haired baby as he's looking at you from his high chair.

"That's so amateur. He's the son of the king." Sukuna says as he pulls up a chair and sits backwards in it, facing y'all's baby. "Say dismantle." He grins wildly, and your sweet baby just giggles at him.

"You dare laugh in the face of a king, hm?" Sukuna asks as he playfully narrows his eyes. Despite how scary he was trying to seem, Ryu just kept smiling at him and giggling.

"Stop trying to get our baby to say cursed techniques." You chide your husband while shaking your head.

"Fine. Say Satoru Gojo's a bitch."

"Ryomen!"

"What!?" Sukuna shouts defensively. "I'll never forgive that white-haired bastard for teaching his kid to say 'kuna sucks'." You quietly laugh remembering that random video that was sent to you two.

In their older age, Sukuna and Satoru had settled on having a baby race. Constantly filming their baby's milestones and gloating to the other.

Sukuna had practically cheered whenever little Ryu was eating more solid foods than Gojo's kid was.

"D...d.." Ryu babbles and tries to get his syllables right.

"Woman. Get your phone machine out. He's going to cast his first domain." Sukuna says as he's immediately grabbing onto your arm.

"Sukuna, for the last time. It's just called a phone, and he's not going to cast a domain." You say as you start recording your little baby Ryu.

"Da..da... dada." Your son babbles out reaching up towards his dad.

Sukuna's face slightly drops, but it wasn't to one of sadness. No, he felt surprised. His son was reaching to him, calling for him. To most people, he was the King of Curses, but to little Ryu, he was simply dada.

Your husband scoops your son into his arms, hugging him lovingly. "I'll let you slide just this once. Next time you'll cast a domain." He says playfully while cradling his son in his arms.

Later, you would get a text from Gojo after sending him that video.

Gojo: Cute kid. Sukuna looks happy. Fucker is finally softening in his prehistoric age.

NANAMI

"Say da-da..." Your voice plays over Nanami's phone as he watches the video you just sent him of you teaching Hana how to say her first words.

"Dada!" Hana yells with a cheerful smile while clapping her little hands together.

Your husband smiles, missing you two dearly right now. It feels like his heart lives outside his chest. If he could afford it, he'd go home and snuggle with you two.

Yn: Stay safe out there, Ken. Please.

He promptly texts back, promising that he'll be back home before you know it. Though, something about the air in Shibuya tonight gave Nanami second guesses about that.

He could leave. He could leave right now and return home to you and his daughter, but his students and his peers need him.

Yn: The power's out here, Ken. Is everything alright?

Yn: Jesus I can hear the explosions from here...

Yn: Please tell me that you're safe...

Yn: Hana and I are evacuating. I love you. Please text me as soon as you can.

Yn: You fuckig promised... you liedd to me.

Yn: What do I tell Hana every time she says dada?

[altruisticalastor]

↳˗ˏˋAlastor x Readerˊˎ˗ ↴

☒ Summary: Alastor didn't like sharing your charm with the others. Which often led him to get needy. Craving extra special attention from his darling girl, which you happily supplied.

☒ Warnings: fem!reader, she/her pronouns, established relationship, heavy breeding kink, praise kink, soft!alastor, creampies, dirty talk, fingering, light biting, nipple play (reader recieving), begging, making out

☒ Word Count: 1,564

Your peers swore you had cast a spell upon Alastor. He was wrapped around your little finger, and you lost count of how many times demons who stayed at the hotel would come up to you and ask if you owned his soul. 

You may not have owned his soul, but you certainly owned his heart.

After the initial shock wore off, your counterparts left it be. Angel would joke often about how Alastor was "pussy whipped". But that was as far as the teasing went. Everyone else knew not to step on The Radio Demon's toes. 

It wasn't hard for your peers to catch on; to why exactly Alastor loved you so dearly. You were an absolute sweetheart, caring and compassionate in every way. You always offered a hand to any of your counterparts who required assistance, and your actions proved that you were constantly thinking of ways to make everyone feel valued. 

Alastor rather despised having to share your charm with others. Which often led to long nights of your lover being clingy and needy for you. Much like tonight. 

You were flat on your back atop the plush duvet. Alastor surrounded you with his frame, slender arms enclosing near your head. Your lover placed soft kisses across your face. Humming one of his favorite tunes in the process. "Absolutely breathtaking, my doe," Alastor whispered, nuzzling his nose into the crook of your neck. 

A chill ran down your spine at the feeling of your lover's bare body pressing against yours. His cold flesh was a nice contrast to the warmth you emitted. You let out a soft whine as Alastor's erection grazed your lower tummy, making you needier than ever for him. Which was The Radio Demon's goal all along. It was only fair to make you feel just as desperate for him as he was for you. 

"Do you know how much I cherish you, my dear?" Alastor cooed, nipping at your neck. Leaving pretty marks in his wake. His sharp teeth grazing along your pulse point caused your breath to hitch. Your lover trailed lower, still pressing his body close to yours. 

"Yes," You sighed, burying your hands into his fluffy tufts of hair as Alastor's lips wrapped around one of your nipples. His hands began to wander. One slipped between your legs, gathering your slick with his deft digits. His other hand trailed to your other breast, tweaking your neglected nipple between his thumb and forefinger.

"Good girl..." Alastor released your nipple with a loud pop before darting his tongue out to circle around your areola. A cry of his name slipped past your parted lips as Alastor's ring finger eased its way into your pussy. Your grip on his hair tightened as you held him closely to your chest, pulling a deep groan from your lover's lips. 

"Feels so good, Al," You babbled, raising your hips to meet the slow cadence of his finger plunging deep inside you. Alastor's lips shifted to your other breast, giving it the same treatment. Only this time, his sharp teeth skimmed along your sensitive nipple. A sultry moan ripped through you from the sensation, urging Alastor on to add a second finger inside your inviting heat. 

Alastor slowly rutted his hips against the plush duvet, letting out groans against your marked-up flesh. "Please, my love... need you inside," You whined desperately, pulling his face up to have him meet your gaze. A string of saliva connected Alastor's lips to your hardened nipple. His cock twitched at the look of desperation you gave him. You scored your bottom lip with your teeth, eyebrows knitted with emphasis; eyes half-lidded. 

"How could I say no when you ask so graciously, hm? I intend to give my little doe everything she needs." Alastor's smile widened as he pulled his fingers out of your dripping heat. He didn't waste a beat wrapping his slick-coated fingers around the base of his cock. A whine escaped you as your lover ran the head of his flushed length between your folds.  

"Hmm, you're so wet for me, darling. Do I really work you up that much?" Alastor quipped, allowing the tip of his cock to push past the tight ring of your pussy. You nodded your head in agreement, pushing your hips closer to his; but to no avail. Alastor's hands came to hold your waist, keeping you in place. "Use your words, my dear."

"Y-Yes! Always, Al. Just you... only this needy for you," You were already stupefied by the pleasure your lover granted you, and he barely even began. A deep chuckle escaped Alastor. The radio crackle reverberated through his chest. "I hope you are aware that the feeling is mutual, my precious little doe,"

With that, your lover pushed deeper inside you. Stretching your walls to accommodate his length. "F..Fuck, so tight. You are squeezing me so greatly, darling." Alastor hissed through gritted teeth. Your thighs came up to wrap around his waist, pulling his pelvis flush against yours. 

A gasp fled you as you felt your lover twitch from deep inside you. His full balls kissed the underside of your pussy, making your head spin. "Al, you're so big, feels s-so good..." Your hands enveloped the back of his neck, drawing his face close to yours. Alastor's lips ghosted your own as he delivered his first thrust deep inside your fluttering heat. 

"You take me so well, my darling. Your tight little hole was made for me- and me alone." Alastor whispered against your lips, finding a slow but steady rhythm. Desperate whines escaped you, and your lover drank up each and every single one. Alastor was infatuated. His crimson orbs held so much adoration for you. 

You kept your gaze fixated on him as he fucked into you sweetly. Your legs narrowed around his waist as Alastor began plunging into you with more vigor. "I'm going to breed you, my sweet little doe," Alastor huffed. One of his large palms wrapped around your hand before he dragged it down to your tummy. A sharp gasp fled you as you touched the prominent bulge your lover was causing. "Feel that, my dear? I'm in so deep. Surely you'll get pregnant when I spill my seed inside you." 

You clenched harshly around him from his crude words. The thought of Alastor knocking up caused the coil within you to unravel. "P-Please, breed me! Fill me up, make me yours for good!" You cried out, thighs trembling around your lover's waist. Your words diminished the last of Alastor's resolve. Before you knew it, his large hands hooked under the back of your thighs. Pushing them tightly to your chest.

A sharp gasp escaped you from the change of position. Alastor's cock reached even deeper from this angle, intensifying the heat in your lower tummy. "Such a good girl you are! You're so pilant, so willing... so eager for me to fuck a baby into you." His words caused your walls to flutter wildly around his length. You were on the edge of cumming all over his cock. The pleasure Alastor provided you was becoming too invigorating to bear. 

"Al, ah... I'm close! K-Kiss me, please!" You begged as his hips pistoned harshly into yours. The lewd sound of his balls slapping against the underside of your drooling pussy sent a pleasurable chill down your spine. Alastor wasted no time capturing your lips. The kiss was hot and messy, tongues intertwining with one another as the coil within you finally snapped. Your lover drank up all of your whines as your pussy pulsed and gushed around his cock. 

Alastor wasn't far behind you. His release was triggered by yours. The feeling of your hot, wet walls trying to milk him for all he was worth made him feel lightheaded. His thrusts became sloppy before his hips ultimately stilled against yours. Alastor groaned into the kiss as his cock twitched from deep within you. Your eyes rolled into the back of your skull as the first ropes of his cum spilled into your pussy. 

There was so much, and the feeling of being bred by your lover was heavenly; ironically so. Alastor slowly broke away from the kiss as he attempted to catch his breath. His cock was still nestled deep inside you as he stared down at you lovingly. You couldn't help but smile widely at your lover, allowing your palms to capture his cheeks. Rubbing Alastor's face gently with the pads of your thumbs. 

