#i like this little moment it's so warm and domestic despite all the tension in the air

[mirrorhouse]

INTERVIEW WITH THE VAMPIRE | 1.06

[toxicanonymity]

DOMESTICATION

MR. GHOSTFACE x F!READER 🔪 1.8K WORDS SUMMARY: He has his way with you while you're stuck. WARNINGS: 18+ Noncon, unsafe PIV, knife/blood, collar. Inspired by this scene and ask 🔪 Divider 🔪 MY FICS

Down on all fours like the prey you were, you tore the cloudy, plastic flap off its hinges and began to squeeze through the little door. You thought to scream but choked on the air you drew in. With your head through the hole, you coughed and glanced around. No one in sight. Fallen leaves tumbled and scraped across the driveway over the muffled sounds of the party.

No one was coming to save you.

You managed to wriggle halfway out, but no further. In the process of trying, your skirt got all bunched up. The cool air of the garage was hitting your ass, and your lace panties with their heart shaped cutout were doing nothing to help.

He had to be enjoying this. Probably admiring his knife with a smug tilt of his mask. Why was he so quiet?

You stopped struggling, taking a moment to catch your breath and think. He should've caught you by now. Was there any chance he left the garage? Any chance he wouldn't kill you?

He didn't have a habit of leaving them alive.

When you began to struggle again, a weak motor droned awake, making your stomach drop. The garage door began to lift, and the bottom edge of it dug into your stomach. Your heart sank with dread. Within seconds you’d likely be dead or mangled. Seconds, IF you were lucky. The thought of him dragging out your demise was even worse. You had seen his crime scenes.

Your knees lifted off the ground as the door made its ascent.

“Please,” you begged, shoes sliding against the floor.

The garage door creaked as it came to a halt. Your feet pedaled in futility, searching for the floor. You lifted your chest, trying to wriggle backwards. The only way out of this cursed little door-–if there even was a way out-–led right to his knife.

“Please, please, I won't run. I'll be good,” you begged through tears.

Silence. Unlike him.

“I'll be good,” you repeated quieter. "Please, Mr. Ghostface."

The motor started again, and you winced. But the door began to lower, allowing you a moment of relief as your bare knees met the cool, smooth floor.

His footsteps got louder and clearer as he crossed the space. Despite being unable to see him, you knew his presence loomed behind you-–you could feel it in your bones.

Sure enough, two gloved hands gripped your thighs, lifting your lower body for a moment and spreading your legs before setting your knees down further apart.

He made a place for himself between your knees, spreading them even wider. The smooth fabric of his robe pooled over your legs with him between them. He ran his gloved hands up your torso from your hips to your waist, pushing your skirt up further so it was up around your navel. Then, two satin thumbs lightly brushed your skin, tracing the heart-shaped cutout of your underwear.

After a moment of rustling behind you, a gloved finger slotted between your panties and ass. He pulled the garment out from your body, then the elastic tension released with a slice of his knife.

More rustling. His movement made the robe graze your butt. You weren't sure if you were imagining the sound of his belt coming undone behind you, but the thought of it made your face heat up.

The heavy fabric of his robe lifted off your calves, removing any doubt about what he was about to do. You tried to ignore the way your pussy throbbed.

The smooth head of his cock nudged your entrance, then slid wetly along your slit, forward and back. You hadn't realized just how aroused you were until feeling cock glide so smoothly against your well lubricated cunt. The head lingered at your front, nudging just the right spot. Your hips tilted all on their own, and he paused before sliding back to your wet little hole, resting the curve of his tip just inside.

He gripped your hips and pushed forward, intruding into your tight, warm sleeve with his thick, hard cock. Inch by inch, his stiff manhood pushed its way into you, the pressure of his girth pushing the breath out of your lungs. He slid all the way in without much difficulty and paused after bottoming out.

You took a much needed breath.

The skin of your chest radiated warmth. Your whole upper body was hot, despite the cool air.

Your lower body was warm and stuffed.

Two big, gloved hands wrapped around your thighs, then lifted. Your body lurched forward as far as it could, then he pulled you back on him, bottoming out deeper before he let your weight back down.

You braced your forearms on the driveway and he moved his hands up to hold your hips. He withdrew most of his length then squeezed your hips and pulled you back again as he slammed all the way back in. This wasn't bad… he was slow, almost careful.

Almost as though he could hear your thoughts, he seemed to drop all restraint. He buried his cock in you at a steadily increasing pace. You were shaken by just how good he felt inside you.

You bit your arm to stifle your moans, but it was no use. He'd have to hear your sounds of pleasure, as humiliating as it was. You removed your mouth from your bicep, leaving a string of spit as you took a deep breath.

As you inhaled the night air, it smelled like someone was having a bonfire... Someone, somewhere had come outside. Maybe even the neighbors.

But you didn't cry for help.

It was as though the cock in your cunt had gagged your throat, paralyzing you. It couldn't be that you didn't want him to stop, could it? No, you told yourself.

With every thrust, it felt more like a lie.

The rhythm of his pounding made your breasts jiggle. Your arms and wrists rubbed against the driveway, but you hardly felt it. Any discomfort was drowned out by the pleasant stretch of his girth, and the grip of your pussy clinging to his length as it pushed through you.

You closed your eyes and went somewhere else, giving into the feel-good chemicals coming to boil in your blood. You couldn’t tell how much of it was the rush of survival and how much was his dick, but the combination had you hurtling toward the stratosphere. Full, you were packed full. God, it felt good. Even better, the more you let yourself feel it.

There was something freeing about completely submitting to his will. Letting him use you like a fucktoy. Giving in, letting him win, you could relax and let it all wash over you. With your body held in his hands and wrapped around his cock, you felt weightless. There was no longer pressure to fight back or flee. The only pressure was low in your gut, building toward something unthinkable. Closer with each heavy stroke.

You spasmed with a whimper.

He abruptly sped up to jackhammer pace, pushing you to the brink within seconds. You rode that edge for longer than you thought anyone could keep up that pace. You remembered to breathe, and then you saw stars. The hair on your neck stood up as you clung to the ethereal force that rippled through your loins. Pleasure shot through your core to each limb.

He slowed down as you clenched around him, then bottomed out deeper. It was like he’d created more space in you and packed it with more cock than you ever thought you'd take.

Until the warmth began to spread inside, you didn't realize he was coming. He had given no outward indication of it. You could hardly distinguish your throbbing from his, until yours faded and he was still twitching.

The grip of his hands eased up as he finished. He held you with your ass flush against his wiry hair, anchoring you. Plugging you.

After a minute, it started to feel colder outside. You felt more exposed, vulnerable, but still dared to imagine he might leave you alive.

One hand let go of you, and his robe shifted, brushing the back of your thigh. He pulled back your ruined underwear again. This time, he cut through the side and took it all the way off. Then, the surprisingly warm flat of his blade pressed against the side of your butt cheek. It slid up over the curve of your flesh.

Your heart pounded, reminding you to fear for your life.

The metal left your skin, only for the point of the blade to then prickle the center of your lower back. He held you still, and his cock twitched inside you as he began to draw blood.

You pleaded, “don't," but your insides throbbed.

A sharp, white heat followed the blade, curving upward, out, and down toward your crack. He repeated it on the other side to complete the heart. Your ears burned and pounded with their own pulse. Your inner ears began to ache.

Finally, his cock slid out of you, and after a moment of jostling, he got out from between your legs. Then, facing your side, his robe grazed your back as he hovered over you and grabbed hold of your waist. He tugged gently. You extended your arms in front of you and held them together as he pulled you back into the garage. warm blood trickled into your crack as you sat up. His gloved thumb smeared it upward.

Clear snot was coming out of your nose. You sniffed and he wiped that too, with a knuckle.

Holding his knife, he showed it to you as he stood up. He crossed the garage in just a few strides while you obediently sat back on your knees, adjusting your bra and fixing your hair.

He returned with his hands full.

Your face fell blank when you looked up to see a collar with a leash hanging off it. Your lips parted, but no sound came out. He tilted his head, then stooped down to reach around your neck and fasten the it. The arms of his robe created a curtain of darkness as he adjusted the buckle and tested the tightness with two fingers between it and your neck.

He stepped back, holding the leash, and tilted his mask, waiting. There was something else in his other hand. He clicked it, then tossed it aside as the garage door began to rise. He reached down and helped you up. Then, he walked you down the driveway and into the night, with a warm mess trickling down your thighs.

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thank you for reading 🖤

and tysm for your comments and asks 🙏the feedback and encouragement really helps me.

[gtgbabie0]

-Liu Kang x Reader

{A soft moment between you and Liu Kang}

Super fluffy and very domestic!! Hope you enjoy my lovelies! 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

Evenings in the Shaolin monastery never fail to take your breath away, how the pink and orange hues from the setting sun seem to bleed together, casting its warm light across the horizon. You admire the beauty of the scenery from the quaint little space you found. Hidden away from the other monks, a small open room lit by candles, where you could enjoy some tea in peace.

You allow your mind to drift as you take a deep breath, taking in the sounds of nature and distant water, only to be pleasantly interrupted by Liu Kang as he enters your quaint space with consideration, careful, so as to not rip you away from your meditative state.

“Nice of you to join me” you smile, shuffling to make space on the wooden floor for him to sit beside you, and he does so without hesitation, sitting on the blanket you laid upon the floor, “How did you find me?” You wonder as he looks at you with soft eyes.

“I couldn’t find you anywhere, I figured you’d be here” he explains, his hands finding yours, stopping you from pouring him some tea. “How is your head?” He tilts his chin slightly as he caresses your cheek, thumb soothing the space under your eye.

You had told him you weren’t feeling all too well this morning, way before he left to help Raiden and Kung Lao with whatever needed their attention around the Shaolin Temple. He had offered to look after you, the ever-caring man that he was, but yet his duties called him and he was whisked away from you.

Liu Kang can’t help but smile as you lean into his warm hand, the fabric of his bandages are rough against your skin but that doesn’t stop you. “A lot better than this morning” you hum, fingers wrapping around his wrist, gently bringing his hands down to your lap.

“Nothing some ginger tea couldn’t help” You begin unwrapping the bandages from his hands ever so carefully. He relishes in the way it feels, almost as if the tension from him unravels along with the tough cloth. You take a moment to run your fingertips across his slightly calloused palms, making a mental note to buy more hand cream.

The absence of the sun brings a cold chill, one that causes a shiver to run down your spine. Liu Kang notices, and with a soft frown, he reaches from behind you, picking up the knitted shawl and draping it over your shoulders before pressing a kiss to your cheek.

“Mhm, I am glad to hear” he whispers, shuffling to sit behind you. He wraps his arms around your waist, resting his chin on your shoulder as you continue to drink the warm liquid. “Tomorrow I am all yours my heart, the two of us can do whatever you please,” he says and you don't have to look at him to know there's a smirk on his lips.

His chest blooms with warmth at the way you giggle, a sound Liu Kang couldn’t possibly ever get bored of, “Whatever I please? Hmm, you might come to regret saying that” There’s a certain playfulness in your words that only drives Liu Kang to hold you tighter, peppering your shoulder with soft kisses.

“Learn from it… perhaps, but regret I could never, every moment with you is deeply cherished” his words carry a certain weight to them, something that doesn’t go amiss as his lips continue to playfully trail up towards your jaw.

“Like you learned from the baking incident?” you remind him of the series of unfortunate events all over again. How the sweet treat ended up being terribly charred and completely inedible. You can feel Liu Kang's chest rise and fall from behind you as he laughs, calloused hands slipping into your own.

“Yes, I learned not to let you distract me” he teases, thumb soothing along your knuckles. Another gust of wind pushes through the trees, and you’re thankful that the god of fire is sitting behind you, holding you close to him. But despite his warm presence, he still notices the goosebumps that invade your body and the slight shiver that crawls through your spine.

“Let’s go home before you catch a cold” he whispers, lips grazing against your ear before standing up. The loss of his warmth hits you suddenly, and you are made very aware of the autumn winds. Liu Kang helps you to your feet, and with linked arms, the pair of you make your way home.

The rest of the night he spends practically glued to your hip, touching you in any way he possibly can and true to his words, the next day is spent doing whatever you please.

[idiotgojo]

Hello, hope you're healthy! If it's not too much trouble, can I request an angst to fluffy scenario with Toji, with a fem/gn S/O who has a mutilated face? Something like Sally face that she hides with a mask and everything, and when asked about it, S/O says that her previous romantic partner wasn't so nice to her.

Drink water and get in loser lets ignore Canon together! Take the kids(Megumi, Yuuji, Nobara and Yuuta) and your husbands(all jjk men) and run!

sorry this took a while, hope you enjoy <3

warning; scars, s/h, insecure reader, drunk ex, domestic violence(?), hurt comfort to fluff

It was quiet on the rooftop, and the night air was cool as it drifted around the two of you. After a simple but sweet date, you and Toji found yourselves sitting side by side, legs dangling over the edge of the building. The city was alive below and everything felt peaceful.

You pulled your jacket tighter around yourself, your mask still firmly in place as you stared at the skyline. Toji leaned back on his hands, his gaze flickering between you and the view. You could sense something was on his mind, the usual ease between you both replaced by a subtle tension. He wasn't the type to press or pry, but tonight, it seemed like he couldn't hold it in any longer.

"…Why do you always wear that thing?" His voice was quiet, almost careful, like he didn't want to push too hard. He kept his eyes forward, not looking directly at you.

You stiffened slightly, your fingers tightening around the fabric of your jacket as the question you had anticipated finally surfaced, making the words feel harder to form. "I don't like talking about it," you began, your voice softer than usual, feeling the weight of his gaze shift fully toward you despite the silence between you. Toji remained quiet, waiting that somehow made it easier to continue, even though the subject felt like a raw wound. "It's not… something I share with many people."

"My ex," you said, the words tumbling out slowly. "He did it. He was drunk, angry. It wasn't the first time, but… that night was worse."

The silence between you stretched, but it wasn't uncomfortable. Toji shifted slightly beside you, his hands resting on his knees as he leaned forward, his expression unreadable. You felt exposed, vulnerable in a way you hadn't expected, but something about the way he was just there—solid and steady—made it bearable.

"I've worn the mask ever since. It just… feels easier to hide."

Toji exhaled quietly, his jaw tightening for a brief moment. "You don't need to hide from me," he said, his voice low but firm. There was an edge of protectiveness in his tone, simultaneously a softness you rarely heard from him. "That bastard isn't here. I am."

You swallowed hard, his words sinking in, but the vulnerability wasn't as suffocating as before. You'd shown him your face before, but now with more comfort and less anxiety, you took off the mask. A small part of you decided you didn't need it around him.

"It's not easy," you mumbled, eyes on the city lights. "Some days, it's all people see. I try not to let it get to me, but…"

Toji's gaze stayed on you. "But?"

You sighed softly. "But then I see how you look at me, and I don't feel so… different."

In silence, Toji's hand found yours, warm and calloused, a simple gesture that made your chest feel lighter. "Good," he said, almost gruffly. "'Cause I'm not in the mood for babysitting your self-esteem." He smirked, squeezing your hand gently.

You chuckled at his bluntness, but it was the exact response you needed. "Wow, romantic as ever." you say eyes going wide, eyebrows lifting mockingly.