"Alastor, that was... wow," You giggled as your lover slowly released his tight grip on your thighs, allowing your legs to lie flat against the bed. "You are truly perfect, my dear. I simply cannot get enough of you!" Alastor's praise caused your heart to flutter in your chest. He was so gentle with you and you alone. Pride surged through your soul at the notion that Alastor only had a soft spot for you.

Your train of thought was cut off by the sensation of your lover's cock hardening from deep inside you once more. A smirk crossed Alastor's features as he reveled in your look of shock. "What's with the look of awe, my darling? I told you I was going to breed you. I don't intend to leave this room until I am positive you have been thoroughly bred."

tags; @danveration

[puptrefied]

thinking about cait or vi edging you… :(

you’re sat on her lap, her fingers just teasingly swirling her fingers around your clit, ignoring your squirming as the subtle clicking sounds emitting from you get louder and louder TT

cw - fingering ⋆ dom!vi ⋆ fem!reader ⋆ kinda mean vi ⋆ edging ⋆ no dialogue from reader ⋆ reader cries just a little | 600 words .ᐟ

　sweaty, trembling, soaked through your underwear and you still haven't even come once. yeah, not a single time. vi made sure of that.

she’s leaned back in the couch like she’s lounging, legs spread, one arm around your waist keeping you pressed against her, the other buried between your thighs. that same lazy, practiced movement on your clit, nothing more than slow circles, perfectly measured.

and she's having so much fun with it.

wish I could say the same about you, though.

you’ve begged, squirmed, whimpered like some toy with a broken voice box for the last god knows how long, and she’s still got that same smirk on her lips. like she’s bored. like she’s just stretching her hand out, killing time.

"still not done," she mutters, fingers dragging slick through your folds, not even slipping inside this time—just enough pressure to make you twitch. your thighs clench and she sighs like you're the one being difficult.

“fuckin’ needy, huh.”

you nod even if it wasn't really a question, more like an observation from her. vi grabs your jaw and makes you look at her as her calloused thumb drags across your bottom lip like she’s thinking about what to do with you. ( because apparently, contrary to what most might think, letting you have an orgasm is not an option )

“you wanna cum that bad?”

another broken whimper and you hate how fast your body reacts—how obvious it is. how hot your skin feels under her hand, how your thighs won’t stop shaking.

“yeah, no.” she says it flatly, with no hesitation. fingers still moving against you.

“you think you get to ask?” her voice drops an octave—low, deliberate. her mouth is right at your ear, breath warm, words slow. pretty sure that if she spoke normally you wouldn't even register the words. “you sit here, on my lap, soaking my jeans, and you think I owe you something?”

the heel of her palm grinds up hard against your clit and your whole body jolts, instinct trying to push against her hand, hips rising to get her to thrust her fingers in the same way she did ten minutes ago—but she immediately shuts it down.

"nope, sit the fuck down."

a firm arm across your stomach, holding you in place. your back to her chest.

you go still, breath caught in your throat. you can feel it. it’s right there. you’re so close you’re shaking. your muscles tense. your vision even blurs.

then she stops.

just like that.

pulls her hand away completely and wipes your slick off on your inner thigh like it’s nothing. as if she can't hear you breathlessly whining.

“god, you’re a mess,” she’s laughing now. actually laughing at you. ( how cruel can a woman, your goddamn girlfriend, be? sigh. ) “you feel how fuckin’ wet you are? and for what?”

you can’t even speak. your mouth opens and closes like you forgot how to use it. tears prick your eyes and she catches that too.

“seriously?” vi’s voice is flat, unimpressed. “you’re crying over this?” she doesn’t sound mad. doesn’t even sound surprised. like this is exactly how she expected you to act.

she's as wet as you are, completely untouched and she can feel the wet fabric of her underwear sticking to her own needy cunt, her inner thighs also uncomfortable, but where's the fun in admitting it when she can make fun of you instead?

her fingers come back to your clit—light, almost lazy again. back to square one.

you whine. worn out.

and how could you not be? she goes from fast, rough and so so good and then stops out of nowhere just when you want—need her to keep going.

“come on,” she says quietly, steady as ever. she exhales through her nose, presses her mouth to your shoulder. “not yet.”

a soft kiss on your skin, her own hips lightly bucking up against your ass, and it's so surprisingly sweet that it's actually kinda distracting from the fact she's gonna keep going with little to no compassion in less than ten seconds.

masterlist.

[littlelovelunette]

would you be willing to write pt. 2 to Not in control, where reader quietly reassures Sevika with some soft smut?

Not In Control (2)

Contains gentle sex, oral, sub!sevika

"Oh, sweetheart, you know you're the only one who I want," you said as you helped Sevika take her mechanical arm off before bed. She always slept without it because she was afraid of hurting you with it accidentally.

"I know." Sevika grumbled, pulling her hair off from the half updo.

But you knew it, Sevika hated feeling jealous. Hated feeling to vulnerable to the bubbling in her chest as if she didn't matter to you and as if she couldn't hold your loyalty down. Sevika hated every little bit of it.

"You know, but you don't feel it," you said, rubbing Sevika's flesh arm as you tried to get her to listen but she didn't look at you. She avoided your gaze as if, if she looked at you she'd see you with another woman.

"I'm fine," Sevika said, waving a dismissive hand as she sat down at the edge of the bed, swinging her long legs over, the mattress dipping.

"No, you're not," you clambered onto her lap, resting yourself over her thighs. Sevika instinctively wrapped her arm around your waist to stabilise you. "Let me prove it to you."

Sevika raised a brow, leaning her back against the headboard, she watched as you undid the buttons of her nightshirt, opening it up. She didn't have a bra on, you grinned. "Mmmm, so pretty, see," you heaved both mounds on hands, massaging the nipple between two fingers.

Sevika let out a low throaty moan, rubbing her flesh thumb over your hip bone, "Fuck."

She threw her head back once she saw how you grabbed the hem of her boxers with your teeth, maintaining undeterred eye contact with her as you slowly pulled it down. "Mmmm..."

You hummed as you nibbled at her inner thigh, taking your time to savour every little bit of her exposed flesh. Sevika clenched around nothing, pussy already getting aroused with the filthy thoughts that threatened to consume her brain into a mush. The moment she felt your breath hit her pussy, her body trembled a little, "Eat it," her words were a whisper, a command and you were more than happy to listen and service.

You moaned when her musky scent hit your nose, burying your face into her cunt. Your tongue found her hole and you slipped it inside, coercing out her wetness, "Mmm... So sweet," you whispered and continued devouring the taste of her pussy.

Sevika moaned, grabbing the sheets with her flesh hand as she rutted her hips against your mouth, trying to get more friction against her aching heat desperately but you grabbed her hips and pushed her back.

"Let me work, baby," you licked circles around her clit, "I promise I'll make you cum."

"Oh, fuck," Sevika cursed under her breath, her thighs were almost about to close around your head but you held them open. Her big, muscly, shuddering thighs. You dipped your mouth deeper, slurping loudly.

With another circling of her clit with your tongue, you pressed it flat against her sensitive nerves causing her hips to leave the mattress, Sevika creamed on your tongue. You were gentle with her as you helped her down from her high. Not because you thought she was fragile, but because you wanted to show her how much you loved her.

"I'll always be yours, 'Vika," you whispered as you cleaned her juices off with your tongue. "Always."

[pink7princess]

maybe, for a bit.

abby tries riding your (her) strap for the first time!!

┊͙ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ content: nsfw!!! top-ishfem!reader calls abby—“mommy” still, switch/subby abby :333

┊͙ ⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚ authors note: this is a tad short but it’s abby so likeee (the goodie goodness!!!) this is inspired from this twitter sfm...i know, i know, owen is there…MEGA YUCK. but!!! stay with me now. imagine you in his place. GOD DAMNNNN WATCHING HER PRETTY PINK ASS BOUNCE ON IT AHHHHH mommy lemme hit fr :p

ᴺᴼᵂ ᴾᴸᴬᵞᴵᴺᴳ♫♬♪: scream my name—thomas larosa

abby had a rough day at the gym today. and shit, school (college!au) was kicking her ass too. but—gladly, the semester was almost over. she really really needed to blow off some steam. she was constantly exhausted and made a fuss about everything from being overwhelmed 24/7. now, abby’s pouting as she struggles to use the right key on the lock of your shared apartment. you hear the jangling of her keys outside the front door as you relax on the couch, legs propped up, sipping iced tea with glossed lips around the straw. your eyes, glued to your phone screen, scrolling & reading wlw webtoons. you’ve been waiting for abby to watch a movie or a show tonight, because like the sweet girlfriend you are—you love to ease her pretty mind. but little did you know, she was so whiney and tired…you wanted to help another way.

abby groaned as she stumbled in, throwing her head back, "fuck—baby," she whines with a scrunch of her pretty nose, tossing her bag beside the door. you jerk your head to the door at her complaint, a huge smile growing across your face, "come here."

you hop off the couch, arms open, embracing her pretty body. she’s wearing a compression long sleeve and you could feel her sweat. abby's body is incredibly warm, goodness—you know she must've overworked herself at the gym. you shake your head disapprovingly, “should’ve skipped it today.” she holds your waist close, letting you stand on you tippy toes to kiss her drenched cheek. she kisses the top of your head, “fuck. yeah.” abby’s exhale stirs your chest, making you cheekily smile.

you look up at her with admiration, loving her perseverance despite how fatigued she is, “come on, you need to relax.” you rub her shoulder in a massaging manner, making her sigh longingly. “alright.”

you lead her to the couch, eyes watching her over your shoulder with a little smirk.

plopping on the softness, you pull her beside you. with a silly chuckle, you sprawl across her, head on her thighs and your legs sticking up on the top of the couch. you reach for the remote on the coffee table.

turning the tv on, your other hand rubs her own that she places on your stomach, you ask with a sing-song voice, “should we continue arcane—orrrrr…” your eyes fix on the screen, scrolling through netflix, studying multiple titles. abby tosses her head back on the couch, a dramatic groan leaving her soft lips, “i don’t know.”

you glance up at her, intrigued by her sudden annoyance. abby’s eyes rest shut as gulps preciously. you can tell how drained she looks. man. “what do you wanna do, huh, baby?” you tease, staring down at her hand, tracing her fingers.

“i-i don’t know.” she whispers gently, sounding so soft, “we don’t have to watch tv.” you smile gently, turning the tv off and tossing the remote on the table.

she rubs her face using her other hand, exhaling roughly. you tilt your head lovingly, “want me to run you a bath, pretty girl?”

you flip your body, turning fully towards her, giving her your undivided attention. laying down flat on your side, your hands rest flat on top of one another, resting on abby’s thigh, separating your head from her thigh.

abby shakes her head no, finally looking down at you. her eyes scan your angelic features, painting how she’s so sweetly in love.

“what do you want me to do?” you question, voice small.

you inhale, trying to think, rubbing your soft calves together.

suddenly—you accidentally catch the delicious scent between her legs. fuck, your chest tightens with sudden arousal. her after-gym smell…it always unlocks something primal within you. you don’t fucking know why.

it feels almost predatory how turned on you get…but the ironic thing is—you look like prey. abby constantly tops you. but not always.

you smirk mischievously, sitting up slowly. “hey, abs.” abby watches your gentle body moving, almost hypnotized.

without a word, your gaze bores into hers, seeing past her exhaustion. her eyes crave your affection. but how? ohhhh, you know.

you lean forward, kissing her pouty lips, instantly sticking your tongue in. you straddle her lap, hands groping her tense shoulders. her eyes widen at the familiar feeling, melting into your touch. abby’s been so caught up in schoolwork, the two of you have hardly done together anything in the past month. but, the way one of your hands linger to her waistband will say otherwise.

~~~ ⚢ ~~~

you don’t know how. but you sure know why—abby, an average topper is writhing above you, softly panting curses under her breath. your adoring eyes scan her body, mesmerized by her naked bottom half, panties hung to her ankle and chest still plastered with that sexy compression shirt.

you convinced her somehow, probably by your wandering hands and teasing eyes, on suggesting you could loosen up her nerves. your sexy plea made abby consider it. however—within abby’s quick thought process, you had eagerly scrambled to go retrieve the strap and harness, bringing it back with a huge goofy smile. you wanted to help her. the way she helps you. and—come on, there’s a first time for everything.

abby felt proud in a way. sighing with a growing smile, she nodded you over.

the sight of her spreading her legs to take this big thing excited you.

as you lay in your pink push-up bra—you grip abby’s hips tightly, feeling her warm silk chiffon skin shake under your hot palms. her hips undulate sharply as she holds your torso, balancing herself well. her soft choked whimpers create a tightness in your chest as you gawk at how the fat strap slips in and out her juicy pussy deliciously, so fucking deliciously.

you can feel her burning gaze while you pathetically stare up at the unfamiliar view.

my god, she almost looks like she belongs on top of you like this.

her compression long sleeve is blocking something you need to see. your hands push up her shirt almost frantically, letting her small tits plop out. and oops—abby hisses as the cool air hits her pretty pink nipples, your fingers groping her goosebumped skin. god, the sight of her shirt riding up makes you bite your bottom lip harshly with lust. you lean forward and needily take one of her small plump tits in your mouth, sucking the nip till the hardness softens. “fuckkkk,” she cries out, eyes rolling back with a pant. your soft hands grip her doughy ass cheeks, spreading her pussy lips, letting the strap graze every part of her gushing hole.

you and your desperate doe eyes watch her puffy clit slam against the harness, up and down, the hypnotizing sight making your mouth salivate. an appetizing creamy white ring at the base of the dildo is slicking a jarring white. your gaze lingers back up to her contorted features. her body makes your eyebrows furrow with overwhelmed desire, loving how she’s practically falling apart above you. her strong big body on your gentle one…ugh—it’s just too fucking good. you huff out roughly, brain fuzzing as if you could actually feel it.

abby is so fucking sexy. lord, why haven’t you tried this earlier? her urgent gasps. the way her ass is shaking in a such pornographic way. this is somehow fucking your dumb brain stupid. but, craziest thing is: you’ve never seen her unravel like this—god, it turns you on so badly. because i mean, yeah— you’ve seen her cum a billion times grinding her wet clit against the harness when she fucks you—or orgasming from your sweet tongue or fingers! but…this? the dick she uses to fuck you is so deep in her sopping cunt, bruising her throbbing cervix? fucking shit—your mind is so cloudy with the sight of her jiggling tits and erotic moans.

you love this, damn, you can feel your arousal leaking down to your asshole. however—this type of wetness was…drastically different from your average desire. it seems the need of your own release—is simply faltering, giving way to the rooted desire of needing to watch her eyes flutter shut as she gasps with a squeal, cumming all over your dick. this feeling…you’ve never craved it as much as now.

this is full lesbian intoxication, abby’s puffy pink lips, gaped, head thrown back pathetically…toned abdomen sweaty, her loud slick, heaving chest, fuck, and the best part—her blonde bush. you start whimpering at the state of your shaking girlfriend.

abby’s grip on your torso is almost mean, the plunging strap hitting that velvety spot over and over.

her heavy thrusts down on the strap makes your smaller frame shake.

the way her solid thick thighs ripple against your cute plump ones continuously makes your needy ass wish this could last forever. shit, she looks way too good on you like this. her ass is slapping against your skin, the sensual sound making your heart ache with the crave of wanting to be with her and her only for the rest of your fucking life. abby groans deeply, “fuck this stupid shirt,” making you softly chuckle as you realize the way it was riding up must’ve been gathering heat.

she pulls her shirt over her head, struggling a bit with the sleeves. you laugh a little, hands attempting to help but the moment you reach for her, she finally tosses it on the floor.

fuck.

abby’s freckled muscular shoulders and tender boobs loom over you, creating a heavenly sight. her glassy blue eyes plead such desperation, making you wince with the crave to resolve her pleasure. “c’mere, mommy.” you gently whisper, eyes locked onto hers, smaller arms spread for a hug.

abby leans down, taking you in her arms almost as she does in missionary… and you grin widely, her freckled cheeks coming into view. abby’s soft face had seemed to gather a sheen of sweat, making her glow in such a precious way. the way her face twists with a pain-like expression (raw pleasure) makes your small ass want to.. for some reason…protect her.

this must be what abby feels when you’re beneath her.

abby’s pace slows slightly, her sexy hips no longer bouncing, now—grinding deeply. her begging lips, only inches away, fanning her hot breath, dawns a bright pink blush on your cheeks.

her strong nose grazes your cheekbone as you both happen to gaze down between your bodies and…the strap is buried. inside. her. witnessing the sight together...damn, the new power dynamic you unlocked made both of you red.

abruptly, abby pathetically kisses you, her wet lips gripping yours. her taste ignites an incredible new idea. and shit—you know it so well because obviously, abby’s done it a million times to your whiney ass. her tongue continues dancing with yours as you raise your thighs, lifting her slightly. you hold abby’s waist tightly, beginning to pump your hips up into her, fucking her slowly.

she moans into your mouth, hands resting on your shoulders as the sounds reverberate into the steamy kiss.

you accelerate your thrusts, kissing her harshly as if you were close. you can tell how the tip is grazing her g-spot rather too well when abby’s gentle whimpers become frantic. her breath quickens, gasping sharply, gripping your shoulders as she definitely leaves crescent-shaped indents from her nails. her cream still gathers at the base, blocked by the harness, sadly incapable of reaching your own. shit—you wince with a sort of anger, thrusting faster, wishing you could feel her. you whine softly feeling her heat against the leather. ”fuck, mommy.”

abby pants your name rapidly under her breath, in a panicky manner, whimpering and eyes watering, “i’m-gonna…shit—c-cumming-!” her voice squeaks as her thighs writhe, her body completely quivering.

her voice hitches as her eyes roll back, drool dribbling down her lip from having her mouth parted for so fucking long. abby’s sounds subside, the room only echoing the claps of your continuing hips.

she washes over her orgasm, shuttering, burying her face in your neck, voice quaking, “fuck…” her cum gushes down the strap, coating it a bright white.

your hips gradually move to a passionate pace, pistoning deeply, fucking her cum back into her dripping cunt.

you wish nothing else could ever matter.

your thrusts fully come to a stop, the panting abby slowly moves up, shaking as she lets the strap slip out with a squelchy plop.

abby sighs deeply with a huge smile, leaning down to kiss you lovingly, her sweat on her temples making you feel so glad that you relieved her in a new way today.

“that was…” she quietly whispers against your lips, “we should do that more.” her sexy words make you nod fervently, your tired grin spreading across your bright red face.

“yes, please.” your voice sounds small, lovingly watching her sweaty body with joy—a little more than you should. abby teasingly beams, “you liked that, huh, you gorgeous girl?” her lips brush against your sensitive neck, pecking your sweet skin. abby’s voice was no longer ginger but sensual. her hands push off you as she leans off your lap.

you groan, missing her weight on you. your pretty eyes follow her plump freckled ass, showing a huge glint of patheticness. abby notices and grins devilishly,

“don’t worry, baby. we can keep going.” her voice was sultry and almost assertive as she went to go grab a hand towel from the kitchen, your gaze following her swaying hips and plump smalls tits. holy hell, her pussy is slightly gaped from how terribly the strap stretched her out, damn.

walking back, wiping her sweaty face, abby’s head flickers to the clock on the wall, realizing the night’s still young.

her mischievous stare lands on the gooey strap, smiling back at you, loving your cute eager face.

“can we?” you ask, your tone kind and eyes glimmering.

“alright definitely, maybe—just maybe, for a bit.”

~~~ ⚢ ~~~

chat this was a little self indulgent because i may or may not be ovulating… and worst of all, the wet dream i had after watching that stupid video was ACTUALLY insane🎀 I LOVE YOU SUB ABBY!!!!!