"Hey, you knew what you were getting into," he teased, his lips twitching into that familiar half-smile. His eyes softened just a little, enough to make your heart flutter. "Besides, if anyone says somethin about your face again, I'll handle it. Personally."

You rolled your eyes, but a smile tugged at your lips. "I don't think punching people is the answer to everything, Toji."

"No?" he tilted his head playfully. "Guess it depends on who's asking."

You both laughed quietly, the tension that had been there earlier completely dissipating. It was the little things—like the way his hand never left yours, the way his eyes stayed soft whenever he looked at you—that reminded you he cared, even if he didn’t always say it.

"Thanks," you murmured, leaning your head against his shoulder.

"You do not have to thank me for not being an asshole."

[you-heard-what-i-meant]

Triple Frontier - Breathe Again

Just a little cute brotherly thing with the Miller Boys!

Posted on AO3 Here!

When Reader / un-named original female character (referred to only as "she" or "her" throughout) has an asthma attack, Will does his best to help her until Benny can get her inhaler. The Millers think about their unhappy childhood and how it's made them who they are today. Happy Ending!

Trigger Warnings: Asthma Attack. Character struggles to breathe. Reference to anxiety attacks, child abuse, domestic abuse, death of parents, alcoholism, drug abuse and a near death experience for both of the Miller boys.

I don't own the Miller boys unfortunately, and as usual my work is un-beta'd so my apologies for any mistakes!

Please don't repost, reproduce, sample, or lay claim to any of my work - I pour my soul into these works (and yes, it's cheaper than therapy!), and it's heartbreaking when people do these things!

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Breathe Again

It’s lucky that Will’s hands are twice the size of hers and he’s still built like a soldier - she’s gripping his hand with surprising strength, and a less robust person would be feeling their bones screeching in protest. His other hand is rubbing large, soothing circles on her shaking back as he crouches in front of her, wishing they’d found somewhere more comfortable for her to sit than the stony concrete they were running on. Will’s clear blue eyes are alert and monitoring constantly, but his smile is soft and encouraging. Somewhere in the haze of panic and oxygen deprivation, a thought drifts into her chaotic mind - no wonder the Miller boys could have their pick of the ladies… and the men.

Will is grateful she’s not wearing lipgloss, or any makeup at all, so he can properly assess the pink creeping from her cheeks into the whites of her eyes, and the grey-blue tinge just barely visible around her mouth and through her lips. Her free hand is clutching at her ribs so tightly he can see the bones of her knuckles shining pearlescent through her skin. 

At some point he’ll need to make a judgement call - ambulance or not - and no matter how many brothers he’s held as they bled (his real brother unfortunately included), he never shakes the fear that he’ll make the wrong call or make it too late. 

“Hey-“ his soft voice filters in through her ringing ears, her eyes snapping up to meet his. “ - Breathe with me, c’mon.” He manages to loosen her grip on his hand just enough to press her palm flat against his chest with his own hand over the top, and starts to take exaggeratedly slow, deep breaths. He focuses on keeping his heart rate as slow and steady as he can - a skill that he’s finely honed in his years spent behind a rifle.

Their eyes are still locked, his face relaxed despite the tension of the situation, his blue eyes crystal clear. There’s always something almost mischievous in his eyes, a kind of twinkle like he’s about to make a joke or flirt with you.

Somewhere in the back of her mind she starts to register the steady, strong thumpa-thumpa-thumpa of his heart under her palm, the flexing and relaxing of the firm muscles of his chest as he breathes. And he’s so warm. It’s captivating, and for a moment she’s not so focused on the way her lungs are convulsing and seizing inside her or the feeling of a strap being pulled painfully, crushingly tight around her ribs, or the immediate fear of oh God I’m suffocating I’m going to die. No doubt this was Will’s intention, as he notices the tiny change in her and murmurs soft affirmations that fan his breath across her face. 

The almost intoxicating spell is broken by Benny’s running footsteps as he approaches from Will’s left, and the next second the younger man is dropping to a crouch beside them. His voice has a barely-detectable frantic edge under the steady exterior that’s been trained into him by the military - Will is better at hiding his emotions, controlling his fear, keeping his voice absolutely calm and even.

“The bag was in the locker like you said, took me a minute to find this though-” he’s holding out a small plastic inhaler, shaped like an “L” and with her name and date of birth identified on the printed label on the side. “- this was the only one in there.”

“Great, can you-” Will begins, but Benny is already yanking the cap off the inhaler and holding it out. “- Thanks. Alright…” 

Will’s hand leaves her back and takes the little device, giving it a hearty shake for a few seconds, before holding it out towards her. Her hand shakily releases its grip on her ribs and grabs the inhaler, Will’s long fingers curling around her own to steady it as she forms her lips around the mouthpiece. As she depresses the little canister protruding from the top, both Millers watch her intently. The hiss of the inhaler is somewhat lost in the rasping pull of her breath as struggles draw the medicine into her lungs. Will’s fingers tighten slightly on her own and gently pull the inhaler away from her lips. 

“Try and hold it in -” she manages maybe 2 seconds before her breath huffs back out in a rush, immediately replaced by another gasp of air and a round of coughing. “- Ok, let’s give it a few seconds to start working before the next one, ok?” She barely manages to acknowledge his words with a tiny nod of her head, so focused on trying to draw oxygen into her spasming lungs. 

Benny’s eyebrows are drawn into the slightest frown of worry as he watches her continue to fight for breath. He’s holding the cap of the inhaler carefully in his large hand, making sure to only touch the outside as his free hand occupies itself by taking up the soothing motions on her back that his brother had been administering moments before. A few more ragged breaths pass before Will is guiding the device back to her mouth again. “Ok, one more time. Breathe as deep as you can-” click, hiss, inhale, “- great, hold it as long as you can.”

This time when Will pulls the inhaler away she manages nearly 5 seconds before her breath is leaving her in a whoosh again. He manages to wriggle the device out of her grasp and drops it into Benny’s waiting palm. The younger Miller drops his hand from her back just long enough to deftly click the cap back on before he returns to his gentle ministrations, inhaler gripped tightly in his other hand. Will still has one hand holding hers to his chest, but the other is now cupping her face as his thumb gently glides back and forth along her cheekbone. 

“Great - you’re doing great.” The blonde murmurs encouragingly. Benny’s alarmed by how bloodshot the whites of her eyes are, but his anxious glance at his brother receives the tiniest shake of the head - Will’s silent acknowledgment of Benny’s communication and a response of ‘not now’. 

Their unbreakable bond and  “strange” silent communication is what had made the brothers the US Military’s most in-demand special ops team. They’d always been able to communicate in an odd, non-verbal way. It was almost a form of telepathy they’d developed as Will had essentially raised his baby brother alone, their father killed in combat when Benny was eight and Will was 13. Their mother had collapsed into a pit of grief that quickly led to violent drink-and-drug fuelled rages.

It had finally claimed her life a few months after Will’s 18th birthday. He’d joined the forces, and it had pushed her into a drugs binge so extreme she’d OD’d. Benny was 15 when he’d found her on the kitchen floor.  

Will was legally old enough to be his brother’s legal guardian, and he was lucky his CO saw the potential in him - pulling strings to make sure Will could start his military career and still look after Benny. 

But Benny had spiralled - causing trouble at school, fighting, doing illegal shit, getting arrested, fucking, drinking, drugs (both taking and dealing)… anything to quiet the demons in his head. 

When Benny was 17 Will had found him unconscious and barely breathing on his bedroom floor after a drink-and-drug-fuelled-bender of his own. His instincts and brand-new training had kicked in and he’d flipped his baby brother onto his side, pounding his back and stopping him choking to death on his own vomit just in time. In the quiet, broken aftermath on the bedroom floor Benny had confessed to feeling relieved when they no longer had to sneak around their mother, lest she fly into a rage and Will take a beating to protect him. Will had softly, achingly admitted he was relieved that he no longer had to fear what she would do to Benny while he was at school or work, but that he would always, always take the hits to protect him, forever. He’d had a new danger to protect his baby brother from, but this time he couldn’t take the bruises in Benny’s place. They talked until the sun rose, and that afternoon Benny cleaned himself up and they went to meet Will’s CO.

They’d rapidly risen through the ranks of the forces together, making it to top-tier special ops in just three years. Will made good on his promise to protect Benny too many times to count, but especially 5 years later when he took 2 bullets that were destined to send Benny to meet their parents again. As Benny quietly cried next to his brother’s hospital bed - a sadly familiar situation in their childhood - he realised it was the first time he’d had cause to do so since their mother died. 

Now, with his gaze entirely focused on her face, Benny feels the moment Will starts to relax. A second later there’s an audible change in the sound of her breathing as her chest finally starts to unlock, the strap around her ribs loosening and her lungs falling back into a shallow but steady rhythm. Benny trusts his brother - and his judgement -  unquestioningly, and allows himself to start to climb down from high alert.  

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Will’s hands have moved to her shoulders. With every ragged breath she seems to slump more and more, almost as if bearing her own weight is getting too tiring, and what started as a comforting tactile connection is fast becoming a grip to keep her upright.  

Benny shuffles to sit beside her on the stony concrete, his side flush against hers. He’s blessed with a body that works impeccably well, but knows from experience how exhausting an anxiety attack can be and expects that an asthma attack would feel similar. After all, they’re called “attacks” for a reason. 

He’s used to them from his own perspective, but to watch someone he loves so much fight not to goddamn suffocate… It’s always prickled at the back of his mind that it must be awful for Will when Benny has his anxiety attacks, but now, with the flayed-raw feeling of terror, adrenaline, and helplessness, he suddenly has a whole new appreciation for his big brother. 

She leans into him, and without hesitation Benny lifts his arm and loops it around the back of  her shoulders, tucking her securely against his body. Will slides his hands down her arms and grips both of her hands in his own, folding himself to sit cross-legged on the ground in front of her. He finds himself suddenly captured by her surprisingly steady gaze, intent clear in her face. After a few seconds she speaks. 

“Thank you. For looking after me.” It’s the first thing she’s been able to say since she came to an abrupt halt halfway through their run together, and her rasping voice is achingly sincere. She holds Will’s gaze for a moment, then twists to catch Benny’s eye too. 

Will’s heart squeezes in his chest, and he has to swallow hard around the lump in his throat. He waits to catch her gaze again before he speaks. “Always, sweetheart.”

Benny finds himself unable to speak when she looks up at him again, his insides suddenly crowded with so many feelings that he can’t express them. He’s not entirely sure they’re all his, certain that some of it is the empathetic absorption of what she’s feeling, what she’s projecting. Fear. Relief. The echo of pain. 

It occurs to him that this is how it feels to have a younger sibling. The responsibility. The terror when something’s wrong and you don’t know if you can fix it. 

Their gaze holds for a long moment before he has to close his burning eyes, and he presses his lips to her forehead until he can push down the tight feeling in his throat. As soon as his lips leave her skin her head droops, coming to rest in the joint of his shoulder with his pec muscle holding her in place. He notices her hands squeezing Will’s in some unheard rhythm, feels the slight tremors that run through her body. 

They stay that way for some time, until Benny’s ass has started to go numb and he’s wondering if she’s fallen asleep. He glances up and catches the glint in Will’s eyes - no doubt reading his mind again, and probably sympathising with his own numb ass. After a few seconds of unspoken communication, Will gives her hands a deliberately firm squeeze and Benny feels the weight of her head lift from his chest. 

The older Miller sibling tilts his head slightly to see her face better.  He can see the exhaustion in her features, the way she seems to struggle to focus on him like her brain keeps zoning in and out. He’s seen it before in so many situations, not least with Benny’s anxiety attacks. 

 He smiles softly, waits for her eyes to focus on his own, and gently inquires “How’re you feeling?”. 

“Yeah, fine.” She answers far too quickly. A conditioned response. Will raises an eyebrow and holds her gaze with his trademark raised-eyebrow-smirk. She relents under his stare with a huff.

“Tired. A bit weird, y’know? My chest and my legs. But I’ll be alright after a shower.”

Will’s nodding, as Benny adds “You should probably eat too, and drink some water.”

She nods jerkily and drops her head again. Will catches his brother’s gaze again, and he hesitates a moment, clearly considering his next words carefully. 

“... I know we were going out to eat with the guys tonight, but -” 

Her head shoots up from Benny’s chest, almost colliding with his chin. “ - No, no, I’ll be fine. I just need to get myself sorted -”

Will rushes to reassure her “ - no no no, I’m saying that I’m more than happy to have an excuse to stay in.”

She doesn’t immediately shoot him down again, but neither does she agree. Benny can practically hear the cogs whirring in her head as she weighs her options - not wanting to be the one who craps off their night out, but ludicrously tempted by the idea of a more casual evening with their friends. 

Will exchanges another look with Benny before giving her another get-out-of-jail-free-card.

“Frankie was making noises about getting take out and watching the new Mission Impossible movie on Sky. To be honest it sounds much better than a crowded, noisy bar.”

Benny jumps on the bandwagon. “Oh man, I was praying someone would take him up on that. I’m in.”

Will smirks, keeping with the easy banter. “Why didn’t you then?”

Benny shrugs just enough to slightly jostle her. “I know you old folk don’t get out much anymore, didn’t wanna get in the way of your retirement-club day trip.” Benny fires right back.  

“You’re technically retired too, y’know.” 

“Yeah but we all know I had to do that so the military wouldn’t notice I was letting you take all the glory for my genius.” 

Will outright laughs, and Benny feels the slight tremor of her giggle through the side of his body as he beams at their success. 

His grin softening, Will ducks his head to catch her gaze again. 

“You ready to head back?”

When she nods and starts to untangle herself from Benny, he jumps in to assure her.

“Hey now, there’s no rush -“

“-Nah my ass has gone numb.” She murmurs, gratefully accepting the two pairs of hands that help her to her feet and steady her when she sways slightly, her eyes going unfocused for a moment. 

“One of us can carry you -“

Benny never gets to finish his sentence. “- no no, I can walk.” She smiles sheepishly. “Thanks though.”

They both nod, but neither completely let go of her as they begin a steady trudge back to the Gym they set out from God only knows how long ago.

=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-=-

Thanks for reading!

There may or may not be an alternative version of this scene in which we learn a lot more about the original female character, but it's currently banging around in my head and my spicy brain takes months to actually work through these things, so please keep checking back!

[seokka0o]

I was thinking a little bit too much about hyunsoo these days and I feel that I have the right to blame it on you... Like, the triplex that you rented in my mind??? I wish you could do a scenario with him and morning sex, I don't know, I'm feeling very domestical these days

ᴏʀᴀɴɢᴇ ᴊᴜɪᴄᴇ

Contain: unprotected sex ; mutual masturbation

0.6k

The first dawn of the day, the fresh breeze giving the beginning of spring, some say that the most beautiful color is that of the morning, clear and blue sky, or of the night, dark and bright.  For you it was the sunset, orange, vibrant, like hyunsoo's hair color, you would never be able to change your mind, not even if one day he changes to dark hair, your favorite will always be orange, the color of dusk.  You are never able to measure it,  when you open your eyes and without even saying a word you are already in his arms, feeling the way he kisses you, how he holds you tight in his arms, how he explores your body and between the slow kisses you share, the way your body vibrates with each path of heat he traces, how his hands so singularly pass between your legs to reach your center, touch your intimacy so carefully and dance with you. dry and hot fingers along the entire length, making you moan against his lips, losing rhythm, moving your own hips wanting more than that simple caress he is giving you. You quickly break out of that slow, lazy rhythm and in moments you start to get a little desperate for anything, jumping into Hyunsoo's round eyes, into that silent pleading that only he knows, that typical morning of yours that he loves, the way he you appear to him in those moments and what makes him understand why he loves you so much;  wet kisses over your face and neck, fingers circling your bud fondly;  you felt the heat of his body close to yours, the strength that hyunsoo made to contain his own instinct and keep you fixed close to him, in the morning heat moaning your boyfriend's name softly, keeping your eyes closed in containment of your own pleasure in seeking to prolong the contact between skins.