[slowdivinqs]

Tender

Joel Miller x f! reader : 18+ MDNI

summary: giving Joel some loving in the form of a massage

warnings: no use of y/n. kinda pleasure dom! reader x kinda sub! Joel. Age Gap. Joel Miller oiled up!!! Pet names. Handjbs, Body worship ( m! receiving ). External stimulation of the pr0state for like 2 seconds. Edging. Nip play ? Overstim if you squint. ( m! receiving ) Unprotected P in V. Thigh riding. Cream-pie. Can be Pedro or Pixel Joel.

w/c: 4K

a/n: who doesn’t love Joel Miller all oiled up?? Thank you for 320 followers and all the love on Easy ♡ this fic was weirdly hard for me to write, it took me ages to complete! ( and I lowkey hate it ) it's my birthday today ( 19th March ) so this was a treat to myself ◡̈ 🍰

masterlist

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“My old man’s so tense, let me take care of him.” You whisper, nuzzling into his back as your hands wrap around his soft stomach. You feel his hair-covered arm lift to hold over yours, his thumb running along your skin, chilling you with its coldness. He grunts in acknowledgement of what you said, more preoccupied with wondering how you managed to lug the salt lamp down the stairs without falling. He subtly side-eyes you to check for bruises, satisfied when he finds none. Just back from patrol, he smells like the outside - hair tousled from the winds, skin icey to the touch. His nose is slightly red, it makes him look younger : it’s cute. You feel like purring at the sight of him, your man back home - safe and contently tired.

“Thought you’re supposed to respect the elderly.” He murmurs in that warm, gentle voice of his, still eyeing your setup, the couch cushions laid out on the floor, towels covering them, the wooden blinds closed for a warm atmosphere - it looks cozy, you even have one of his soft, acoustic guitar records playing.

“I am respecting you, I’m going to give you a massage.” You stand on your tiptoes to tuck your chin over his shoulder, catching a glimpse of his pretty eyes sparkling from the glow of the salt lamp you , like he thought , barely managed to lug down stairs. He looks so soft, and you squeeze him tighter. 

He’s been working on this - letting you spoil him, receiving love and not just feeling like he only wants to give it. 

He finally moves forward to take off his clothes after you kiss the back of his neck softly, his scruffy hair tickling your nose. 

He groans as he bends forward slightly to shuck his pants and underwear off his legs, shooting you a look when he feels your eyes on his ass, but ,like always, you just smile at him mischievously. He shakes his head and tosses the bundles of clothes onto the cushion-less couch.

He clicks in too many places when he lies down on the ‘massage bed’. His form immediately slumps, and you can hear his chuckle as he plants his face in the make-shift face hole you’ve made for him with towels and scarves, in fact – he starts laughing too much.

“Don’t laugh.” You mutter as you kneel beside him on the carpet, furrowing your eyebrows even though he can’t see it. Your hands meet the warm water inside the wooden bowl, grabbing the soaked washcloth and ringing it. Cheeks flushing, not insecurely, but in the way you do when you know he thinks you’re being sweet.

“I ain’t, this is real nice, baby.” His voice is muffled, and you can admit it looks a bit silly - him lying there flat on his face. “Where’d you even see a massage set up?” He asks, twisting his palms to face up and then down, stretching his triceps after holding his gun for so long.

“That new doctor in the clinic is giving some messages to the pregnant women’s back, saw her room.” 

Joel hums in acknowledgment before he falls silent once more, finally bringing his arms up to rest around his head. The sight is erotic in itself - the stretch of them rising, all the muscles that ripple in response. The soft light caressing every dip like honey in a way you will soon follow. 

Less poetically, his biceps look muscular and juicy, the sight of his broad, defined back making you sigh dreamily. Not dissimilar to the way he does as you wipe the warm washcloth down his skin, cleaning off his work from patrol, even though the sight makes you feel as though you should rather be using your tongue. He slumps under the soothing sensation, letting you drag the towel all over – even the dimples on his lower back. 

You enjoy taking care of him like this, knowing he’ll never do it himself if he didn’t reluctantly allow you. It makes you feel special, that he’ll lie on couch cushions with his bare butt to the world so you can give him what you want to, try your best shot at helping his sore muscles. Giving him some loving.

You grab a little tub you ‘found’ when you were ‘studying’ the doctor’s massage table at the clinic, ready to get your hands on your old man. You feel like a dog with a bone - knowing him, you’ll probably have a bone soon. 

“The hell is that?” He mutters, inhaling slightly as you screw open the navy blue lid.

“Dunno, massage herb. Meant to ‘open your chakras’.” You murmur, reading the faded label, there’s some woman who has quite perky breasts on the label, with colorful circles around her. Seems like a bad marketing take on a culture you’re not aware of. “What’s a chakra?”

“Do I look like I know what a chakra is?”Joel snorts underneath you, and you pinch his hip, making him squirm away from your attacking fingers. There’s a slight layer of separation on the cream, but you mix it around with your finger - it feels nice - cold and smooth. You lift it to your nose and the smell of it almost seems like a bit of a high hits you - like one of those oils Joel put in the bath the time he decided to treat you to a spa day since you’ve never had one. 

“Smells like it could be spiritual.” You continue, and he chuckles the chuckle you know means he’s internally shaking his head at you.

“You’re absolutely ridiculous, you know that?” 

“Magic cream won’t be magic unless you believe, Joel.” 

“I rest my case.” He murmurs fondly, and you can’t help but bite your lip as you eye his back again, those muscles that line his spine : his shoulders. You might be drooling. 

You wish you had a camera to record this, just for your own viewing pleasure on those nights he guards the wall. “It’s chamomile and eucalyptus, baby.” he informs you a moment later.

Your thighs slide down around his hips, sitting on his unfairly sculpted backside. He glances at you, before you’re running your hands down his shoulder blades, and he’s hissing at the cold.  

You admire his freckles you’ve traced so many times, his darker age spots you press kisses to almost every night. Those sculpted, almost renaissance-like muscles shine under the oil - it looks better than anything you’ve ever seen before, and your pussy seems to agree. 

You remember seeing an ‘adult video’ in Eugene’s bag when you were a few years younger - both the partners had copious amounts of oil on them, and you kind of liked it, even if Eugene ripped it away and told you it wasn’t for 17 year olds - he was being a hypocrite, because he still gave you weed to enjoy with your then boyfriend. You’re giddy at the idea of seeing Joel fully slicked with a similar substance, even if it’s years later, the memory stuck with you.

You start off with his lower back - the place you know gives Joel the most trouble, especially after he’s given you a thorough pounding for three hours : lifting your ass up to his face while your tits are smashed against the mattress - stretching you while he bends over to lick. He loves the disgustingly whorish arch of your back he creates whenever he does this. Commanding you sit on his face after that - bending you over the kitchen table to rut into you. He even held you up against a tree on patrol once, thrusting into you. 

That one was the worst idea he’s had in a while. He’ll try and rub his lower back for days, insisting it’s not that bad and he doesn’t need your help. Even now when you’re just spreading oil, you can feel the knots under his skin.

He hums as your hands find the space between his neck and shoulders, massaging in slow circles as you feel all of his tension. Sliding down to rub in whale-tail movements - releasing. He goes quiet underneath you when you work it out with your hands. Taking your time to ensure the area is thoroughly tended to, before trailing them up along the muscles of his back and wide shoulders. 

You must spend an hour massaging his back, the cream has clearly soothed him - but nothing about you has been soothed. Ever since he woke up from falling asleep  about 30 minutes ago, he’s been moaning his appreciation. 

Evil, wicked man. 

You usually know when Joel is trying to get a rise out of you, but this time you’re not so sure - it doesn’t calm your horny rage. He may be the most relaxed man on earth right now, but your pussy is currently facing the wrath of a tsunami.

Your hands slide down his thighs, the muscle twitches underneath your thumbs as he grows quiet once again : almost pensive to see what you’ll do. You can’t help but grin at the sight of his backside.  He spreads his thighs only slightly, just so you can dig your thumbs into his calves and massage hours of crouching away : his groans and moans are a constant, the way he twitches and shivers at the pleasure and release. 

For a woman who’s currently staring at the semi that’s resting between his thighs, balls looking impossibly plumper from being raised by his cock that’s laying with its sticky tip pointing towards you - you’re doing a good job massaging him.  

He sighs softly as your hands slide back up his thighs, your thumbs slipping further inwards until he jerks at the feeling of your fingers brushing over his sac, watching how he twitches. You don’t miss the way his hands tighten, gripping the mattress. The oil on your hands slicks him up there too, and you finally see the vision you had earlier. 

His cock always looks gorgeous when it’s soaked in your juices, but there’s something special about seeing him spread out like this - vulnerable in your hands. His thick, meaty cock is soon to be covered in oil, but for now : the sight of his balls slicked up is more than enough. When your thumb pushes against his sensitive taint, he lets out a noise you’re not sure you’ve heard from him before, a soft whimper.  His skin is suddenly burning up.

“Honey-“ he rasps quietly when your palm wraps around his length, tugging towards yourself until your fingers slide over his now drooling tip. He tries to look back at you, but your hand leaves his taint to push down his spine, keeping him against the cushions.

“Shhh, baby. Relax f’me.” You whisper, placing a tender kiss to the shiny dimples on his back as he sinks down once more, legs falling open wider until you see that soft place you haven’t been brave enough to ask to explore yet. He subtly presses himself towards you, cock twitching almost as if to gain your attention. His bulbous tip pulsing red-hot like his skin. He’s always flushed so prettily during sex.

He whines when you grip his cock, a real needy punch of air, his back arching ever so slightly - lifting his ass to give you better access to where he needs you desperately. His taint and his throbbing erection. You’ve never seen him so desperate, so vulnerable.

He’d tried to be innocent, to not think about the way your hands were sliding over him - to enjoy the massage without getting turned on, and he was doing well. He was. 

That’s all out of the window now though. 

The slick sound of your hand is far more erotic than anything you heard on that adult video - Joel’s whimpers and moans will be the death of you. 

Pre-cum practically spurts out of his tip when you deliberately press down on his taint, squirming against your thumb. A strangled - broken gasp leaving him. You saw in the medical diagrams on your inspiration-room’s walls that the prostate can be stimulated through the taint - it feels like a safe leap. Regardless of the method, you want to see him squirm and fall apart.

“Baby–” He pants, glancing back at you, at your hands. Evidently, your wishes are coming true, judging by the hazy – almost drunk – look in his eyes.

“You like that?” you whisper, watching his face as you retract your thumb. He meets your eyes, before pushing himself backwards against your hand again. 

You decide you can’t process the sound that leaves him when you press harder- your pussy would explode. You’re sure of it.