Despite the imminent need you moved slowly, taking your hand inside hyunsoo's pajamas and touching the stiff member that needed attention, the warm air of the sigh touched your face and then he smiled, returning to kiss your  lips affectionately, adorning and touching the soft skin in a slow and deep contact;  hyunsoo sometimes moved his hips up, fucking your hand, but didn't go much further than that, using it as an incentive to explore your sensitive corners and play with your wetness that grew with each contact.  By then you were already rubbing against each other in desperation, moving closer in need of each other's contact, moaning, mumbling, acting incoherently through sleep and the heat that was building so desperately.

"Soo…i need you please" The sigh of your lips are genuine pleas, you feel everything in you drain away and then he just stops, bringing you close to him in a comfortable position to then enter inside you, making both of you lose your head in an instant, moaning loudly and suffering, your walls breaking and struggling to behave him; contracting, relaxing, making hyunsoo's dick throb inside.  You tangled together, hyunsoo keeping his hands firmly on your waist keeping you steady so he could move, slow, careful, but always in deep acts, with his face on your neck Hyunsoo tried hard to fuck you as long as possible, your fingers curled over the orange threads and you in sync sound, seeking the peak of each other's pleasure, with your insides closing around hyunsoo every time he went deeper, you lost  in each other's skin , kissing, biting, feeling all the energy of the morning drain away.  When the tension drops you find yourselves completely wrecked, torn apart, sweaty and smiling at each other.

[smileysuh]

hazed

🌙 staring. Mingyu & Wonwoo x afab!Reader

🔮 synopsis. tensions have been high for a while, but an edible becomes the catalyst to a trio’d ascension to cloud 9, being a little hazy has never felt so good

cw/ tw. size kink, alcohol/weed consumption, man handling, dirty talk, switch!Mingyu, dom!Wonwoo, oral (f/m receiving), slight choking, face grinding, fingering, overstim, etc…

👹 rating. 18+ explicit I wc. 4k

🍭 aus. collage au, stoner au, best friends to lovers

☀️ mlist + an. weed is legal in Canada and that's all I'm gonna say about that 😂

Just as Mingyu’s starting to think ‘that edible was useless,’ the cookie he’d split with you and Wonwoo begins to take effect.

At first, it feels like warm hands running over his shoulders, prompting him to sink a little further into the couch. Then, the sufficiently stoned man notices the fuzzies dancing on the outskirts of his vision, and when he chases them - Netflix all but forgotten for a moment - the fuzzies become little light spirits that tip toe away, skittering and toying with him-

Smiling to himself, Mingyu turns to check on you and Wonwoo, eager to see if either of you are feeling it like he is-

You’re sitting between the two larger males, your head resting on Wonwoo’s shoulder while you discuss movie genres and scroll through Netflix.  

Mingyu loves sitting next to you. Loves the way his body dwarfs yours no matter what the situation- and he’s never more aware of it than when he’s high.

His eyes slide down your arms leisurely before landing on your thighs.

You’re in little sleeping shorts, and it’s times like these that he really appreciates them. 

Mingyu licks his lips, the haziness created by the weed is making him very narrow minded. He sees things he wants, and he wants them immediately- His eyes dart towards the kitchen - the munchies setting in - and he remembers the food available:

Oreos, birthday cake flavour because Wonwoo thought it would be funny.

Chips, Mingyu can’t remember if they’re out of Ruffles or not-

Beer. Yum.

Mingyu stands up abruptly, and it draws your attention, two sets of curious eyes moving to the lumbering giant.

“Beer,” Mingyu tells you, shuffling over to the kitchen with a one track mind and a body that teeters as it moves.

You and Wonwoo watch him for a few moments, simply assessing his state.

The weed is starting to hit you too, and ‘Wow,’ you think, as you drag your eyes up and down your friend’s form, ‘Mingyu is looking especially tall and thick today.’ 

He looks so good in grey sweatpants and a hoodie, shoulders broad and on display even whilst hidden under fabric.

Wonwoo notices the way you look at Mingyu, and he doesn’t mind.

Mingyu is gorgeous- and Wonwoo’s lived with his best friend long enough to know that most girls find the dude ‘irresistible’.

Mingyu is completely oblivious to his spectators as he leans down to look into the fridge, picking out a green bottle of lager.

He returns to the living room with more speed than his initial move to the fridge, and he turns to situate himself in the corner of the couch so he can look at you and Wonwoo; “Movies?” Mingyu asks.

You and Wonwoo give him a rundown on your choices, and as you watch Wonwoo speak, your eyes seem to focus in on his lips.

He’s so pretty, especially when he’s fresh from a shower like he is right now. He’s been allowing his hair to grow out lately, and there are little curly tufts here and there that make you want to reach out and tug on them- he looks like the perfect domestic arts major, despite the prestigious business degree he’s currently working on. 

You swallow thickly, realizing how thirsty you are.

Turning to look at Mingyu again, you gently take the beer bottle from him, smiling when he gives in immediately to the unspoken request. 

“You can finish it,” he says, as there’s only about a quarter of the bottle left- he must have been thirsty too.

You take your time while drinking, knowing that it would be really easy to spill this all over yourself-

Two pairs of eyes are on you.

Careful to finish up the bottle and get every last drop, you tilt it higher, tongue testing the rim for a second when you hit the glass to your teeth in your haze-

Both men are now pressed into their respective corners, with you in the center of the couch and the center of the attention.

Now finished your drink, you hand the bottle back to Mingyu, seeing the look on his face, and your skin flushes hot from the attention. 

“What?” you ask, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand.

Mingyu watches the action and then his eyes lift to meet yours, expression suddenly very serious- 

“I’m hungry.”

It’s a very odd shift, but you’re so eager to get out of this newly claustrophobic situation, feeling very on the spot- “Do you want Oreos?” you ask while rising to your feet.

“Not Oreos,” Mingyu grabs you with two large hands that ensnare you by the waist to pull you back to the couch-

You’re shocked at first, landing against Mingyu’s broad chest, his warm body keeping you cradled nicely, and you blink while looking into his deep, pretty brown eyes. 

Then you think of his words, repeating them, “Not Oreos?”

Wonwoo chuckles from his corner of the couch, “Smooth.”

But his words barely register, because one of Mingyu’s hands is on your throat, thumb teasing under your jaw, holding you where he wants you while his lips press against yours.

The kiss is sloppy, and Mingyu is eager, teeth clashing against yours for a moment before he adjusts; your friend pulls you to be straddling his hips, and thats when he finds control.

You can sense the shift in the man under you when his hands prompt you to grind down on him, and even through the lip biting and little whines, your attention is drawn to the feeling of him between your legs- 

You pull away from the kiss, and Mingyu grins up at you from under lazy eye lids. 

“Wanna eat you,” he hums, lips attaching to your neck, tongue tasting the skin; teasing. 

You thread your fingers through his soft dark hair, turning your head to look at Wonwoo, who is frozen on his side of the couch. His eyes are alert and he winks at you, flashing a soft smile to match his friend’s that has you swallowing thickly.

“Enjoying the view?” you ask, words coming out more shaky and slurred than you intended; the weed has you seeing stars, and Mingyu’s lips on your neck aren't making thinking any easier. 

Wonwoo hums a sound of affirmation and you watch him get more comfortable in his seat, a deep sigh of contentment leaving his lips. It’s obvious he has nowhere to be and no plans to speed things up.

The business major seems happy with just watching… and you kind of love it.

You turn your attention down to Mingyu, who is still sucking on your collarbones with a fevered greediness. When you rut your hips against him, Mingyu groans, fingers digging into your hips before releasing again.

“Thought you wanted to eat,” you tease.

Mingyu adjusts you quickly for a stoner.

Somehow, he wraps you in one arm and manages to stand and throw you on the couch. He clammers down to his knees less than elegantly, but the way his eyes light up as he pushes your legs open and drags you to the side of the cushion makes up for it. 

“Off,” he says, eyes fixed on your core, which is hidden by the sleeping shorts he’s now toying with, tugging at the fabric. 

You lift your hips, and the shorts are torn from your body, leaving you in underwear and a hoodie. When you settle again, the first thing your friend does is push your legs open, swallowing thickly while taking in the panties sticking to your hot core.

“Mingyu-” you begin to close your legs, starting to feel embarrassed and a little unsure of yourself- 

Are you being hasty? Are you really about to fuck your best friend? Are you going to fuck both of them?

“I just-” Mingyu frowns and then brings both his hands up in front of his face, making something like a ripping gesture- 

“He needs help taking your panties off,” Wonwoo says with a laugh, he’s always been able to translate ‘Mingyu gestures’ into words.

You nearly melt; “Are you serious?”

“I don’t want to rip them, but they’re in my way,” Mingyu whines, pouting and pushing his face into your thigh. “Take them off.”

“Push them to the side,” Wonwoo suggests. “Unless you’re not that hungry.”

“I am,” Mingyu says immediately, glaring at Wonwoo. “Starving,” he draws out the word and nuzzles his face against your thigh, nipping at your skin.

“Prove it,” Wonwoo responds, “or maybe I’ll start to think I want it more.”

You groan at his words, hips shifting up, attention focused on the man between your legs “Mingyu- please-”

His big eyes look up at you, and he presses a sloppy kiss to your inner thigh, “do you like it when Wonwoo Hyung talks about wanting you too?” 

A sound of affirmation leaves your lips but you can’t find it within yourself to speak, too overwhelmed by Mingyu between your legs and his hair tickling your skin when he presses another kiss even closer to your heat- 

You take your hoodie off-

“Are we sure we should be doing this?” Wonwoo asks suddenly, and it makes both you and Mingyu look at him with confused expressions at the change of pace. “I mean,” Wonwoo shifts closer, looking you in the eyes, “we’ve both wanted you for a while, but I don’t want you doing this just because you’re high.” He cups your face with his hand, thumb brushing your cheekbone, “I don’t want you to regret this tomorrow-”

“Wonwoo, shut up,” you can’t help but laugh a little at his words, “of course I want you both-”

“You do?” Mingyu nips at your thigh again and Wonwoo releases your face to allow you to look down at the man still kneeling on the carpet.

“Isn’t it obvious?” you ask. “Come on- you guys have to know how hot you are- and you’re two of the nicest guys I’ve ever met-”

“So why haven’t you fucked us yet?” Mingyu groans needily, hooking his hands under your thighs so he can drag you to the edge of the sofa, eyes looking up into your own. 

“Why haven’t you fucked me yet?” you ask- only to let out a squeal of surprise when Mingyu buries his face into your panty covered core like - well - a mad man. 

“I’ve been trying-” Mingyu mumbles, words vibrating into your wet heat and making your legs tremble on either side of his head.

“We’ve both been trying to broach this with you for a while,” Wonwoo admits, fingers trailing over your collarbone thoughtfully, “but every time I flirt with you, you brush it off.”

“Because you tease me!” you say in shock, realizing, for the first time, that when Wonwoo had said things like ‘someone is looking cute today’ he hadn’t been making a jab at you? 

“I don’t tease,” Wonwoo insists, even as his digit traces the swell of your breast, “you just never believe me when I compliment you.”

Mingyu is getting tired of the talking, and he puts his mouth to better use, pulling your panties to the side before diving into your core with his tongue. 

You immediately grab at Mingyu’s pretty curls, a gasp of ecstasy escaping you at the feeling of pillowy lips now suctioning at your clit-

“And Mingyu’s been acting the part of boyfriend for months,” Wonwoo says, looking down at where his best friend is lapping at your core and making enjoyable grunting noises as if he’s a starved animal finally having food after a long winter- “the piggy back rides, giving you his jacket-”

“He’s just-” your voice catches as Mingyu pushes a finger into your core, “he’s just nice like that-”

“Baby,” long, cold fingers encircle your throat, and Wonwoo prompts you to look him in the eye when he says, “nobody is just nice like that.” 

It’s the most you can do to let out a small needy sound before you’re removing one hand from Mingyu’s hair to thread it through Wonwoo’s instead, pulling his lips to your own. 

You’re shocked by the differences in the way each man has pressed his lips to yours- Wonwoo kisses you like a man who knows what he wants, a man savouring the moment, even as you let out whimpers of need-

“You’re really worked up, huh?” Wonwoo chuckles against your lips, and you nod, tugging at his hair again in an effort to drag him back to you. 

It feels amazing to have both of their mouths on you at once- and Wonwoo’s kisses become rougher the more needy you get, his body responding to your growing insatiability-

“Wonwoo-” you whimper when you feel your orgasm building, Mingyu’s mouth working lewdly and noisily at your clit-

“You gonna cum for us?” he asks. The hand encircling your neck pushes you back slightly so he can asses your face, and then your friend’s fingers release you, skimming down your chest and stomach- 

Mingyu presses his tongue into your hole, allowing Wonwoo room to play with your clit, and two digits begin rubbing wet circles there-

One of your hands stays in Mingyu’s hair, keeping his face where you want it, and the other latches onto the front of Wonwoo’s shirt. 

“Come on baby,” Wonwoo breathes, leaning in to press a kiss to your neck while he continues to work you closer and closer to the edge- “Mingyu wants a taste, he’s been thinking about it for months.”

The thought that your best friends have been lusting for you for months is the last bit of praise you need to be pushed into pleasure, and a gasp tumbles from your lips, chest arching while you grind down on Mingyu’s face, eager to ride this out-

“Fuck-” you gasp as business major next to you continues his assault on your throbbing clit, “Wonwoo-” your best friend slurps at your cunt and your thighs shake by his ears- “Mingyu!” 

The man between your legs groans loudly, fingers digging into your skin to keep you anchored while you’re worked through a mind blowing orgasm.

And when you’re done, Mingyu removes his mouth from your core with a loud pop of suction, groaning before diving back in with his tongue momentarily- 

“You taste like candy,” he tells you before finally pulling away from your entrance and standing- he looks down at you with blown pupils, and for a brief time, nobody does anything, the three of you simply exist, breathing and taking in the moment.

“We should go to the bedroom,” Wonwoo suggests finally, fingers finding your collarbone again and dancing across your skin, “unless you want to watch a movie.”

You’re shocked at how Wonwoo always stays so controlled- even while high, he’s an eloquent protector, the person who’s always making sure everyone’s needs are accounted for-

“Bedroom,” you respond, and the next thing you know, Mingyu is picking you up from the couch to take you there himself.

Oddly enough, the two of you end up in Wonwoo’s room, and you’re tossed onto familiar sheets, with the familiar smell of Wonwoo puffing up to greet you, and the familiar vibe of a comfortable place you’ve been in a hundred times before.

Mingyu collapses next to you, laying on his side and propping his head up with a hand. 

“You know the way you drank the rest of my beer?” he asks, while tracing the lines Wonwoo had been so enraptured by earlier, pointer grazing over your collarbone lightly-

“Yeah?”

“Can you drink me like that?” 

You’re up an straddling his waist within seconds, pressing kisses to his face while saying, “of course I can!” quickly beginning your decent-

“Fuck- is this real?” Mingyu asks, lifting his hips so he can wiggle out of his sweatpants while you pull his hoodie up-

“I think so- unless I’m the one dreaming,” you respond, enjoying each new sliver of skin revealed on the body that’s been tantalizing you for months- Mingyu works out, and you trace the lines of effort across his abdomen.

“We can’t both be dreaming,” Mingyu decides, grabbing a pillow to prop under his head so he can watch you as finally reach the area he needs you most-

“Do you two want me to take a picture as proof?” 

Wonwoo’s teasing makes your heart flip in your chest, and you look over your shoulder at him while playing with the waistband of Mingyu’s briefs. “Are you going to join us?” you ask.

“If you’ll let me,” the business major responds, one knee on the foot of the bed before he joins you on the mattress, taking the spot right behind you. His hands graze over your ass, toying with the fabric of your panties, which Mingyu hadn’t bothered to take off earlier. “What do you want me to do to you, pretty girl?”

“You know what I want,” you groan in frustration, turning to look back at your own task at hand: getting Mingyu’s painfully hard cock out of it’s confines. 

“I wanna hear you say it,” Wonwoo’s hands massage at your ass, and you let out a pleasurable sigh at the feeling, resting your head down against Mingyu’s abdomen to take a breath and recollect yourself.

“I want you to fuck me,” you say, and Mingyu shivers beneath you, from your words, or the feeling of them on his sensitive skin, you’re not sure. 

“Yeah?” Wonwoo hooks his fingers in your panties and drags them down your legs. Cool air washes over your heated core, and now it’s your turn to shiver- “Want me to fuck you here?” two of Wonwoo’s digits dip into your entrance and you let out a mewling sound, squeezing Mingyu’s cock through his briefs-

“Fuck-” Mingyu pushes his hips up, not enjoying the way you’re both being toyed with-

“Please-” you groan, wiggling your ass in an effort to tantalize the man behind you while unwrapping your own present-

With one motion, you pull Mingyu’s briefs down, and his long member all but slaps up against his lower abdomen. Your friend gasps at the cold air on his hot skin, and you’re quick to wrap your hand around his length, swirling your tongue around the head of his obnoxiously large cock-

“Shit-” you’re a little worried about Mingyu and the swear words that tumble past his lips while your own wrap around his girth, and the hand that grabs at the back of your head is needy, a little rough too-

“Don’t break her,” Wonwoo warns behind you when you gag around a dick that’s much too big for your small mouth, “you always forget your own strength, especially when you’re high.”

A memory of Mingyu accidentally breaking in the bathroom door at a party while high flashes through your mind, and you groan around his cock, turned on by how large and strong the man below you is-

“She just feels so good-” Mingyu moans, throwing his head back into the duvet while forcing his hips down- “baby, you feel so good-”

Another happy sound leaves you at the pet name, and more swear words escape Mingyu’s pretty lips- 

Wonwoo’s fingers are removed from your pussy, and you take Mingyu out of your mouth to protest- just as Wonwoo guides himself into your wet core.

Without Mingyu stuffed in your mouth, your moan at the new intrusion rings loud and clear, and you rest your head down against Mingyu’s thigh, closing your eyes as you enjoy the feeling of Wonwoo slowly pushing into you.

“Oh my god-” you gasp, toes curling from pleasure while you continue to pump Mingyu’s cock. 

“Feels good?” Wonwoo asks, two cool hands settling on your hips, and you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Feels so good-” you respond, kitten licking at Mingyu’s cock-

“Fuck-” Mingyu’s hips rut up, and you immediately rush to give him your attention again, placing him back in your mouth like your favourite lollypop, and suckling on him for all you’re worth-

“Holy shit-” he continues to cuss, and he thrashes a little under you, abdomen tensing when he sits up abruptly to tear his hoodie and shirt off, leaving him bare to the room. Mingyu’s skin is flushed a pretty shade of pink, and his large hands find the back of your head, prompting you to take him deeper into your throat again- 

“Gyu, if you’re going to cum, you have to ask permission to do it in her mouth,” Wonwoo clicks his tongue in a way that’s almost condescending- and you moan a little at his words, realizing - like he had - that Mingyu is achingly close to coming undone-

“God-” fingers tense in your hair, and Mingyu pulls you off his length, “can I cum in your mouth? Please?”

“Uh huh!” you respond with sounds of affirmation, too enraptured in the moment and in the feeling of being their needy little cock whore to even speak proper words- 

Instead, you wrap your mouth around Mingyu again, gripping the base of his length to pump what you can’t fit past your lips-

“Holy fuck-” Mingyu groans loudly, one hand grabbing at the sheets-

“Keep sucking baby,” fingers dig into your hips and Wonwoo’s words make your pussy throb around his cock, which continues to glide in and out of your wet heat, “I wanna see you giving him everything you have.”

There’s something about Wonwoo being the watcher, the one in control, that makes this whole drug fuelled sin scene feel much dirtier in the best of ways-

You can give up any thoughts or worries, can give in to the primal instinct that has you sucking on Mingyu like a life line while Wonwoo continues to rail you from the back- because Wonwoo has everything handled.

You’re not sure who cums first, you or Mingyu, but you pussy clamps onto Wonwoo with a vice grip at the same time your senses explode with a manly muskiness that courses down your throat. 

Fingers dig into your hips, and the sound of throaty moans and skin on skin carries you through the wonderful, lusty haze that comes with a stoned orgasm. 

You do your best to continue working Mingyu with your mouth until he’s gasping and whining, pulling you off his cock forcefully- 

Opening your eyes to look up at your friend, you get an amazing view of taught muscles and flushed skin-

Likewise, Mingyu is enthralled by the fucked out expression on your face, the saliva coated lips and the spit bridge connecting your mouth to the head of his cock, which is still aching with need-

Behind you, Wonwoo lets out a grunt, thrusts faltering, and it’s enough to clue Mingyu into the fact that his hyung has finished too. 

In the wake of pleasure, the three of you need a moment of recuperation, and in those quiet moments, where all that can be heard is heavy breathing, Mingyu feels most at peace. 

There’s no judgement, no complications, no worries about one position being more sexy than the other, or if someone has a few love handles- all that matters to Mingyu is the heat of his skin where you’re touching him, and the feeling of your breath as it stirs goosebumps to the surface of his thighs-

Mingyu swallows thickly, eyes trailing over your form while blood begins to rush down to his cock again- 

He’d gotten one thing checked off his bucket list: finding out what you taste like, and now, he’s eager to get another dream scenario completed: he wants to feel your velvety walls wrapped tight around his cock while he fucks you into Oblivion- 

And as he watches you and Wonwoo adjust, your own arm raising with pleasured goosebumps after the brush of Wonwoo’s fingers across your shoulder, Mingyu knows his night is just beginning…

✘ thanks for reading :) ✘ Please find the teaser for the accompanying patreon exclusive extension of this fic below :)  ✘  if you liked this fic, you might also enjoy ‘Hit’ with stoner!vernon

✘ [extension synopsis]: you wake up after a wonderful night with your two best friends- except one of them is feeling a little off, and you’re determined to show him you have space in your heart for more than just Mingyu

✘ [warnings]: oral (m receiving), dirty talk, pet names, exhibitionism, deep throating, mentions of somnophilia/threesomes, etc…

✘ [pairing]: Wonwoo x afab!reader ✘ [word count]: 1.5k - 250 words shown in teaser ✘ [genre]: 18+ smut

You’ve woken up in Wonwoo’s bed before, but never like this; never nude, and wrapped in a tight embrace, Mingyu’s small snores sounding in your ear with each sleepy breath he takes. 

Usually, when you pass out here after getting too drunk or high or just too tired to go home, you wake up to Wonwoo laying flat on his back on his designated side of the bed, but today, he’s not there. 

You frown at the loss of one of your friends, even as Mingyu adjusts behind you, nuzzling into the back of your neck-

You’ve spent the night here enough to know that Mingyu needs much more sleep than his elder roommate, and with the shock of waking up Wonwoo-less, there’s not a chance in the world that you’ll be drifting back to dreamland any time soon. 

The process of getting out of the bed without waking Mingyu is tedious, but you accomplish it after a few minutes of slow inching until you’re completely out of his grasp.

Once free, you find your clothes, which had been scattered around the night before, and you get dressed. Your eyes linger on Mingyu, who had now rolled onto his back, an annoyed expression on his sleeping face, hand grabbing at the sheets-

You feel a little bad that you’d left him, and he’s obviously missing you- even if it’s just his body reacting to the loss of your heat, but you’re determined to find Wonwoo. 

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[slasherhaven]

Holy shit your insecure Michael fic woke something up inside of me 😂 I absolutely love this softer side of Michael. I was wondering if I could request a piece on michaels conflicted feelings about falling in love and opening up to his s/o? Like just really soft and fluffy, maybe him noticing that he leans into her touch and craves intimacy more etc. I’m just a slut for our big slashers being soft just for their s/o. Thank you so much I loooove this page and how you write for these tough guys 🥰🥰

Michael Myers feeling conflicted about falling in love and opening up:

He couldn’t place when it started...probably when he started coinhabiting with you, when he decided not to kill you. Yeah, that was probably the start of it, right at the beginning, but realisation settled too late, it was unavoidable. 

He could kill you...technically that would end the problem, right? No more new and strange feelings, no more conflict, it would be over. However, the thought of you being gone did not settle right with Michael at all, it made his fists clench at his sides and his jaw tense behind his mask. No, that wouldn’t solve the problem, it will only bring a multitude of new ones.

It started when he spared you, he decided. Then when was the turning point? When did he realise that there was no turning back? He knew the answer to that fairly quickly as well, when he removed the mask around you for the first time, letting you see his face, letting you see the real Michael. The man, not the monster.

It was all unavoidable. You and these feelings...unavoidable. At least that was what he told himself to avoid thinking about why he made each individual decision that led him here.

You had become his partner, you cared for him and he cared for you even if you both showed it in very different ways. You meant something to him, he was somebody to you. You saw him. All of this had been true for a long time, even you had known it, but Michael had refused to open his eyes to it. Hoping that ignoring it would avoid the realisation forever. 

He could let things continue, let things be, but he couldn’t actually wrap his head around it. So, he supressed it the best he could.

The moment he knew he couldn’t ignore it any longer, when the conflict rose to the front of his mind and planted itself there, was when you were tending to his wounds.

It was an intimate act, though you had been intimate together various times before this felt different. It was a soft, caring act on your behalf.

He couldn’t ignore the way your touch slowly eased the tension in his body, how he allowed himself to trust you at all when he had never trusted anyone. What really caused him to linger on his internal conflict was the way he lent into your touch without even realising it at first. How could you have so much power over him?

The thing that really gets him is when you’re in bed and you move closer in your sleep, cuddling into his side, like you trusted him. Hell, you did trust him against your own better judgement. He allowed it...he liked it.

The only reason Michael didn’t end it all was because he...enjoyed it. It was a nice, warm feeling. Of course he liked that...he just wasn’t used to it.

The conflict wasn’t whether he enjoyed having you around or not. It was about whether or not he would accept it. 

Letting you in, opening up to you, it felt good but it made him feel vulnerable, something Michael never wants to feel. He hates it.

-----

It was late but you were cooking, making something for Michael to eat when you noticed that he hadn’t eaten much that day. Caring, just like always. Normally Michael enjoyed your cooking and would eat anything you placed in front of him, but he was starting to feel that itch, the one that could only be satisfied by going out for a hunt.

“Michael” you smiled, turning when you heard his footsteps enter the room. “I guessed you were hungry so I’m making you something to eat” you informed him, he hated the way it make his heart twinge. “Sit down” you kindly gestured towards the table, seemingly not noticing the mask clutched in his hand.

Michael just shook his head, pulling the mask over his face before heading for the backdoor.

“Oh...okay...” you frowned a little when you realised he was leaving for his...nightly activities. You had become used to it, loved him despite it, but it still hurt a little when he left you like this. “I’ll uh...put it aside, you can heat it up when you come back if you’re hungry” you offered, forcing a small smile, “oh, and try not to get blood on the sheets when you come to bed, alright?” 

It was...oddly domestic, the things you requested of him, the bare minimum honestly.

He responded with the smallest nod and a quiet grunt of approval, though it sounded a little dismissive. 

You sighed as he left the house, turning back to the food you had been cooking. You would put it in the fridge for when he returned, you wondered if you should try to stay up for him or if you would tire before he came home.

You jumped a little when you heard the door open again, turning to see Michael striding towards you. You paused, blinking up at him curiously. You knew that he couldn’t help when he needed to go out like this, so you wondered why he decided to return.

You didn’t speak, you just waited. Surely he wanted something. 

It was incredibly surprising to you when he lifted the mask up to just above his nose, leaning down to press a kiss to your forehead. Your face flared up in a warm blush, definitely not expecting the affection. Without anything else, Michael lowered the mask, turning on his heel.

There, affection. It wasn’t a lot but it was a step in the right direction, enough to express some of the things he was feeling.

“I love you too!” you called after him as he disappeared out of the house, leaving you smiling brightly to yourself.

Those words. They just started a whole new conflict. You loved him, you loved him too...you knew how he felt about you even if he couldn’t completely comprehend them himself.

For now, this was okay. He was slowly coming to terms with his new feelings, and it seemed that you were willing to wait, finding the small achievements satisfying.

[specialbrewbutterbeer]

The Marital Home (Regulus Black x Reader) (Part III)

Word Count: 1681

TW: Alcohol/alcoholism, sex mentioned but nothing graphic, arranged marriage, dysfunctional relationship, anxiety,

AN: Okay! So i am loving writing this, I have at least one more part planned, maybe two. This is where things start to turn, and it might seem odd right now, but all will become clear in the next part/s. I hope you enjoy! Please please please do send in requests, I'm gonna open for some MCU characters as well so go check the Requests page for who, and as always give me some suggestions and ideas for this little series as well! Feedback is really really appreciated! (I WANNA KNOW EVERY THOUGHT)

REQUESTS (X)

MASTERLIST (X)

(Part I) (Part II)

Since that night on the bathroom floor, it was fair to say they'd gotten closer. It had finally broken the tension between them she supposed. By no means were they suddenly deeply in love or spent every second by each other's side, but they were taking small steps.

Regulus spent less time in the study than he lonce did, and (Y/n) had the courage to, when he came into the living room, go and sit by him.

She liked doing that. After these past months, feeling quite alone, to be close to someone was nice. They allowed themselves these intimate moments, but other things in their lives changed too

What (Y/n) had learnt was that, Regulus was an incredibly anxious person. That night, and others she presumed, he had spilled his guts purely due that knotted anxious feeling in his stomach. He hated it, but for him, these days, it was almost constant. He didn't exactly grow up in a household that ever taught him to deal with it either. With the war escalating too, and his new domestic situation, over the next six months it only got worse.