“Turn over.” You whisper, because it’s suddenly all too much. The sight of his back, the oil, his moaning and what you desperately want to try with him. He glances at you with puppy-ish eyes before obeying - turning himself. You can’t help the way your eyes stick to his erection that stands strong the second he’s on his back. 

When you flip him onto his back, he blinks his eyes open for one second before you’re covering them with a towel, blocking his sight as he lies there - breathing heavily, making his shiny chest look even better as it expands and shifts. His nipples look pink and soft, his chest hair slicked to his skin. You wonder if he’ll come if you were to suck on the pebbled flesh. You want to try it, but you’re not done having your fun. The power you have right now goes straight to your pussy. 

You slide your hand through his slicked up happy trail like you do when you’re watching TV with him, scratching and playing with whatever hair of his you choose to. Usually he’s all slumped over after dinner, bloated like a tubby cat and purring, but now his stomach clenches tight from your trail, showing off the V of his hips. You can even see the abs under his soft stomach from how tightly-wound he is,  cock leaking copiously - fattened and aching. He looks close to tears, his teeth clenching in a frown that you’ve only seen when he’s lifting something really heavy. He’s close. 

When you wrap your hand around him from this position, you’re rewarded with even more sweet sounds, ones that make you regret waiting so long to hear them. The glide of your hand is smooth and deep, almost massaging his warm hardness. He sounds absolutely broken. His balls draw up and quiver, a choked gasp escaping his lips. You keep pumping, twisting your wrist at the tip with a little shk - watching as his stomach clenches even tighter, head tilting to the side like he can’t take it, the chords of his neck straining as his hands tighten amongst the towels, the way his dick twitches.

You pull away and his stomach clenches, hips jerking up as he groans his protest. His dick bobs and pulses, weeping precum as if it’s crying. 

You don’t expect him to use words, not when his thighs are visibly shaking with the yearning need his body has for release, when his breaths are little whines and whimpers. 

You think you might die right here, and he surely feels the same. 

When you return your hands, you watch his head tip back, throat constricting as your left pointer and thumb squeeze around his base, similar to how your right fingers assume position around the bottom curve of his tip. 

He whimpers slow and pathetic like he knows what you’re about to do to him. His thighs are already trying to move and squirm before you take your hand away, like he expected, to hold them down. 

Gripping his base tightly so he can’t release, yet stroking up and down in small movements against the bump of his leaking head so deliciously his thighs jump up, stomach clenching as his hands fly down to grip your waist - the towel falling off his eyes. His moan is more like a cry - a sob from deep within his chest. You want it to loop forever in your brain, the sight and sound of his pleasure. 

“Y- oh fuck - You’re a goddamn sadist-” he grunts, trying to squirm away and push into your touch at the same time. 

You keep teasing him like that for what must be ten minutes - until you think he might actually push through the pressure of your hand and cum anyway. You can feel the growing twitches of his cock, the way he’s boiling hot under your palm, the way his tip has gotten sticker with every tiny pump to the red underside. He’s a wreck - and you’re surprised he’s letting you have so much dominance, that he hasn’t pushed you off and fucked you into tomorrow. 

He likes this. 

His moans are the most beautiful and pathetic thing you’ve ever heard coming from his mouth. 

“Stop moving, baby.” You whisper, voice hoarse from the hours you’ve been silently massaging and teasing him. He turns his head to the side, shaking it, like he can’t take much of anything anymore.

“Can’t help it.” It’s so broken and shaky as he says it, you almost feel bad. Almost. A larger part of you is so aroused you’re leaking onto his thigh.

A lightbulb must’ve illuminated over your head, because you see the same glint reflected in his eyes - he’s on the same wavelength, and glances at your pussy.

“Then I’ll have to force them down, won’t I?” you whisper - shaky yourself now - as you mount his left thigh, sitting down as you wrap your palm around his bobbing erection once more.

“Baby, fuck-” he chokes out with a broken groan, darting his eyes to the ceiling, until they ultimately roll back and close - he’s trying not to come, even more so than he was before. You rock yourself back and forth against his sick thigh - the oil and your wetness seeping down and making a mess. It feels so good, the friction you’ve been waiting for since you started massaging him. 

His whimpers sound more like he’s on the verge of crying from how good he feels. How you’ve denied his orgasm for what must be 15 minutes. His chest is rising and falling so quickly from his panting he must be feeling lightheaded from it all.

You move even faster against his thigh - wanting to cum too, your arousal is crushing. His hands grip your hips tightly, shaking - rocking you back and forth, sitting up slightly to guide your movements as you squeeze and pump his cock like your life depends on it. He looks drunk - his weeping cock deep red and furious, leaking as much pre-cum as the mess you’ve made from riding his thigh. At one deep tug of your wrist, he spreads back out against the cushions, letting you plant your hand next to his head as you keep pulling on his fat, drooling erection.

Your fingers lock around the underside of his tip - teasing him so heavily with the waves of stimulation and denial he tries to twist himself away from you. Your weight on his thigh keeps him in place. “F-fuck baby, I can’t- ‘m gonna cum-” He groans, you see the goosebumps on his arms - the way his nipples harden - his hands continue to move your hips back and forth, grinding your pussy on him. 

“Wanna cum in you-“ he rasps, just as you feel that delicious twitch of him in your slick hands, his balls drawing up dangerously, and you know you can’t keep this one at bay. “Please, please baby-“ his mouth pulls into a frown, like he’s about to cry. Maybe he is. Biting his bottom lip as it wobbles dangerously, teeth bared as his thighs jump and twitch up and his stomach clenches. He’s about to cum, and is barely holding himself back for you.

You pull your hand away, and judging by the way his head jerks forward then back - his cock straining dangerously as his hands tighten in the sheets. He’s trying his best, holding his breath while doing so. 

He whines - whines - at you, thinking you’re going to leave him high and dry again, worried you’ll leave him with a ruined orgasm after being so kind. The same arms that execute violence without a struggle, the same legs that allow him to fight and move at an astonishing pace are the same ones that are currently quivering and shaking enough your touch. 

You’ve never seen him look this good. 

His breath hitches as you move off of his sopping thigh and  place his tip against your entrance, your own wetness running down his length. He’s begging for you, “Please let me cum.” he whimpers in a small, pathetic voice, his breath hiccuping, sweat dripping off of his shiny muscles. He can barely think about anything other than the feeling of your sweet pussy wrapped around him. 

The noise he makes twists your stomach and your sopping cunt when you slowly sit down on his cock, a strangled moan, breathy and perfect.  He’s whipped - and you can’t believe this side of him was waiting to be tapped into for so long. He’s practically given you his mind to take care of while he floats off into the submission you’ve offered him. 

Three bounces is all it takes, that’s all he needs. Those three glides of your soaked, warm pussy around his cock is all he needs to throw his head back, eyes rolling as he lets out the lewdest moan you’ve heard from him, his fingers blindly reaching for you — his callouses drag down from your belly button, your mound — down until he finds what he was looking for. “I’m cummin’ baby- oh sweet Jesus- please. I’m cummin’ I’m-“ His fingers rub your clit in two little circles and you're cumming with him. 

His cock twitches violently as his oiled up balls draw up - shooting their load inside you with more force than they ever have. He’s jerking forward, holding you against him as his hips desperately buck forward, pushing his spend so deep inside you it has to be primal.

He cums for what must be two minutes, pumping and grinding until the last dribbles of his cum are stuffed deep inside you, his face buried in your neck as a trembles from the intensity, breathing heavily against you.

He finally opens his eyes and glances down, moaning at the sight of his spend overflowing from your cunt, dripping down onto his pulsing sac. 

“Oh Christ, baby. I can’t- I-“ his plea breaks into a strangled whine, “too much.” He chokes out, and you gently pull off of him, the both of you panting. You watch as his wet cock - coated in your arousal, oil and his own pearly cum slaps back against his clenching stomach, a few dribbles of his precious seed smearing over his skin. 

His jaw goes slightly slack as he watches you bend forward to lick it up, pulling you into a kiss that’s all tongue so he can taste it. 

“Feel better?” You hum with a smile as he pulls away, breathless and flopping back onto the cushions. 

“Mhm.” He pants, “20 years younger, honey.” 

“Well good, ‘cause the bath is drawn and I’ve got dinner and dessert ready for after-“ 

You blink and he’s managed to stand and pick you up, hoisting you over his shoulder.

He smiles at your giggles and the fact that he didn’t click a single time carrying you up the stairs. The grin on his face only intensifies when he smacks your backside, and you manage to smack his back. 

“Thanks for takin’ care of me, honey bee.” He whispers to you after cupping your cheek for a kiss, guiding you into the bath with him. He wants to hold you close for the rest of the evening, fall asleep to your voice chatting away while he rests in your arms. 

“Always, cowboy.” 

-------❦-------- a/n : Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed please lmk and reblog ♡

[eridanusco]

All grown up

characters: Megumi Fushiguro

relationships: Megumi x Reader

summary: childhood bff!Megumi and you are off to college. wait, why is Megumi so mad? why is he dragging you into his apartment? an innocent conversation with his neighbor turns into him making sure you know you’re his.<3

warnings: MDNI! (18+), very little plot, porn w/out plot, smutty smut, cunnilingus, nipple play, dacryphylia if you squint, afab!reader, virgin!reader, PIV intercourse, should child Megumi be a warning?, aged up character (18), size kink is kinking, idk if soft dom applies but I’m putting it here anyways

author’s note: This slithered into my brain and wouldn’t leave. feedback is always welcome :)

masterlist<3

“Sh, you can take it,” Megumi murmurs, his thumb stroking your lip softly before pressing in, the pad of it running across your tongue. “That’s it, pretty baby. You’re being so good for ‘gumi, y’know that?”

Megumi’s broad shoulders block your vision, his muscular frame dwarfing you as he leans on a forearm planted beside your head. He watches as tears prick the corners of your eyes to track down the apples of your cheeks, leaning down to trace the tracks with his tongue.

How did you get here? Growing up with Megumi as your best friend wasn’t a walk in the park- meeting at a tender age of five, you hid behind your Aunt Shoko’s legs as she and Gojo tried to spark a friendship for their respective wards. Megumi was a little quiet, a little snarky as your friendship blossomed, always having an opinion on everything you did. Despite it all, you became fast friends, your names becoming synonymous by your middle school years. Megumi and you, you and Megumi- there was no one else, no other friends allowed, and you both made sure of that in your own ways.

Megumi, rude to every boy that tried to befriend you, tore them down with a bored tone and an expression that conveyed how lackluster he found them. You were a little more of a brat- you pushed girls off of swings and lunchroom benches if they dared to try and befriend your ‘gumi.

You and Megumi were freshmen in college, meeting at his apartment for dinner- the apartment he hated, but Gojo insisted on, having dramatically broken down as he vowed that no son of his would ever live in a dorm. As Megumi opened the door, you had been stopped by a neighbor of his- a fairly handsome boy, also newly eighteen, with blonde hair and a height difference that made your neck hurt. A friendly conversation, until Megumi dragged you into his apartment, his mouth in a flat line and his eyes angry. It didn’t take long before he’d stripped you of your clothes, lips and teeth trailing along every inch of skin he bared.

He shushes you again as you whine for him, “s’too- too big, gumi!” He rolls his hips gently, tilting to rub his nose along hers. “Not too big, baby. You’re a big girl, aren’t you? Keep takin’ it, just like that.”

The skin of his chest sticks to yours as he withdraws his thumb, running it down your arm to grasp your hand and pin it to the sheets above your heads with entwined fingers. A dark smile spreads slowly over his lips as you whimper, pressing deeper. “See? That wasn’t so- hah- hard, was it baby?” He asked as his rhythm sped up.

Whining, your free hand rakes down his back, nails leaving trails of fire that cause his hips to snap sharply. “Fuck,” he groans, forehead dropping to yours. He uses his whole body to rock into you, defined muscles of his abdomen clenching as the bed creaks. “Greedy lil’ thing, can’t - ngh- help yourself, huh?”

Sticky sweetness drips from your messy cunt down Megumi’s cock, pooling at his base in a creamy ring. He shifts to his knees, hands spreading your thighs as he takes in the sight with a low groan. He can’t help but swipe a thumb over your clit roughly, shoving his aching cock into you as you keen.

“Such a pretty cunt,” he grunts, almost to himself. “Sucking me in so good, so pretty.”

The hand not rubbing you caresses down your waist and over your hip, fingers gripping tightly enough to leave imprints when he moves to grab your knee and press it up, open over his hip. “Sh, baby girl. ‘Gumi’s got you. You’re doin’ so- ” He cuts off with a curse, eyes clenching shut as he shifts up and forward, grinding down against you in a way that has you both stuttering against each other. "Mm, fuu-uhck," he swears through his teeth. Your gummy walls tighten around him, drool seeping from the corners of your mouth as his fat tip bullies your g-spot, the rhythmic tightening of your cunt almost milking him.

“Hngh- ‘gumi!” You cry, a trembling hand lifting and tangling your fingers in his hair, tugging him down.

He grunts softly, hips stuttering as you thread your fingers through his sweaty locks before complying easily and dropping his head to yours, lips pressing against your neck. He peppers a trail of kisses up to your ear before nipping the lobe in a way that has your fingers curling against his scalp, sharp white teeth dragging over skin and causing your leg to jerk in his hold.

"That’s it, pretty baby," he hums in a soft rumble against your throat. "You like that, huh? You like it when I play with you a little rough?" You whine desperately, a plea for more, for everything. “Gumi- m’so close, please!” You warn, pressing your head back into the pillows, your back arching.

He chuckles lowly into your skin, lips curving into a smirk as you shiver, nodding. “Thought so,” he murmurs in amusement, trailing more tender kisses along the column of your neck.

His hands span your waist as he shifts back on his knees, holding you in a mean arch as his thighs tense with each mind-numbing pump of his hips.

With a low moan, he fucks into you, forcing a high, needy whine from your throat as you lift your arms to grip onto his biceps, fingers digging into the muscle. "Slutty pussy’s gonna come on my cock, yeah?” He manages to grunt. You cry out, your thighs trembling as you quickly approach your peak. “Pleasepleaseplease!” You whine.

Megumi grins at your eager response, hips snapping harder and faster, the wet squelch of flesh filling the air. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy up,” he groans, his gaze fixed on his swollen cock disappearing into your weeping cunt. He reaches again between your bodies, fingers seeking out your swollen clit. With a knowing look, he starts rubbing firm circles around it, twisting slightly to apply pressure. “Come on, baby,” he coaxes, voice husky with lust. “Soak me, lemme feel how bad you wanna be good for me. Pussy’s so tight, feel you squeezing me.”

You sob as everything goes white, your ears ringing and hands scrabbling at the sheets underneath you. That’s all it takes for Megumi to lose it, aching cock pistoning into your gushing heat as his head falls back on a groan, Adam’s apple bobbing deliciously. You feel the warmth of his come flooding you, dripping obscenely from your still twitching walls as he slumps over you, burying his face into your neck.

You both catch your breath, your hands threading through his hair to stroke soothingly as he presses panting kisses to the hollow of your throat. “Greedy girl,” he breathes, nipping at the sensitive skin before pressing his cheek to your chest. You huff an amused breath from your nose, tugging lightly on his inky locks in retaliation. You lay together, sticky and dripping, letting the silence blanket you. It takes him a few moments but he pulls out, hissing a breath as your walls try to suck him back in.

“Told you,” he murmurs, amused. “Greedy pussy.” He presses a kiss to your collarbone before shifting down, trailing his lips across your skin until he’s able to wrap his tongue around a pebbled nipple, a content hum rattling in his chest. He glances up at you, eyes filled with amused desire, as you inhale sharply, fingers clenching around his strands.

“What- ‘gumi, what are you doing?” You breathe, eyes drooping into a half-lidded stare. He doesn’t respond, flattening his tongue to drag over your nipple until you’re restlessly shifting under him. He pays attention to your other neglected bud until you’re whimpering, only pausing to move further down your body, nasty, open mouthed kisses being pressed to your stomach.

“Gumi?” You ask again, propping on your elbows. He’s settled between your legs, big hands gripping and dimpling the plush skin of your thighs. “Lay down, baby,” he urges softly, staring at the way your combined fluids drip obscenely from your swollen cunt. “Gonna clean you up.”

“Megumi, no!” You exclaim softly, face flushing. You lean on an elbow, your other hand coming to gently push his head away. He grabs your hand, squeezing warningly before pinning it to the bed beside your thigh. That’s all the warning you get before he’s burying his face into your cunt, breathing in and groaning in a way that makes your stomach flip and your face flame. Your head drops to the pillows, a soft gasp leaving your mouth as he flattens his tongue and licks a hot stripe from your filthy hole to your clit.

Megumi eats you with a single-minded intensity, drawing back to spit on your puffy clit before diving back in. His tongue presses into you, thrusting like he wishes it was his cock again to draw out any remaining fluids. “Gumi- ‘gumi, fuck!” You moan. “Please- please s’too much, too sensitive, ohmygod!”

He ignores you, stiffening the pink muscle to thrust even deeper into you before moving to your clit, sucking it into his mouth as his hips rut into the bedding. Tears prick at your closed lids, the stimulation bordering on painful for your poor, dripping cunt. Your sniffling and whimpering make his cock throb, his hips thrusting against the sheets desperately as his hands yank your thighs apart until they’re almost flat to the mattress. All it takes is his tongue lapping one, twice, the hint of teeth pressing against your clit and you’re keening, cunt pulsing around nothing. Megumi can’t help but groan, his cock spurting underneath him as his nails dig into your thighs.

He drops his forehead to your soft skin, catching his breath before climbing up to lay beside you. He draws you into his arms, shaky fingers tracing your spine. “Give me ten minutes,” he mutters hoarsely into your hair, “and I want you on my face.”

You barely have the presence of mind to register his words, laughing breathlessly when it clicks. He drops his head back to the headboard with a thunk, his eyes closing. “Fuck. Make it five.”

[midnight-shadow-cafe]

Special Delivery

Pairing: Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

Warnings: Fluff, possessive Simon, arguments, annoyance (spouse and nonspouse annoyance)

Author’s Note: Simon forgot some stuff at home, you are a firecracker if anyone has ever seen one so here we are. Inspired by one of my favs @bi-writes and her younger!wife x John Price fic

Masterlist | Bi’s Fanfic

MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+MDNI18+

It starts with a text.

My Ghostie: Forgot my wallet.

Then another.

My Ghostie: And my lunch.

And another.

My Ghostie: ...And the file on my desk.

You stare at your phone, lips pressing into a flat line. Unbelievable. You love your husband, truly, but some days? Some days he tests your patience.

With a sigh, you gather everything—his wallet, his carefully packed lunch, and the stupid file he swore he wouldn’t forget—before grabbing your keys. You could ignore it, let him suffer, but you both know you won’t.

Which is how you find yourself at the base entrance, staring down a soldier who looks entirely unimpressed with your existence. Arms crossed, legs planted apart, like he’s guarding the last bastion of civilization.

“I can’t just let you in, ma’am.” His voice is flat, bored, like this is the most mundane problem he’s dealt with all day.

You, on the other hand, are vibrating with irritation. “Look,” you huff, adjusting the duffel bag on your shoulder and waving the brown paper lunch bag in your other hand. “I’m not some crazy stalker trying to infiltrate your little clubhouse. My husband, Simon Riley, left his wallet, his lunch, and some other important stuff at home, and I’m just here to drop it off.”

The guard doesn’t budge. “Can’t confirm that without proper clearance.”

Your patience is wearing thin. You exhale sharply, then, with slow, deliberate movements, hold up a very distinct leather wallet between two fingers and shake it slightly. “Alright, genius, let’s use some logic. If I wasn’t supposed to be here, do you think I’d just so happen to have Ghost’s actual shit?”

The man hesitates, clearly uncertain. “That… that could belong to anyone—”

“Oh my God,” you groan, resisting the urge to fling the wallet at him. “If I was trying to sneak onto base, don’t you think I’d pick something a little less obvious?”

You go in for the kill. Flipping open the wallet, you shove it right into his face. “Does that look like just anyone to you?”

The poor bastard leans in, eyes locking onto the ID tucked inside. His face blanches.

It’s right there. Simon’s name. Simon’s face. Your husband’s face.