He'd begun to drink. Not loads at first, but enough to damped that feeling. Then a little more, and a little more. It wasn't every day, not initially. But then it was.

It was so subtle she didn't notice at first. But the things was, what alcohol did to numb Reg's anxious feelings, it did to heighten others. She could never pinpoint when it began, but she suspected he'd had plenty of nights, or days, drunk in that study of his, knowing she'd never come in and find out. He drank something everyday, sometimes just one or two, other days far far too many. Most days she couldn't tell, not until those nights where he drank too much became more frequent. His behavior was erratic when he was like that, he never lashed out or anything like that, he wasn't angry, just wound up and skittish and unable to articulate himself properly when usually he was a graceful and seemly calm man, who spoke eloquently and politely.

The good days were still there, where they'd talk, on those warm spring evenings. They'd sit pressed up close to eachother, just comfortable. Even then he'd had a drink.

But the whole situation lead to their first fight. Late one night, he'd stumbled out of the study, drunk, in need of some air, a pang of anxiety washing over him despite the drink. (Y/n) was coming down the stairs and saw him dart out of his room. She reached the bottom and just stood there and watched him, he didn't seem to have even noticed her. She watched him hold onto a whisky glass tightly, and lean on the banister, his chest rising and falling quickly. She couldn't watch this anymore. It hurt. The soft affection she felt for him, and her responsibility as a wife broke through her shyness and her worry, and some part of her felt how unfair it was that he could destroy himself to cope- as if she didn't feel something similar, as if she wasn't trapped here too and as if what he was doing didn't scare her.

"Reggie." She spoke and he startled, looking up at her. His chest was tighter than he'd ever felt and he thought he couldn't breathe. When he looked up to her, his hands were shaking, gripped so tight on that railing and on his glass to try and not let her see. He knew he was in a state. He didn't always, when the booze did it's job he was usually much calmer than this, but more often than not these days, it didn't work. It was just the ritual of drinking that sorted it out. The pouring the drink and the taste of it that satisfied him that he'd begin to feel better, that the knots in his stomach would undo, like a placebo. Not tonight. He could hear his pulse like a drumbeat in his head, and his face was blushed pink with heat.

"Reg, you can't keep on like this" she tried to speak softly, but her voice came out as frustrated as she felt. She'd never even mentioned it before, the drink. They both knew now, but like most things, it went unspoken.

He looked away, his hair, getting long now, fell over his face, a few strands sticking to his brow. He still felt like his breath was all taken from him, and each one he took was short and shallow.

"Why not?" He croaked, his mind fogged by drink and racing thoughts that were irrelevant and unimportant but were prominent in his headspace anyway, as they always were.

She hesitated, a lump rising in her throat as she saw him like that. This was why she left him alone when he was like this, it wasn't nice to watch and she didn't know how to stop it. When he was drunk and calm, she was uncomfortable, but he was more like himself, she could deal with that. But this was a whole new level of gut wrenching.

"Because it terrifies me. You're doing yourself damage like this-" he listen to her speak and his mind became crowded with a hundred more voices of awful thoughts. "We can't live like this."

She looked for any sign that he understood that she was hurting, in the hopes that any fragment of affection, or dare she say it, love, between them might be motive to stop.

She saw nothing.

"I thought we were trying not to be strangers?" She pressed on. "That means you can't keep getting pissed every night, and you can't..." She let her voice fade away from her as she realised the confrontation she was having.

"What's doing this?" She asked. "What do you know that I don't? What aren't you telling me?" Her voice trembled as she begged him to open up to her.

"Nothing." He spoke, his mouth now speaking before his head and heart could stop it. "Nothing... This is just how I am, and this is how I'm dealing with it." There was an edge to his voice that she wanted to believe was the drink and anxiety talking, but she couldn't lie to herself and know that for sure.

In the silence, he looked up again. The softness in his eyes was gone. She didn't know what was in it's place but she didn't like it.

She went to speak again but he cut in.

"No- don't you start lecturing me now. Just because you're my wife, that doesn't mean you've got to- to-" he stuttered and slurred his words slightly before stopping, as if his mind couldn't keep up with itself. He paused and ground his teeth. "For fuck's sake!" In one suddenly movement, he'd thrown the glass in his hand against the wall (one nowhere near her) and just shouted. She flinched away. She'd never heard him be loud like that, like something had gone bang in his head and set him off like a bomb.

She realised then that she'd not win the argument, and turned quickly to go back upstairs.

"No, no, no no-" Reg repeated half under his breath, realising what he'd said and shaking his head, his pulse sounding loudly through his skull. He moved toward her. "Thats-" His breath was still shallow. "It's not what I meant-" He caught her by the arm. Taken by surprise, she didn't resist.

"Please-" he spoke, pulling her, with a light, gentle grip on her arm, toward him. "Please."

He pulled her to face him, and stumbling to meet her, placed his other hand on her waist. In seconds they were pressed against eachother and he cupped her cheek in his hand and pressed his lips into hers. They'd never kissed like that before. She could taste the whisky on his lips still, but let herself slowly melt into it.

She pulled away and took a deep breath, she hung her head, pressing it into his chest, and held it. His hand moved from her face to rest on her shoulder. He just looked down at her, his brain still fogged and fuzz in his stomach.

Finally she let herself breathe again, but it was all released in a a small sob, as her eyes stung and welled up, the lump in her throat choked her and finally tears began to fall. She held onto him tightly and sobbed.

She was overwhelmed, and had no idea what was happening to her. She hadn't cried since he left home, or been so close to him. In that moment, she thought about if he had kissed her because he wanted to, or because he thought it would fix what he had said. She didn't know if she cared.

She lifted her head and wrapped her arms around his neck, then she kissed him again. New she could taste her own tears mixed with the bitter taste on his lips. It was sloppy, what with his being drunk and her emotional state, spurring them both on.

Regulus pulled away, his head half spinning.

"I'm sorry" He mumbled and repeated three times over, stuttering and slurred, before kissing her jaw and her neck. With tears still streaming down her face, (Y/n) just nodded frantically, and closed her eyes tight, digging her nails into his shoulder and arm, where she was holding onto him.

Reg moved a hand to her shoulder, and pulled her t-shirt down over it as he moved downward. Then he put one arm around her and put the other behind her thigh, pulling her upward and into him. She put up no fight and no resistance, as he picked her up she wrapped her legs around his waist. She ran her fingers through his hair as he continues to drunkenly kiss her, from the collarbone down. He took her into the living room and lay her on the sofa.

What they had that night, was sloppy, drunken, emotional sex.

--------------------------

PART 4 (Final) HERE

--------------------------

Tags:

@obnoxioussmiley

[sparklingchim]

fiery mornings; m | pjm

pairing: jimin × reader

word count: 3k

genre: smut, fluff, established relationship, idol!jimin

warnings: swearing, fingering, protected sex, some breast play

summary: waking up with jimin, but add a little spice to it 🌶

a/n: hello lovely people! i didn't proof read this because it's almost midnight for me now and i'm really tired but luckily tomorrow is saturday 😴 i hope you like it! and have a good morning, day, evening or night❤ i'm heading to bed now💤

masterlist

-

The sun peeking through the curtains and encasing the room with crumbs of light is what wakes you up.

These stupid blinds - that you hated as soon as you slept over at Jimin's place for the first time - were not doing their job properly. The sun overflowing his room every damn morning woke up everytime. You'd like to get more sleep because - let's not lie - Jimin and you don't go to sleep very early with both your needy and touchy hands when you lay in bed at night time. However, Jimin didn't care about your aversion against the blinds - he wasn't the one waking up due to them though... - and said something about them looking cozy and domestic.

You really tried to erase the thought of just ripping them down and buying him some new ones that don't let any sunlight shine so annoyingly in the room, but you hold back. But it's really tempting...

You stretch your arm to the nightstand, tapping on your phone to see what time it is. 7 am? Oh, how bad you want to rip these blinds off.

Nonetheless, the warmness of the sheets that you're both tucked under and Jimin's body radiating a comforting glow around you makes you stay in bed.

Jimin's arm is loosely wrapped around your stomach, his body pressed against you from the back. You glance back at him, his nose pressed against your spine and eyes still closed. Your heart softens at that doting sight, seeing him innocently sleeping. No worries in his mind, but only disguising his features in a tranquil state. Jimin is finally able to gett as much rest as he wants and needs after coming home from the tour.

You push some strands of his hair that are falling into his face away. The need to place kisses all over his puffy adorable face looms inside you, but you stop yourself from doing that, so you don't ruin his peaceful slumber that he's currently in.

Instead you could prepare some breakfast for him, so when he decides do wake up he has a delicious meal prepared for him. You think of some dishes that you could cook even though just staying in bed with him felt more enticing which also leads you to grab your phone despite your original plan to get up and start cooking breakfast. But there was no need to rush, Jimin won't wake up for approximately three more hours.

As you take your phone from the night stander you suddenly feel Jimin's grip on your stomach tighten. He lets out some displeased grunts, like a little child not pleased with something. You softly smile, rubbing soothing strokes with your thumb on his arm that's wrapped around you. Jimin nuzzles his face deeper into your back, sighing out in satisfaction.

God, he is so adorable.

You occupy yourself with your phone, checking social media and maybe salivating at some pictures from Jimin that you come across.

20 minutes pass, before you decide that it's time to start the day and prepare some breakfast for your boyfriend who still snoozes behind you, gaining all of his energy back after working so hard for months.

But then you feel something.

Eyebrows scrunched together, you try to make out what could possibly be poking you in this cuddly bed.

Oh.

Only spending a second on looking out for an answer to your oblivious question, you find the possible solution for that.

Jimin early-glory made it's appearance by being pressed against your butt, letting you feel his hard muscle.

Yeah, it was definitely about time to get up.

But when you prop myself up on your elbow, still laying on your side, you hear a muffled complaining sound behind you. To emphasize his need, Jimin's hold tightens on your belly again, just like he did before, though this time you actually attempted to leave the bed.

You squeeze his arm lightly to beguile him into letting you go. ,,I'm gonna make us breakfast, Minnie," you say whispering, tilting your head sideways, so you're able to look at Jimin. His eyes remain close, only parting is plump lips to mutter a little 'no'. You sigh out, head falling back onto the pillow. ,,It's not gonna take long," you try to convince him, even though the dishes you plan to cook would take a bit longer than normally.

,,Stay with me." Jimin's hoarse and raspy voice uttering its first full sentence this morning.

Then you seek to wiggle yourself out of his embrace, but it's pointless, because letting you go isn't even up for a debate in Jimin's mind.

,,Then there's no breakfast for you," you utter in defeat. Jimin doesn't answer, suddenly placing soft kisses over the crook of your neck. His sudden sweet kisses cause goose bumps spread all over your body, the tingling feeling automatically relaxing you, although laying in bed with Jimin is already so calming.

,,I'm only hungry for you right now," he says. Your cheeks flush at that cheesy comment, but luckily he can't see your reaction towards his words, knowing he would be smirking and teasing the shit out of you. Jimins usual cute and endearing way of waking up is vanished and instead he pulled out his charms to make you melt for him.

Jimins hand traces over your clothed stomach, heading down to you leg to stroke his fingers up to your thigh, pushing his shirt that you're wearing slightly up. His feather light touch induces shivers down your spine. The accentuating tension effects your whole composure, evoking you into pushing your ass back onto his bulge which results in Jimins body stiffening behind you. The impetuous act caught him off guard, but he relishes in the satisfying friction, coaxing him into the blissful thrill he was all too familiar with.

,,You want this?" Jimins tone was low, turning you on even more.

,,Yes, please," you beg, grinding your ass on his hard length. You both breath heavily, the pleasure building in a fast pace.

Soon your pussy burns in need, desiring to be filled with his huge cock. Your movements of his dick gliding through your clothes pussy makes your wetter by the seconds. It doesn't require much till Jimin has enough of the teasing rubbing and shoves the comforter away from your bodies.

,,I love you," Jimin murmurs, placing little kisses over your neck once again. He gently sucks at your skin, only for a brief moment though, not wanting to cause a mark on your flesh before he darts his tongue out and licks over the slightly flush skin.

,,I love you too," you reply breathless. You don't stop your ministrations. You can't desist when the sensation of his cock was getting you so riled up, brewing you into so much pleasure. Last night you were sceptical when Jimin didn't put on any clothes after your little rendezvous, but it really had its perks having him naked behind you.

Jimin hand wanders further, fingers toying with the side of your panty. Once his fingers get a hold of the thin material, he pushes them down in a swift motion. You help him to get the panties completely off and toss them away with your feet. Jimins hand lifts your leg up a bit, his hand hovering over your warmth, but not attempting to do anything yet. You fuss beneath him, craving his touch.

,,Are you sore from last night?"

,,No." You are. But not too much and your mind is too clogged up with the anticipation that builds for the pleasurable feeling Jimin is able to give you.

,,You're sure?"

,,Yeah, please touch me."

At your wish Jimins finger rubs up and down over your slit, coating his finger with my arousal. A little moan escapes your mouth. You enjoy the feeling of his digit touching your slick folds, gathering all your juices. When you feel his thumb circling your swollen sensitive bud, your legs tremble and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. Jimins index finger makes it way into your entrance. Your aching walls immediately clench around it, acting as needy as ever.

,,Shit," Jimin curses under his breath. ,,You're always so ready for me, baby." How could you not when a men like that was laying next to you in bed?

You let out a strangled moan when he plunges another finger inside you, his pace slow but steady. Jimin crooks his fingers, hitting that lovely spot every time he shoves his fingers back inside your quivering hole.

,,Just like that," you pant, your hand gripping his arm between your legs. Jimins fingers pick up on speed, your moaning spurring him on.

It doesn't take a lot of time till he gets you at that certain point, the familiar knot in your stomach growing quickly. Your body chases after your high, but you desperately want to cum on his cock, so you squeeze his arm gently and Jimin slows his pace.

,,I- I want to cum on your cock," you manage to say and he stops moving his fingers, withdrawing them after. Your body instantly misses the penetration and you whine at the loss of contact.

,,Shh, I'm gonna give it to you, baby," he soothes you, propping himself on his arm to slightly hover over you. You shift your head to see his awaken state for the first time that morning.

Jimins hair hangs into his forehead again, a tired but sincere smile on his face and his eyes puffy from his sleep. A smile immediately appears on your lips at when you look into his loving eyes, his whole being radiating so much comfort and contentment.

With Jimin you felt like it was you final destination. There was nothing else in this world that could give you more than what he was capable of giving you. Nothing in this world could compare to Jimins love. His love was tightly swathed around you and never vanished since the day you both knew that the tension between you was more than just a friendship. No day would pass in which he wouldn't jostle all his adoration to you and show you how much you meant to him. Jimin could never get tired of showering you in all the devotion he has allocated for you, he loved you after all.

You lace your fingers through his soft hair and for a few seconds it stays like that, pushed back on his head, but then it falls down onto his forehead again. Jimin stays still and watches how you play with his hair, until he can't prolong his desperate need to get some friction on his throbbing cock.