“…I mean, I still can’t—”

You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose. “Alright, listen here, Private Dumbass.” You shift your stance, letting the overhead lights catch the big-ass rock sitting pretty on your ring finger. You tap it against the metal of the gate for good measure. *Clink, clink.* “See this? This means I can make your life very difficult.”

The man stiffens. You decide to twist the knife. “I may not have rank here, but I am married to a lieutenant. And if you don’t let me through in the next ten seconds, I will personally make it my mission to have you running laps around this base until your legs fall off.”

He stares at you like you’ve grown a second head. “You… you can’t do that.”

You smirk. “You sure about that? ’Cause my husband definitely can.”

That does it. With a sigh, he gestures for another soldier to let you through. “Fine, fine. Go.”

“Damn right,” you mutter, marching past him with your head held high.

Smart man.

——

After waiting at the gate for so long, you storm onto the base with a paper bag in one hand and a duffel slung over your shoulder, exuding confidence as your boots click against the concrete. The guards barely had time to stop you before a sharp-tongued remark had them stepping aside, unsure if they were more intimidated by your presence or impressed by your sheer audacity.

Simon’s dumbass forgot his lunch, his wallet, and a few other essentials, and you’ll be damned if he goes without just because he’s too stubborn to admit he needs you. He might be the terrifying "Ghost" to everyone else, but to you, he’s just your husband—the same man who forgets his keys and leaves his socks all over the damn house.

Walking into the common area is like stepping into a lion’s den—if lions had the audacity to gawk at you like a bunch of wide-eyed recruits seeing their drill sergeant off duty for the first time. A few soldiers are loitering, some cleaning their gear, others playing cards, but the moment they spot you, their focus shifts. You can practically hear their thoughts.

Who the hell is this?

Why does she look like she owns the place?

Did we miss a briefing?

The most unsubtle reaction comes from a particularly cheeky Scot lounging with his feet kicked up on a chair.

“Well, now,” Soap drawls, an impish grin spreading across his face. “And who might you be?”

You don’t bother stopping. “Not in the mood, Braveheart. Where’s Simon?”

Soap lets out a low whistle. “Oi, no need to be feisty, lass. Maybe if ye tell me who ye are, I can help.”

You sigh, shift the duffel on your shoulder, and lift your left hand just enough for the overhead light to catch on the massive wedding ring decorating your finger.

“His wife.”

The room goes silent.

Soap’s eyebrows shoot to his hairline. His mouth opens, closes, then—“No shit.”

“No shit,” you confirm dryly. “And unless you lot want to deal with a grumpy, starving Ghost, you’ll tell me where he is. Now.”

Before anyone can answer, a deep, familiar voice rumbles through the space.

“Don’t need to.”

The effect is instant. The tension in the room shifts as every soldier in the vicinity straightens instinctively.

You turn just as Simon strides in, the mask covering his face doing nothing to hide the sheer command he carries with every step. He looks at you, and even though his expression is unreadable, you feel the weight of his gaze.

“The hell are you doin’ here?”

You plant a hand on your hip, tilting your chin up. “Bringing you your shit.” You shove the paper bag into his chest before shrugging the duffel off your shoulder and letting it drop at his feet. “Your lunch. Your wallet. And the file you swore up and down you wouldn’t forget.”

Simon catches everything with practiced ease, his gaze dropping briefly to the items before flicking back to you. “…I would’ve managed.”

You snort. “Yeah? And by ‘managed,’ you mean sulking around all day, hangry as hell, making everyone else suffer for it?”

A muffled snicker comes from Soap. Simon’s head *slowly* turns toward him. The room collectively holds its breath.

Soap lifts his hands innocently. “What? She’s got a point.”

You smirk, smug. “See? Even he agrees with me.”

Simon exhales sharply, a sound you know is the closest thing to a fond sigh. Then, before you can react, he hooks a hand around your waist and tugs you in, pressing your body flush against his. It’s firm, grounding, and entirely possessive. His fingers spread wide over the small of your back, holding you there like he’s making sure you’re real.

“You shouldn’t’ve come all this way,” he mutters, voice softer now.

“You love when I show up unannounced.”

His grip tightens slightly. You know you’ve won. His hand moves to your hip, pulling you even closer if that was possible. His touch was firm but gentle, grounding you in a sense. You tilt your head up at him, grinning. “Besides, I know you missed me.”

“You’re a pain in my ass,” he rumbles, though there’s no real heat behind it.

“And you’re lucky I love your grumpy ass.” You grin up at him, reaching up to brush your fingers over the side of his mask. “Eat your lunch, alright? I made sure it’s still warm.”

A long beat passes before Simon finally responds.

“…Yeah. Alright.”

Soap mutters something under his breath, and Simon growls, “MacTavish, if you don’t shut it—”

But before he can finish, you press a quick kiss to his mask-covered cheek. His grip tightens slightly, and you catch the subtle shift in his stance. Oh yeah, he missed you.

“Well, my work here is done,” you say, stepping back with a playful salute. “Try not to forget anything else next time, yeah?”

Simon grunts, his version of a reluctant thank you. But as you turn to leave, you hear him mutter, “Get home safe, love.”

As you turn to leave, you call to your husband, “Oh, by the way—told the guy at the gate he’s gotta run laps for giving me a hard time. Make sure he actually does it, yeah?”

You shoot him a wink over your shoulder before strutting out, leaving a room full of stunned soldiers—and one very flustered Ghost—behind.

You don’t stay to hear the response, but you do catch the sound of Soap absolutely losing it as you step out the door.

Hope you enjoyed! Please consider liking and reposting! -Midnight💜

[rafeandonlyrafe]

sunglasses

words: 1.2k

warnings: 18+ only, smut, face sitting, female receiving oral, cockwarming, unprotected sex

your back is pressed against the arm of the couch, feet slung onto rafes lap, his hand resting on your shin, thumb occasionally swiping over your skin, giving you the bit of attention you need to keep you satisfied, even while he chats with barry.

you barely listen to the conversation, using it as background noise while staring at your boyfriend, his side profile making you bite your lip, a pair of gold framed aviator sunglasses sitting atop his nose.

“rafey.” you sit up, bending your knees as you scooch closer to rafe. using the distraction of the girl that barrys been seeing walking up the stairs onto the balcony.

“what is it baby?” rafe hums, placing an arm around your waist, tugging you in until you’re properly sat sideways on his lap.

“you look so handsome.” you coo, bringing your hand to his face, thumb massaging over his jawbone, before moving up, rubbing over the smooth plane of his cheek.

“means a lot coming from you, pretty girl.” rafe says, tilting his head to the side to press a kiss to your palm, before leaning forward and moving down your wrist before bypassing the rest of your arm to kiss your neck, glad that your hair is pulled up in a bun to give him easy access. “what brought this up?” he asks, murmuring into your neck, eyes briefly moving to barry, making sure he's still occupied by his new girl.

“you just look so good.” you take his cheeks in your hands, moving to press your lips against rafes, his tongue flicking out to swipe against your bottom lip. “want you so bad.”

“oh, is that it? my baby horny for me?” rafe teases, not bothering to lower his voice, making you whine and glance over to barry, who is still too wrapped up in his new girl. you think it's cute, that he's found someone that he likes, who seems equally as interested in him, and not just for the drugs.

“are you done? can we go inside?” you don't bother fighting back against rafes claim that you're horny for him, not when he looks so handsome, hair cropped short and skin deliciously tanned.

rafe nods, grabbing your hips and twisting you so your feet touch the floor, standing you both up. “hey man, we will continue this later. feel free to hang out.” rafe glances between barry and the girl, who is now batting her eyelashes at him in an extremely unsubtle way.

“alright, see you country club.” barry nods as rafe grips your hand, tugging you inside.

“this what you wanted pretty girl?” rafe asks as soon as you're in his bedroom, door closed and locked, finally just the two of you.

“not quite…” you reach to rafes face, grabbing the frame on either side of the sunglasses and sliding them off his face. you slide your hands lower to push at his chest, backing your boyfriend up towards the bed.

rafe smirks, instantly knowing what you're craving, what you've been wanting to do since you first had the thought of ripping the sunglasses off his face.

he gets himself quickly into position, lying flat against the bed while you take your shorts off, sliding your underwear down as well.

“been wanting to sit on your handsome face all day.” you admit, crawling up his long body. “looking so good in those sunglasses.”

“gonna have to wear them more often if it gets you like this.” rafe says, licking his lips as you place your knees on either side of his head, hovering your cunt over his face.

rafe doesn't give you even a second to compose yourself, hands grabbing your hips and tugging you down onto his face, smashing your pussy against his mouth.

“so yummy.” rafe says against your cunt, tongue flicking out and swiping through your folds.

you grab the headboard tightly with one hand, moving your other hand to rafes head, missing the long strands that you used to grab onto, but he looks so handsome with the buzzcut you can’t find it within yourself to be mad.

rafes lip wraps around your clit, sucking while your juices soak his chin and face, his hands keeping you pushed down, not even caring about getting air as his kisses over your clit.

“fuck, your mouth is so good.” you moan, tilting your head back. you reach up to undo your bun, letting your hair fall around your shoulder as rafe mouth lowers, tongue pressing against your hole.

rafe buries his tongue in your entrance, flicking the tip over your walls as you grind down, your clit rubbing over his nose while he obediently eats you out. you grab the hem of your tank top, tugging it off and tossing it away as your body starts to heat, needing to get naked even if your boyfriend is completely clothed underneath you.

you take your bra off next, gripping your tits with both hands as you undulate your hips, circling around his tongue still stuck inside your hole while the tip of his nose brushes your clit with every movement.

“how long were you thinking about this, huh?” rafe asks when he pulls his mouth away, purely to tease you. “thinking about sitting on my face while i was talking with barry.”

“the whole time.” you admit, pushing rafes face back into your cunt, letting out a squeal when his teeth graze your clit before his tongue soothes over it, licking wide stripes over your folds. “not my fault you looked so hot.”

you can feel rafe smile briefly before going back to eating you out, tongue occasionally dipping into your hole, but mostly focusing on your clit.

“close.” you admit, grinding down. “so close, keep going, please.” you whine, letting your head fall backwards as you moan, not caring that it’s so loud barry might be able to hear it on the balcony outside.