,,Can your grab a condom?" he asks and pecks your forehead briefly. You nod and quickly turn to the nightstand on your side, fishing a condom out of the drawer. You hand it to him and rips the package, doing fast work in wrapping the plastic around his member and tossing the useless package somewhere behind his back.

Jimin preps a few kisses on your jawline, making his way to your lips and every so gently capturing your mouth into a tender kiss. You share a passionate and slow kiss together, savouring the moment of being together again after being apart for months. He dips his tongue in, both of your wet muscles tangling tighter.

When you both need to break the kiss, Jimin doesn't intend to go for another, but raises your leg higher and alignes the tip of his cock on your entrance.

,,Oh my God," you breath out.

Jimin slides his cock up and down your folds, gathering your arousal before he's back on your entrance, slowly pushing in. He breathes heavily, your tight walls latching onto his cock so securely. The more his thick length sinks inside your needy warmth, the presence of the soreness from yesterday night makes itself perceptible. Jimin stretches your walls till he's completely buried inside of you. He stills once he's balls deep in, giving you time to adjust to his size.

,,You're good, baby?" he makes sure, looking you in the eyes. You nod slowly, the feeling of his dick being completely in making it hard to let out any words.

When there's still no attempt of moving from Jimin, you tap his arm that has a hold of your leg in the air. ,,Go on please," you whisper, needing to feel his deep thrusts.

After he hears your wish, desperation lingering in your voice, Jimin bottoms out till only his tip is left inside, but quickly pushes back again. The longing feeling finally getting stilled with his tangy thrusts. Jimin continues his movements, his hips snapping faster and faster from behind you and you just feels so good.

,,Lift your leg for me," he instructs, before leaving his hold on your leg to slide his fingers under your - well, technically his- shirt and palms your breast. Jimin pinches and rolls your nipples between his digits, coaxing louder moans out of you. He furrows his eyebrows, you sweet tones prodding him more on. He relishes in the fact that he is the one making you feel this way, making you moan so sweetly for his hear only. Jimin lets out breathy moans, his pace rapid and hard.

Your hand wanders around his neck, tucking at his hair and he answers with soft groans. Then you push the back of his head closer to yours, pressing your lips against his plush ones and kissing him hungrily. You feel yourself getting closer, you're body reaching your high in a short span of time. Of course Jimin feels it, your walls clenching around his member and greedily wanting to milk him are way too obvious. You retract from the kiss, shutting your eyes close when all the sensations overcome you. Jimin lets go of your breast to nestle his hand between your thighs and soon you feel his thumb circling on your clit.

,,Cream all over me," Jimin murmurs.

The added pleasure on your sensitive bud makes you mewl, biting your lip really hard.

The slick sounds of your pussy getting hammered by Jimins cock and his skin slapping against yours fill the room. Combined with your moans and his breathy sound, makes you so much hornier and all you want to do is to cum around his big cock.

,,I'm- I'm gonna cum!" you warn him, the knot in your stomach getting so close to finally snap.

,,Me too," he pants, his thrusts going faster.

Jimins length kisses your cervix every time his hips shoot back into you. ,,Shit, look at me."

Your head instantly tilts to him, meeting his eyes that were already locked on your face. Your eyebrows knit together, the sharp thrusts of his body making you so close to reach your end. Jimin sinks his teeth into his plump bottom lip, never breaking the intense eye contact with you. Fuck, he looked so hot and stunning.

After a few more hard and deep thrusts, your climax approaches and your hand wanders to his shoulder, digging your nails into his skin. Your legs start to tremble and his hand that was playing with your clit, leaves the wet place to hold your leg up when you have trouble keeping it high because of all the  sensations shooting in your body.

,,Jimin!" you cry, heavy pants following.

It doesn't take long for him to come undone too - only a few thrusts later he spills his cum into the condom, making you feel the way he twitches your quivering hole. Jimin groans loud and nuzzles his face into the crook of your neck, letting go of holding my leg up. And just like that you both lay there - breathing heavily, bodies fully spent and coming down from your high.

Jimins hand wander to your face, cupping your cheek and rubbing soothing strokes with his thumb on your flush skin. He plants a few kisses on your neck, whispering sweet nothings into your ear. Your body tingles, his breath fanning over your skin creating goose bumps over it.

Ever so slowly he bottoms his now softened length out of your walls, your sensitiveness causing you to shiver.

,,It's okay baby, I've got you," he coos, giving your cheek a peck.

You turn around, now laying on your back and looking into his brown orbs. They have this beautiful glisten in them, making me feel like I'm safe when I'm with him. His eyes are full of love. And he could say the same to you.

You both exchange some more smooches here and there, being all cuddly and acting like you didn't already say I love you for a hundred of times in the past already. Your heart flutters every time he says something sweet, grazes his fingers over your skin or plasters sweet kisses all over you.

After some time Jimin stands up, discarding the condom in a bin and throws some boxers on. Then he grabs tissues and comes back to the bed, digging his knee on the mattress and spreading your legs. He tugs your shirt up to clean you and when Jimin is done with that  he pushes the white fabric down again.

,,I'm definitely not gonna prepare breakfast now," you say when he turns around to get rid of the dirty tissue.

,,I can do it," Jimin answers, turning to you again. His abs were on full display and you can't prevent yourself from looking at his firm chest before looking into his eyes again.

,,Mhm, you can?" you cock an eyebrow.

,,You don't think I'm able to make the same breakfast as you?" he asks back.

,,Of course I think you can to it, babyy," you  tease him and giggle after he furrows his eyebrows, an angry pout displayed on his lips.

,,I'm gonna show you," he says competitively and leaves the room, making his way to the kitchen.

And yes, he did indeed show you.

In fact, he showed you the burned rice he attempted to cook.

[citrinesparkles]

patience, love.

jason todd x gender neutral reader. 1317 words. notes: okay. maybe this got a little out of hand. maybe a simple idea grew legs and ran right out of my grasp. maybe i got carried away. i can admit that that may have happened here. (4 times he didn't say i love you. 1 time he did.) warnings: food, patching up wounds, bad self doubt. angst in the beginning.

♡ "i love you," you were warm and content from dinner, and the words slipped from your mouth and over his counter before you could stop them.

not because there was any doubt in your mind- there wasn't, at this point, you knew you loved him like you knew the sky was blue- but because you were afraid of how much doubt was in his.

but maybe that was why you said it.

the doubt in his eyes now, wide and almost fearful as he stared at you, felt like a punch in the gut.

"is that okay?" you asked over the sound of the forgotten faucet and steady drip drip drip off of the scrub brush frozen in his hand.

"you shouldn't." he croaked it out, voice scratchy and weak, viciously tearing his gaze down from your eyes.

you opened your mouth, protests on the tip of your tongue, but he only shook his head.

"please. just... not tonight."

♡ you found him on your balcony, leaning against the railing and staring at the horizon.

the sunset painted the sky pink and purple and red, vivid colors washing over him and catching in his hair and highlighting the scars visible around his t-shirt.

"whatcha need?" he asked gently, acknowledging your presence without looking back.

"you." it was the truth, even if you said it with a playful grin. he healed something in your chest, soothed every break and wound on your heart, quieted the noise in your mind.

a small huff of laughter escaped him, floating into the evening air, as pink and warm and beautiful as the sky. "you have me."

"good." you dropped your head against the doorframe, letting your features relax into a gooey, affectionate smile as you watched his hair shift in the breeze. "love you."

he tensed for a few moments, and you took a deep, silent breath to push your own nerves back down.

it was hard.

a not-so-small part of you hissed that you would scare him off, chase him away by admitting the depth of your feelings again. that despite him being by your side through thick and thin, your love of all things might be the final straw.

he did push back from the railing, sending your heart plummeting into your stomach.

but instead of brushing past you and walking out the door, his hands found your shoulder and your hip and delicately, slowly, cautiously pulled you to his chest.

when you almost immediately melted against him and tucked your chin into his shoulder, his arms slid around your back and held you as close as possible. held you as though you were the most important thing in the world.

he couldn't say it yet, but maybe this was his way of saying it anyway.

♡ "i'm heading out, jase." you leaned over the back of the couch to kiss his cheek. "be good, okay? love you."

he hummed, eyes trained carefully on the tv. "just be safe. and don't forget you're out of pickles."

♡ it had been a very, very long day.

you were very, very tired.

and, as shuffling into a freshly cleaned apartment that smelled like your favorite meal reminded you, very, very attached to jason todd.

you stood silently for a moment, taking note of what all had been swept or dusted or vacuumed, how the blanket you'd left haphazardly on the couch was now folded neatly, and the old lopsided chair you kept meaning to fix was now sitting at attention.

just- seriously, this man was going to be the death of you.

you set your stuff in the corner by the door, neatly kicked your shoes off against the wall, and followed your nose into the kitchen.

his back was to you. he was swaying gently to the jazz playing in the background, hands busy in front of him, and he looked relaxed and happy and the domesticity- the simplicity- of it all was enough to make tears prick at your eyes.

(maybe the ache in your head and feet and- well, okay, all of you- had something to do with that, but he was much nicer to think about.)

"the chair, huh?" you greatly enjoyed the way his motion stuttered for the briefest of moments at the sound of your voice. "you get sick of looking at it?"

he turned to face you, his brow furrowed and cheeks dusted with pink. "i- maybe. maybe a little."

"dinner, too, huh? what'd you do, break something?"

"what? no, i didn't- i'm just-" he stopped, eyes narrowing at you. "you're messing with me."

"maybe. maybe a little."

he groaned, turning back to the counter and grumbling playfully. "i try to be nice and this is the thanks i get."

you chuckled, moving forward to slip your arms around his torso and lean into his back. "sorry, sorry."

"no no, by all means, keep making fun of me. i know it's your favorite hobby."

"i'd make fun of you less if you weren't so cute when you get all pouty about it, y'know."

"i do not get all-" another groan escaped him, and he dropped his head forward into his hands. "would you please just go get into some pajamas so we can eat? stop trying to give me a migraine?"

your laughter was muffled slightly by his t-shirt. "fine." you reluctantly pulled away from the most comfortable moment of your entire day and headed towards the doorway, pausing for a moment just inside of it. "hey, jay?"

he dragged his hands down his face dramatically, looking over his fingers at you. "hm?"

"i love you too."

the soft smile he gave you was worth every single minute of frustration and exhaustion that had led up to it. "yeah, yeah, get out of my kitchen already."

"it's my apartment-"

"gooooo."

♡ your bathroom was bright, cold, and smelled like hydrogen peroxide and blood.

his blood, mostly, but you really didn't think he'd take well to being asked for details just yet.

plus, you weren't totally sure you wanted to know.

regardless of where it came from, the truth was the red liquid had soaked through his shirt and coated his gloves and you were pretty sure some had gotten on your cheek, somehow, before you'd managed to get him cleaned up and bandaged.

now, he rested on the edge of the wet tub and let you gently work a towel through his freshly washed hair that smelled like your shampoo.

you could feel his eyes on you as you stepped back to grab a comb.

"hey, baby?"

stepping back into his space, you hummed in acknowledgement.

"i..." he cleared his throat, inhaling sharply. "i love you."

you froze, eyes snapping down to find his trained carefully on the ground in between the two of you.

you could see the tension in his jaw and shoulders, the way his hands were gripping the wall of the tub. the way he was avoiding your gaze like it would burn him.

"i love you too." you knelt down in front of him, fingers tracing his cheek and jaw and falling to where his neck met his shoulder, gently hovering over his pulse. "you know you don't have to say it, right?"

he nodded sharply, slowly softening under your touch. finally meeting your eyes. "i want to. you deserve to hear it. you deserve a lot more than that."

"you deserve to be comfortable, jason."

a small heh escaped him. "i don't know if i deserve it, but if there's one thing you do, it's make me comfortable."

"good. that's more important to me than hearing you say a few words, okay?"

"okay." he leaned forwards, dropping his forehead against yours and wrapping his fingers around your wrist, cradling it against his collarbone. "as long as you... as long as you know."

"i know, handsome, i promise."

[mellowswriting]

I saw that requests are open! would it be possible for you to write a follow up to Second Chances with javi and reader? Maybe you have another kid and this time javi is able to be there for you throughout the whole pregnancy, and get to experience the first kick, you giving birth, etc (I am a sucker for domestic!javi if you can't tell haha) I think it would be really cute!!

From the Beginning

pairing || Javier Peña x afab!Reader

summary || Javier gets to experience the chaotic excitement of welcoming a new baby to the family.

word count || 6,466 

warnings || kid fic, pregnant reader, non-graphic childbirth, some spiciness but no smut, dad!Javi being adorable 

a/n || I can’t even express how much I love writing about the boys as dads, especially Javier! I really hope you all enjoy this, it was so very much fun to write.

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Early spring mornings always had a special quality about them. The air was never too hot, pleasantly warm with a hint of a cool breeze that still lingered from winter’s sharp grip. Plants were beginning to bloom, the trees regaining their bright green foliage that ruffled in a symphony with every pass of the wind. Spring was the bringer of warmth after the ice and snow, the nurturer that coaxed seeds to sprout and flourish, the guide for new life and hope.

Ironic, then, that those very qualities you had grown to love were the ones causing you so much inner turmoil that you couldn’t even enjoy the gorgeous morning happening around you. You hadn’t even realized what was happening at first. Mother nature hadn’t exactly gifted you with a cycle that could be easily followed and predicted. Instead you had the supreme pleasure of having to carry around menstrual products everywhere you went and having to replace your underwear far more often than usual. So when you went two months without the waves of cramps and frustration of your period, it wasn’t all that remarkable.

It was when you were doing some last minute grocery shopping the night before that you realized something was off. Well, more off than usual. The sight of the shelves of tampons made your stomach bottom out with realization. You must’ve made quite a sight as you stood in that aisle with a cart half full of food, just staring at tampons with dread. Two boxes of pregnancy tests got tossed in with the various other items in your cart and you hoped that Javier was too tired from work to insist he help you put away the groceries.

For once, the universe appeared to be on your side. Your husband was sitting on the floor with Elianna, a spread of coloring books and crayons scattered on the living room carpet, and he actually listened to you when you waved him off to carry the bags in yourself. The tests were tucked away in the bathroom behind your tampons - ironic, yes, but it was the one place Javier really wouldn’t be poking around.

Honestly, a part of you felt bad for not telling Javier right away. He had more than proven himself as a great father and husband in the nearly two years since he returned to your life. Those irrational little fears of him leaving you and little Ellie had been crushed into nothing in the wake of the role he readily took on with his daughter, but this was different. Maybe it was pretty naive of you to not have that conversation with him, but it was something you thought you still had time for.

The plus sign on the pregnancy tests told you the time for that conversation was now, apparently. You were grateful for the timing of your little realization. Saturday mornings saw the standing trend of your sister whisking Ellie away for some ‘auntie and niece time’, and you really didn’t want her to feel the tension you were carrying. She was such a perceptive little girl that had an eye for everything.

Javier was still asleep. You usually slept in with him on the weekends, but you were restless to find out if your period was just pulling a fast one on you or if you actually were pregnant. Now you had four positive tests sitting in front of you and a sleeping husband who you couldn’t decide whether or not to wake up. Luckily, you ended up not having to make that choice since two sharp raps of his knuckles against the bathroom door snapped you out of your trance.