“cum for me.” rafe says before sucking at your clit, pushing his tongue against your skin so intensely it’s like he’s trying to bury it inside of you. you cry out, back arching as you cum, wetness spreading over rafes face as he licks you through your orgasm, feeling the pulsing of your clit underneath his tongue.

you fall to the side, unable to hold your body up any longer. rafe wipes his chin before rearranging your pliable body, too tired to even move yourself as rafe gets your head onto the pillows. he works the blankets out from underneath you before draping them over your body to make sure you don’t get cold as you cool down from your orgasm.

“wait, rafey, i want your cock.” you complain. you may be exhausted from the intense orgasm, but that doesn’t change your need to have him stretching you out.

“okay, okay.” rafe kisses your forehead before sliding off the bed. “while you nap-” rafe undresses quickly, revealing his hard cock to you, already fully erect from eating you out. “you can cockwarm me.”

you hum out happily as your eyes flutter closed as rafe gets back into bed, pulling you close as the blankets drape around your bodies. you sling one leg over rafes hips, giving him easy access to your soaked cunt as he lines his cock up before helping you slide down.

“so tight and warm for me baby, good girl.” rafe coos, pushing your hair out of your face before kissing your nose, his eyes closing as well before yawning, most likely as a result of staying up too late partying the night before.

it doesn’t take long before both of you fall asleep, legs tangled together while your bodies are joined.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @rafecamerongirl @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645

[wetpussyju1ce]

Alpha!König x Omega!fem reader (smaller than König)

original post

for @ohdrey89

+18. mdni.

könig and his tiny soon to be heat partner are a cute pair. since the day König shoved his whole knot inside her, his brain chemistry shifted and he's been stupid for her ever since. absolutely awe struck w her. he can't help it. now when she's all calm, asking him if he'd be willing to help her fix some fences to keep foxes away from her chickens, as if the day before his mind and whole being wasn't blinded with so much pleasure he felt reborn. she can't be asking him that so… so casual when he feels like he'd die if he stays away from her for too long.

he definitely knows he has some underlying issues if he's feeling this affected by them having sex for the first time. or maybe it's love. he'd like to think it is. because she's funny, smart, kind and pretty, and her pussy is the wettest, warmest and tightest he's ever been in. so yeah, she's definitely a catch. and she seems like she likes him to a degree, because even after their little excapade at the cottage, she still smiles at him and holds his arm or squeezes his thigh when they're all gathered up before dinner in his pack house.

his heart hammers in his chest and he feels his balls throb whenever she bats her pretty eyelashes at him or teases him. she asks him to help her with the most random things, things that require heavy lifting around her own little garden and cottage. and he does it. because why the fuck would he say no?

and she knows what she's doing too, sits on a bench with her chin resting on her palms as her elbows rest on her knees, watching the massive Alpha chop enough wood to last 3 winters, just because she asked. and he's sweating through his t-shirt, the fabric sticking to his freckled and scarred skin under. and she's just taking it all in. the bulging biceps, the big hands, the massive shoulders, his thighs that are as thick as trunks and the bulge between his legs, her absolute wet dream, live in the flesh.

when he's done, he's panting and his t-shirt is drenched, so he takes it off and she grins like the cat that got the cream. She offers him water off her cute pink pitcher, and he drinks like half of it. when he's done. she takes the water back inside the house, with him following her, his t-shirt in his hands. he stands in her small kitchen awkwardly, too big, too out of place for her soft and cozy home. that is until she tells him to leave the t-shirt on the floor, she'll wash it later. and he's about to disagree because he can wash it himself but then she's slowly lifting her tiny t-shirt over her chest, and he chokes on his spit.

His eyes immediately land on her small breasts and he can't breathe.

König doesn't even realise he's already crossed the kitchen and now has her flat down on her dinner table, his mouth licking and sucking, taking his fill out of her chest. And he's moaning, big warm rough hands holding her still as she laughs and moans on the table.

He frantically unbuttons her shorts and pulls the zipper down, before he can pull down her shorts and underwear in one go he remembers his manners and looks up, “Can– Can I eat you out? Please?”

“Yes,” She grins and he doesn't waste another second, pulling her clothes down in one go. he gets his head between her legs, buries it as far he can go, his nose nudging her clit as he licks broad stripes over her wet lips, then shoved his tongue in.

One thing the Omega learned about König is that when he wants something, he does it fully, wholeheartedly, he doesn't waste time with pleasantries. If he wants to eat her pussy, he will, with everything he's got.

The Omega quickly startes to trash under his filthy mouth, she grips his hair and pulls, her legs shaking as he messily drinks her slick between her legs. The noises he makes are loud and wet. She gets momentarily worries he may drown down there, considering she leaks a lot, like so much, especially when he's involved. But all König does is feast on her sweet cunt, drinking out of her as if she was the sweetest thing he's ever tasted, and she may as well be considering his dick is about to rip through his jeans, his knot tingling and ready to swell.

Her mind is foggy, her eyes are rolling at the back of her head as he eats her out and thumbs at her nipples with one hand at the same time, he's not giving her time or space to breathe. With every exhale she moans, and when he ears finally stop ringing she realises he's been speaking to her. Or at least saying something and she makes a small confused sound, looks down her body and tries to listen over the sound of him loudly and sloppily drinking everything she has to offer, and finally picks up something. König is another planet, his brain shut down and all he can repeat over and over again are praises for her, and her pussy; "You taste so good, so good-- So sweet and warm and tight-- Please come on my face, please I want it--"

That's it. That's all it took for her to squirt all over his face, shouting in her small cottage, writhing on her dinner table that she definitely needs to clean later. König is over the moon, unashamedly moaning with his head between her legs, he doesn't give a shit about breathing when she's covering his whole face with her slick, marking him up. He doesn't even realise he's also coming in his trousers, ruining his boxers with a horrifying amount of cum, but he'll deal with that later, after he gets his fill.

[shalomniscient]

feixiao x reader [nsft utc]

"w-when i said we should do cardio after you finished, i didn't me-- ngh--!"

feixiao cuts you off with another sinful roll of her hips, bullying the head of her thick cock already buried full in your squeezing cunt against that one spot that has your toes curling. your thighs tremble as she has you face down ass up on the bed, her large hands squeezing the meat of your hips appreciatively. you have to crane your head to the side to look over your shoulder up at her, and her expression is pulled into one of shameless smugness, a fanged grin wide on her lips.

"what was that?" she teases, snaking a hand down to tease your stiff clit with her thumb. you groan at that, half-muffled against the sheets, and her ear twitches at the sound. "c'mon, you're not complaining, are you?"

with what little brain capacity you have left, you huff, inner walls squeezing around her in a way that has her sucking in a sharp breath. "n-no," you manage, fingers curling into the sheets as she languidly moves her hips, her hips clapping against the back of your thighs. feixiao chuckles, leaning down to kiss between your shoulder blades, along the curve of your spine. you shiver at the feeling of her warm breath against your skin, and then the plushness of her lips, reflexively pushing back against her as you chase more of that sweet friction.

"that's what i thought, princess," feixiao croons as she bends over you like a crescent, one hand sliding over the back of yours and intertwining your fingers while the other continues to work lazy circles around your clit. she's a lot more relaxed this time, some of her energy having been worked off by her training. she's indulging fully in the way your velvety cunt wraps snug around her shaft, fluttering and clenching each time she draws back only to snap back inside. she noses and nips along your shoulders and nape, sucking and biting little marks into the skin there. she can taste the tang of your sweat salty on her tongue, and she licks a stripe along the column of your neck just to hear you whine. the sound goes straight to her cock, twitching inside you, and her ears press flat against her skull.

despite the slowness of her pace, it isn't very long until you're squirming beneath her, the muscles of your abdomen flexing and jumping as your orgasm creeps up on you. she feels it too, a coil low and heavy in her gut and a pressure under her skin trying to expand outward. she trades her long, deep strokes for sharp grinds against you, keeping her cock snugly buried in your tightness. it allows her to target your g-spot with ruthless efficiency, pulling hoarse moans and cries from your lips. her chest is pressed to your back now as she leans as far forward as she can to chase your mouth, eager and needy to swallow your moans in a bruising kiss, although it's much less of a kiss and more of a dance of teeth and tongue. your breath mingles with hers, praise intertwined with breathy pleas of her name, and she swears upon the stars she's going to give you what you want. everything, anything you want.

"that's it, princess," she grunts as she feels you cum around her with a low cry into her mouth, "that's it. pretty girl, so pretty for me, so perfect." your pleasure-addled noises slowly taper off into sweet begging for her, for her to fill you up and cum inside and god she wonders if you know the things it does to her. you probably do, on some base physical level, which is why you so often mewl it to her even when your brain is leaking out through your pussy around her dick. feixiao ruts harder against you, a rumbling growl building in her throat as she feels her balls draw up tight and her heart skip several beats in a row to the time of her thrusts. when she finally cums she sinks her teeth into your shoulder, not hard enough to break skin but certainly hard enough to leave a mark, and you must enjoy it because you cum again, pussy squeezing and fluttering around her length like you're trying to drain her dry. her hips stutter of their own accord, fucking deeper into your addicting heat before she feels the edge wear off, and she slowly lowers herself down on your back, her face pressed against your spine as she pants for breath. she doesn't pull out, not yet, she knows you don't like it when she pulls out too quickly, so she stays within you as you both recover, idly smoothing her hands up and down your sides. when she hears your breathing even out, she presses another kiss to your sweat-damp skin.

"alright?" she asks, and you only make an affirmative noise in response. she laughs a little breathlessly, rolling over with you in her arms so she's not smothering you with her weight. the movement jostles her cock in your cunt a little, making you whine, but she soothes you with another kiss to your shoulder. her hand sneaks down to brush over the bulge she forms in your tummy, and she feels that heat pulse low at the base of her spine, but you're so thoroughly fucked out as it is that she decides to keep it to the back of her mind. for now.

(maybe it'll be a different story when you both make it to the shower. whenever that is.)

a minute later, her wristwatch beeps. right, she'd forgotten to take it off. she glances at it--then grins like a cat more than a fox; three perfectly filled cardio rings shine innocently at her from the screen. she knows what she's doing for cardio from now on.