The door opened a millisecond after you snatched up the tests and hid them behind your back, not so unlike Ellie when she was hiding a treat she wasn’t supposed to have yet. The difference was that you didn’t know if this would be a treat to Javier. He was still half asleep, his thin pajama pants slug low on his hips and his eyes squinted against the bathroom light.

“G’morning,” He grunted as he moved to shuffle past you. “Move over, I gotta piss.”

You were rooted to the spot, though, your brain floundering to gain control of your muscles. “Uhm…”

“What’s wrong?” Javier slowly perked up through his sleepy haze at the realization that you looked downright terrified. He put his hand on your bicep and squeezed slightly. “Is Ellie okay?”

“What? No, yeah, Ellie’s fine. She’s with Amelia.” You spluttered, cringing at your inability to function.

“Then why do you look like you’ve seen a ghost?” Javi pressed. There really wasn’t any hiding things from him. Ellie must get that sharp eye of hers from her father. “What are you holding behind your back?”

You tried to swallow down the thickness that enveloped your throat to form some sort of words, literally anything to convey to him what the hell was going on, but your body was seized with fear. So you held out the tests wordlessly. His eyebrows furrowed as he took the bundle of tests from your hand, staring at them with a split second’s confusion before it dawned on him. “This…? You…?”

“Yeah.” You whispered. The worry in your voice must’ve been obvious because Javier was on you in a second flat, his arms crowding you into his chest with a crushing strength.

“You’re pregnant?” Javier croaked into your neck and the dam of emotion in your chest crumbled. His voice was full of excited disbelief, and relief crashed over you.

“Yeah, I am.” You said with a tearful chuckle, winding your arms around him to burrow yourself even further into his chest. “I know we never really talked about having another kid but… is this something you want, Javi?”

“Fuck, this is ironic.” Javier laughed quietly and when you looked up at him, he avoided your eyes with an almost bashful look. “I was gonna ask you today if you ever thought about it. Do you have any idea how many times I went over it in my head?”

You couldn’t help it - you cracked up laughing. The whole thing was almost ridiculous - the both of you worrying despite wanting the exact same thing. Tears of relief and laughter soaked into his t-shirt as you both broke into chaotic laughter, fingers clutching at each other’s shirts as you tried to catch your breath.

“So, uh… are we doing this?” Javier sounded nervous, his hands rubbing up and down your back as if to reassure himself. “You really wanna have a baby with me? Again?”

“Yeah.” Your voice was choked with a tense mix of emotions, so you cleared your throat and tried again. “Yeah, I do.”

“I can’t… fuck, I can’t believe you - you’d… thank you.” He babbled, nearly unintelligible in his scramble to convey how fucking grateful he was, but you knew. It wasn’t the first time you had heard the desperate need to spit words he couldn’t really find, the words that matched the swell of emotions in his chest that still wasn’t used to voicing. “Fuck, Ellie’s gonna be such a good big sister.”

That choked you up more than you expected. She really would be, you knew that for a fact, but it was a dream you had boxed up and shoved on a shelf with all your other unrealistic dreams for your future. Never in your life did you let yourself really think you could have the whole package deal - the loving (albeit gruff) husband, the big house, the sound of little feet chasing each other through the halls…

“Wait, how long have you been…? Or do we have to see a doctor first? Oh shit, we have to find a doctor for you, what the fuck are they called..? A fucking... obstetrician!” Javi rambled in a mix of nerves and excitement, breaking from your embrace to pace the length of the bathroom. “How are you feeling? Are you okay? Is there anything I can do to help, because -”

“Javi, breathe!” You calmed him with both hands out to stop his walking and braced your hands on his shoulders to rub at him firmly. “We have plenty of time, okay? Let me go make some coffee for you and we can sit down and make a plan. First, didn’t you have to go to the bathroom?”

“Oh… yeah.”

----------

Javier couldn’t stop bouncing his knee. It was a subconscious thing, something he stopped the moment he realized but soon found it moving of its own volition all over again. He really was trying not to let his nerves show even though he knew that you could tell. It was all so new to him, which wouldn’t be a problem if the reminder didn’t gut him every goddamn time. He couldn’t imagine how alone you must have felt the first time around when you were pregnant with Elianna, especially in these cold, sterile doctors offices.

His grip tightened on your hand. The feeling of your fingertips pressed against the top of his hand kept him grounded, helped him remind himself that there was no going back and changing everything else that happened. All he could do was be there this time around, be the best version of himself that he could be for you and his kid - well, kids now. Plural. The excitement was almost enough to drown away the guilt. Javi really could barely believe that he was getting the privilege of experiencing this with you.

“I’ve seen files on drug lords shorter than all that.” Javier nodded at the pile of forms and paperwork you held in your lap and you laughed brightly. He preened a little at the sound. It was something he could never get enough of, that laugh of yours. “I love you.”

You looked up at him, the pen in your hand stopping its constant scratching for the first time in forever, and gave him a lopsided smile. “I love you, too.”

There was no way he wasn’t going to kiss you after that adorable little display. Your cheek felt soft against his palm and the little sigh of relief you huffed against him was addictive. Just knowing that he was an anchor for you made Javier feel so incredibly loved and important and all he wanted to do was imbue you with that same sense of security. He held you close, his hand slipping back to the back of your neck to keep you right where he wanted you, and gave you those soft little kisses that never failed to make you melt.

“Mrs. Peña?” A nurse called out and he had no choice but to let you go with one last peck against your lips. He followed you and the nurse into the exam room, nerves and excitement soaring even higher in his chest.

It was kind of fascinating, watching you answer the nurse’s barrage of questions. Questions about your medical history, how many pregnancies you’ve had, all about your menstrual cycle. The two of you went back and forth for at least fifteen minutes, tossing questions and answers back and forth like a tennis match. The nurse left with the promise of the doctor being in momentarily for an ultrasound.

“Come hold my hand?” You asked, and how could he deny such a sweet request?

“Of course,” He pulled a chair from across the room and settled himself next to the exam table, both of his hands wrapping around one of yours as he brought it up to his lips to kiss your knuckles. “So what happens now?”

“The doctor will give me an ultrasound. She’ll probably want to run some blood tests, too.” You sighed, obviously uncomfortable at the thought of needles.

“I’ll hold your hand then, too.” Javier promised.

“It’ll be good practice for you, ‘cause once I’m in labor I’ll probably break your hand.” You teased and yeah, broken fingers didn’t sound all that great but fuck, he was more than ready to let you do just that. Javier wanted to be your rock, wanted to support you through it all - especially since he couldn’t the first time.

Two quick knocks sounded against the door made Javier straighten up hastily. The doctor came in with a smile and a large machine wheeling in behind her. “Good morning, mom and dad! How’re we feeling?”

“All good here, Dr. Hall. A little nauseous, but still… good.” You gave Javier’s hand a little squeeze before letting go to unbutton your jeans and fold the waistband down, followed by pulling the hem of your shirt up. It was hard to believe that the beginning of an entire new life was right there between your hips.

“Good to hear!” Dr. Hall fiddled with the ultrasound machine for a moment before turning to you. “So today we’re going to take a look and find out how far along you are, make sure mom and baby both look healthy, okay?”

“Okay,” You and Javier said in unison, and he took your hand again, needing to feel you there with him.

The gel must’ve been cold based on the way you hissed slightly. Javier watched the screen as Dr. Hall trailed the wand over your belly, lips parting at the sight of the black and white image. It was hard to make out what exactly he was seeing at first, but the image shifted slightly and he could make out the tiniest, vague shape of the newest edition to his little family.

“It looks like you’re about ten weeks along.” Dr. Hall murmured without taking her eyes off of the screen. “Baby is about the size of a plum.”

Javier squeezed your hand lightly, the both of you sparing a glance at each other before staring back at the screen in wonder. The doctor pointed out the baby’s head and a little foot as she took her measurements, reassuring you both that everything looked perfect. He gave a rushed “yes, absolutely” when she asked if he wanted the ultrasound photos - there was a spot in his wallet that he had in mind for it already.

It wasn’t as if he hadn’t been in situations that left him shocked before. This was Javier Peña, after all. Life and career experiences had given him plenty of moments where his mind was completely washed blank with surprise, but never had it been such a good thing. There were so many times that the shock was accompanied by grief or anger, but excitement? Gratefulness? That was new to him, left him reeling the entire drive home, all throughout dinner. Something in the back of his mind nagged at him that he couldn’t be like this when Ellie got home the next day. She was smarter than he could’ve imagined any kid being at three years old and even though he agreed with your assertion that no one should know about your pregnancy for a few more weeks at least, Javier was certain his daughter would be able to needle it out of him.

Those expert interrogation skills must be hereditary.

It wasn’t until he was getting ready for bed that it really hit him how real it was, that you really were sitting in the bed you shared with him, pregnant with his baby and making plans for the usual Sunday brunch and park visit you all did every week. As he set his wallet on the nightstand, he couldn’t help but pull out the little ultrasound picture. He had a feeling he would be doing that a lot, especially when the new cadets were driving him crazy at work. It all swelled up in his chest, the appreciation and excitement and disbelief, because holy shit, how did he get so lucky? One finger traced the little image in his hand, and he couldn’t help but blurt out, “Thank you.”

The confused look you gave him made him flounder for the words.

“I just… I know everything was fucked up the first time around but I swear, it’s going to be different this time. I am not going anywhere.” Javier slid closer at the sight of the tears in your eyes, easily welcoming your arms around his neck as you practically drug yourself into his lap. He held you close to his chest, trying to instill the certainty and promise of it all. “God, fuck, and I thought I couldn’t get enough of you before…”

“Javi…” You croaked, laughing wetly into his neck.

“I’m serious! You’re gonna have to tell me to fuck off when you want space because I can’t keep my hands off you.” Javi teased, relief washing over him at your seeming acceptance of his promises. “And now like this, growing my baby… fuck, I am in this with you. Me and you and Ellie… and our little plum.”

That night, Javier fell asleep with his head on your shoulder, his face buried in your neck, and his hand tucked into the waistband of your sweatpants to cradle that precious space that held his newest child.

----------

Ellie couldn’t stop touting her new title to anyone who would listen.

“I’m a big sister!” She told the cashier at the grocery store, the other kids at the park and their moms for good measure, and even the mailman when they came by each morning. The brightness in her eyes when she said it made your heart flip in your chest. You had expected some sort of confusion or even for her to be upset at the idea of a new sibling, but she launched right into a story about how her friend from playgroup has a baby sister, and you knew that she would be just fine.

With your sixteenth week rapidly approaching, you couldn’t be more grateful that Ellie was excited for the new addition to the family. It was one less thing for you to worry about amidst the chaos of bringing a new person into the world. The fatigue was something you definitely didn’t miss about pregnancy - it washed over you without warning, left you nodding off wherever you sat. Thank god Javier was such a hands on father. He had no problem herding Ellie off into the backyard or off for a walk to let you get some much needed rest.

You hadn’t expected him to be such a hands on husband, though. Sure, you knew he was excited and you knew he already loved everything about your body, but he really wasn’t lying when he said pregnancy made him want you even more. Every night, Javi’s hands gravitated to your body to ease the kinks out of your muscles, to rub your feet until the aches went away, to cheekily offer you an orgasm if you were up for one. It made you feel cherished, something you sorely missed the first time you were pregnant.

“Thank you, Javi,” You groaned lowly as those strong hands of his worked at your lower back. He easily hitched your thigh up slightly to ease some of the pressure on the new swell to your belly. There was a slur in your voice when you said, “Feels so good.”

Javier chuckled behind you, moving on to rub your feet. “Be quiet, you don’t want to wake Ellie.”

“Did you ever see this being our life?” You murmured though your voice was muffled by the pillows you buried your head in. “Telling each other not to wake the kids, making bacon smiley faces for a toddler’s breakfast?”

“I didn’t think I’d actually get it, but I wished for it. Dreamt about how pretty you’d look all full of me.” Javi placed a teasing kiss to the inside of your thigh. “The real thing is so much better.”

You could only groan under his praise. His thumbs dug into the arch of your foot and rubbed in methodical circles, drawing another pleased groan from you that you muffled in your pillow. The pain slowly melted from your tired muscles under his thorough ministrations, leaving a pleasant warmth in his wake that made you all pliant and drowsy beneath him.

“How are you feeling, sweetheart?” Javi asked as he rubbed his hands up your calves and you smiled. You knew exactly what he was gunning for.

You eased yourself onto your back and reached out for him with both arms, bringing him forward with grabby hands that he could never refuse. Javier settled between your thighs, a knowing smirk on his face, and leaned down to kiss you deeply. “‘M feeling good, Javi.”

“You know I love making my girl feel good,” Javi murmured as he kissed down your neck, one hand trailing back and forth over your hip and thigh lovingly. “Can I make you feel even better?”

“Please?” You asked breathily and your husband was more than happy to oblige. The loose tank top you wore was the first to go, followed quickly by your shorts and underwear.

Javier set about lavishing your neck and chest with affection, his touch more gentle than usual on your oversensitive breasts, and once again you were struck by the surrealness of it all. The fact that this had begun in Colombia all those years ago as two coworkers using sex for stress relief and had blossomed into this beautiful life you shared together was a thing of dreams. But there you were, with Javier Peña making love to you, quietly as to not wake your daughter and gently as to keep you and your baby safe and happy, and you could barely believe it.

“I love you,” You choked out through the tears that sprung into your eyes and Javi sat up to look at you with a concerned expression.

“What? What’s wrong?�� He asked, his eyes roaming all over to find the apparent source of your tears.

“Nothing’s wrong.” You tried to pull him back down to you but he didn’t budge, the concern unwavering.

“Then why are you crying?” Javier brushed a thumb under your eyes to wipe away the evidence of your strong burst of emotion.

“Because I love you,” You chuckled as you held his hand close to your cheek and pressed a kiss to the middle of his palm. “And I’m pregnant, so everything is a thousand times more intense and you don’t get to tease me for that.”

“I would never,” Javi muttered but the mischievous grin on his face betrayed him. “Let me make you feel better, baby,”

“I’m already better, Javi - oh,”

----------

Two o’clock in the morning was not an ideal time to wake up, especially since Javier knew that Ellie would be awake and full of energy by seven, but something felt off. Even in his unconscious state, he could feel the absence of you in bed and his mind nagged at him to get up and find you. The hardwood was cold beneath his feet as he wandered from the bedroom, finding the bathroom empty before he made his way down the stairs. You often would rest on the recliner in the living room when your back was bothering you particularly bad, especially since your center of gravity had so drastically changed the further along you got in your pregnancy - but you weren’t there either.

Before Javi could start really worrying, he heard the refrigerator open and found you peering into the illuminated fridge in search of… something. A pint of ice cream was already in your hand, a spoonful of it hanging from your lips as you browsed with a frustrated look on your face, and honestly… Javi loved how you looked. It was so domestic and sweet, the sight of you in your pajamas that barely covered your belly as you raided the kitchen.

Thirty-six weeks and four days. He could barely believe how much time had passed since he saw those positive tests. It felt like forever and the blink of an eye at the same time, and he was beyond excited to meet his newest little one.

“What are you looking for, sweetheart?” Javi asked after a moment of watching you helplessly search around.

The sheepish smile you gave him made his heart swell in his chest and he automatically opened his arms as you shuffled over to bury your face in his chest. “Your kid is driving me crazy with the cravings.”

Javier hugged you tightly, relishing in the way you relaxed against him. “Well, if they’re anything like me, they probably want those barbecue chips, then.”

It didn’t take long for him to get you herded back up to bed with the chips in hand and the sight of you sleepily munching away while burrowed in the blankets eased an almost innate need Javier had to see you safe and happy, all nice and taken care of in his bed. He climbed into bed once he was sure you didn’t need anything else, settling on his side with his head propped up against his hand to watch you despite his own sleepiness.

“Let your mama sleep, troublemaker.” He murmured to your belly as he rubbed gentle circles over the spots he could feel the nudges of his little one retaliating to their father’s stern words. “Need some lotion?”

“Hmmm, please?” You hummed.

Rubbing lotion into your skin was something Javi had taken a particular liking to. The first time he had seen you doing it yourself, he was quick to take over. That was the first time he felt his little one kick at his hands and he fell even more in love - something he hadn’t thought was possible. It was a good way to feel closer to you both, to his wife and the baby you were bringing into the world, and the way you dozed slightly as he helped you relax made him feel needed, like he was doing right by you. That’s all he ever wanted to do.

A nudge to the edge of his hand made Javier glance back down to where his hands were running all over your belly, but it was the sight of the baby rolling that made him do a double take. “Holy shit,” He whispered, hands frozen as he saw what had to be the imprint of a little foot or hand poke out before disappearing. “There really is a whole person in there.”

“You’re tellin’ me,” You grumbled, grimacing slightly at the feeling. “It’s aerobics hour, apparently.”

“That’s fucking crazy.” Javi tentatively resumed massaging the lotion into your skin. It was hard to fathom, the idea that your body was so capable of creating and nurturing a brand new life, and for the millionth time he found himself thanking the universe for letting him have this second chance.

----------

Gabriel Peña came early, quick, and with a sharp cry you were sure could be heard throughout the entire hospital. His little nose was scrunched up, his face all red from his wailing, hands curled into angry fists over his sudden eviction from the warmth and darkness he was accustomed to. It was a short labor, so very different from your first with Ellie for so many reasons but the biggest being the strong presence of Javier at your side. The moment the contractions began at the crisp hour of six a.m., he was alert and full of nervous excitement.

True to his word, Javier let you clutch onto him through it all - every contraction, every push, every angered grumble you threw his way for getting you pregnant in the first place. That sharp mind of his kept up under the pressure. He spoonfed you ice chips and let you use him for support as you rocked your way through particularly bad contractions.

There were tears in Javier’s eyes as he carefully set his hand on his son’s head, carefully musing the shock of dark, wispy hair on his head. You leaned your head against Javi’s shoulder, exhaustion, relief, and happiness warring with each other after hours of labor. You felt his lips press against your temple before he sniffled and whispered, “Thank you.”

Javier stayed by Gabriel’s side the entire time the doctors checked him over and cleaned him up, per your instructions, and he was the one to return your son to your arms. It was the most careful you had ever seen him, his movements slow and deliberate, eyes on the baby’s adorable, chubby face.

“Seven pounds, nine ounces,” Javi murmured as he drug a chair as close to your bedside as possible and settled in, his hand resting on your thigh. A disgruntled whine came from the baby wriggling in your arms and you smiled, knowing he was hungry and could probably smell the milk your body had been preparing to make for his arrival. You pulled the gown down to expose your breast, propping your arm with a pillow to better support him, and adjusted his latch to settle in.

“Nice latch, mama,” One of the nurses said as she finished settling the blankets around your feet.

“Not my first time at this rodeo.” You chuckled quietly. It had been a while since Ellie weaned but you still remembered the struggle of figuring out how to get a newborn to latch properly when you had no idea what you were doing. You set your hand over Javi’s, smiling at him when he blinked sleepily up at you. Neither of you had gotten much rest before Gabriel decided to make his appearance into the world. “Can you hand me some water, honey?”

“Of course,” Javi perked up with the small task you gave him. There wasn’t much he could do at this point, but you wanted him to feel involved, to feel like he was helping you, and even though his mere presence helped you relax, you knew he was an ‘action’ kind of man. He needed something to do to feel useful. He held the straw steady for you and everything, your sweet husband. “How’re you feeling?”

“Tired.” You answered honestly, leaning into his hand when he brushed stray hairs from your face.

“I know this wasn’t easy. I’m proud of you.” It was a simple statement but it hit you right in your chest. As excited as you were to have another baby, it was hard. Exhausting. He could see it all, how tired you were and how hard you were working just to carry on like normal through your pregnancy, and while he did everything he could to ease some of that burden, the plain acknowledgement of how hard you worked felt good.

“I love you so much.” You whispered, pulling his hand close to kiss his palm.

“I love you, too.” Javier leaned over the side of the bed and kissed you softly, careful not to jostle his son where he sleepily nursed against you. “How are our kids so damn cute?”

You huffed a laugh, which made Gabriel shift against you before settling back down, sighing suspiciously similar to his father. “It helps that their dad is incredibly good looking.”

“True,” Javi said, trying for that cocky tone you loved but you didn’t miss the pink tinge to the tips of his ears. Compliments always got him like that, all red-faced and adorable - though he would never admit it.

A short nap later and you had one very excited Ellie fidgeting in the chair next to your bed, impatiently waiting to meet her baby brother. Javier stood behind her, quietly reminding her to be careful as you helped keep the squirming newborn steady in her lap. Your heart damn near exploded when she began cooing at her brother and very gently touching his soft cheeks. She was enamored by him, asking so many questions that you and her father could barely keep up.

“Can we share my bed?” “No, he can’t sleep in your bed, baby. He has to sleep in a special bed in mommy and daddy’s room.”

“Does he get a special seat like me?” “Yep! Daddy’s putting his carseat in next to yours right now. You’ll get to talk to him the whole way home.”

“Is he gonna cry a lot?” “Yeah, he will. That’s how babies let people know they need something since they don’t have words like we do.”

“Can I share my crackers with him?” “Not yet! Right now, he only drinks milk.” “Milk? Like for cereal?” “Kind of, but it comes from your mommy.” “What?!” “You ate the same thing when you were a little baby, too.” “What?!”

The entire drive home was full of little Ellie chatting away at her baby brother, mostly about the stuffed animals she had at home that she promised to show him the moment they got home. There was a small smile on Javier’s face as he drove, his hand curled around yours on the center console. He practically radiated contentment and damn did it look good on him.

----------

For what felt like the millionth time, you woke before the sun had a chance to rise. Though this time, it was to the feeling of a full bladder rather than the sound of a hungry baby, so that could be counted as a small win at the very least. You tried to ignore the ache in your healing body as you stumbled your way to and from the bathroom, near silent in your movements even though you were half asleep. It was a well practiced dance, getting out and back into bed without waking your sleeping children.

But something was off. The sheets were cooler than usual, missing the fire-like heat that Javier radiated constantly. You sat up, blinking against the drowsiness and darkness to see your husband passed out on the rocking chair in the corner of the room with Gabriel curled up on his bare chest. Skin-to-skin contact was something Javier couldn’t get enough of. He told you how close it made him feel to his son and you couldn’t complain. It was a precious sight. Avoiding the creaky floorboards, you carefully covered Gabriel with a soft baby blanket and smoothed it down his back.

“S’wrong?” Javier mumbled, words slurred with sleep, his eyes barely cracking open. On instinct, his hands shifted over the little baby asleep on him to hold him closer, even more secure.

“Shh, nothing’s wrong.” You soothed as you gently tucked his curls back away from his forehead. “Go back to sleep.”

“M’kay.” And with that his eyes were closed, back to dozing like he was never interrupted in the first place. You were glad. Tomorrow was an early morning, and paired with all of the midnight feedings and diaper changes, you all could use some rest. So you laid back down, sleep dragging you back under swiftly.

Javier was practically bouncing with nerves just hours later, even though he was trying not to show it. It brought you back to that first appointment when you were pregnant, only this time he held a sleeping one-month old who he was trying not to wake up with his nervousness.

“I just want it to go well.” He grumbled when you asked if he was okay.

“It will.” You reassured him, rubbing circles into his knee. “They’re both perfectly healthy, the pediatrician will tell you that, too.”

You were right - then again, when weren’t you? Gabe was a healthy nine and a half pounds, strong heart and lungs, and good reflexes. Javier was hooked on the pediatrician’s every word, nodding along and giving you a relieved smile with each positive statement. And of course, Ellie’s rambunctiousness had the pediatrician and nurses completely captivated as she told them all about her preschool and the antics she got up to while they checked her over.

The pride on Javier’s face with every positive comment and reassurance that both of his kids were on track developmentally made your heart flip. You felt so beyond lucky to have this little family of yours, with two beautiful children and the man you always loved. It felt too good to be true sometimes, especially when Javi pulled you close for a tight hug and a kiss to the side of your head before he worked to get one wiggly Gabe back into his onesie.

One impromptu trip to the park later and you and Javier had two very tired kids on your hands. Ellie was already passed out by the time Javier pulled into the driveway but Gabe was quickly venturing into ‘overtired’ territory. He was grumpy, wriggling around in your arms like he couldn’t get comfortable, all the while giving little whines and grunts that threatened to turn into full on wailing. He didn’t want milk, he didn’t need a diaper change, he just wanted to sleep but was too frustrated to let a nap take him.

“Give ‘em here.” Javier offered and you freely handed him over. The postpartum fatigue was no joke, and even though it was lessening with each passing day, you were damn tired so you had no issue with letting your husband put the baby down for a nap. You curled up on the couch, not quite going to sleep but still letting your mind and body rest as you listened to Javi try to negotiate with Gabriel as if he were some sicario and not just a particularly stubborn baby.

“C’mon, little man. Just go to sleep. All of your problems if you went to sleep right now? Solved. Completely solved. Instead of crying you could just… go to sleep.” Javier whispered over the cooing and grunting of his son. “Oh, don’t give me that face, mister.”

You snorted a laugh - you knew exactly what face Gabe was pulling. His nose and eyebrows would scrunch up, lips pursed as he huffed angry breaths like a little baby bull. It was an exaggerated copy of the face Javier pulled anytime he was frustrated, which you found ridiculously adorable. Slowly, the grumpy grunts became more and more quiet until they disappeared completely, and a few moments later, Javier flopped down on the couch next to you with a sigh.

“Got him down.” Javi said as he pressed close to you, burying himself between the back of the couch and your body to press his face into your neck. A blanket of drowsiness must have settled over the entire house as both kids napped peacefully in their beds and you cuddled up to your husband in the living room. The both of you would doze until the sound of little feet on the hardwood or the sounds of a hungry baby woke you, and then it would be back on the grind of parenthood, but you knew… with Javier by your side, you could do it.

{Taglist}

@iamburdened @everyhowlmarksthedead @jenrebloggingfics @xserenax-13 @silverstarsandsuns @luminescentlily @peterpstuff @leonieb @lazybeeches @withasideofmeg @freeshavocadoooo @chattychell @ew-erin @i-ship-it-ironically @artsymaddie @mrsparknuts @wyn-dixie @notabotiswear @lunaserenade @jitterbugs927 @theorganasolo @the-witty-pen-name @northernpunk @lemonlime09 @la-lunaluna @andruxx @greeneyedblondie44 @bloodsuckingbastards @coldlilheart @gracie7209 @green-socks @paintballkid711 @lord-of-restingbiface @asta-lily @xgoldenjenny @mummifymecaptain @cjbtw @a-skov @himbotroy @xjsteph @marvelousmermaid @over300books @castleamc @darnitdraco @janebby @cannedsoupsucks @itssmashedavo @mtjoi @triggerhappyflygirl 

[raisinghellonstarbug]

Stumbled Into Laughter, Stumbled Into You - A James Acaster x Reader Story

Basic plot: The year is 2019, and life has been quite dull for you since working in a job that you hate for the past two years after graduating from university. You used to do stand up comedy at uni, but you’ve been putting off pursuing it due to lack of confidence and motivation. Your best mates decide to encourage you to try a comedy mic night for the first time ever and while there you incidentally run into an old mate of yours, comedian Rhys James. That’s when your life gets turned around as you end up diving into the world of the comedy circuit and becoming close with other famous British comedians. In the midst of it all, you end up meeting a particularly distinctive red headed fellow who might end up being the very thing that brings meaning to your life again.

*

A/N: Hello Acaster fans!

So this was an idea I have had in mind for the last few months and I finally finished the first chapter of my story!

Just so you know, the first chapter does not include James, but be patient as he will appear soon (but maybe not quite as soon as you hope). I do reckon it will be worth the wait for his appearance, or at least I hope the story is still enjoyable! It is a slow burn so if you are an inpatient person, then this story might not be for you ;)

You can read this chapter below or if you prefer, there is also the link to the chapter posted on Ao3 right here: https://archiveofourown.org/works/33748507

-

Rating: M

Chapter 1 word length: 2326

Characters: James Acaster (duh), Original Female Characters(s), Original Male Character(s), Rhys James, Ed Gamble, Nish Kumar, Josh Widdicombe

Relationships: James Acaster x Reader/you, Original female character/Original Male character

Story tags: Romantic comedy, domestic fluff, slow burn, fluff and smut, British comedy, eventual relationships

Tagging: @laurabeech @rilannon @jasclearwaters @marklily @queensantiagoofthe99

Chapter 1 - Summer 2019

You were sitting at your desk at your mundane job, practically ready to blow your brains out on the usual, dull Thursday afternoon. It was really warm and stuffy inside the fifteen story office block building situated in Canary Wharf. This was a place you found yourself five days a week, doing the typical 9 to 5 hours. A usual day for a usual person.

Your job wasn’t a particularly riveting one. As an underwriter for an insurance company, some days could get especially boring. You knew how to do the job well, but it was not something you really loved. It involved all kinds of clients and claims in paperwork and it sometimes felt tedious and unfulfilling. But hey, it still paid your share of rent and bills. At least you could say you could manage in the hustle and bustle of the London lifestyle.

It was nearly hometime and you were itching to get home and relax. But before that could happen, there were those last set of insurance cover forms you had to copy to get sent to the HR department. And so you typed away on your laptop, clickety clack, clickety clack… the minutes went by like a chalk on a blackboard, scraping away at a snail’s pace.

You put your full force of concentration on the documents on the screen until it was finally done. A sense of achievement was necessary in these moments despite your lack of enthusiasm. It was in the little victories you reminded yourself. You rubbed the sweat from the July heat off your forehead.

* * *

The last 2 hours eventually passed by and it was soon the rush to get out of the door before you got held up by your colleagues. They were nice enough, but sometimes they could hold you back for half an hour chatting when you just wanted to get home, or your manager might try and get you to stay an hour overtime.

Thankfully you did get out promptly, and as you ran and dashed out of the office building saying brisk goodbyes to coworkers, you managed to make it to the tube with the train just arriving on time. But not without being moderately sweaty and hot though. Bloody stuffy platforms.

As expected it was still a busy train with plenty of 5pm finishers getting themselves situated on the half crowded carriages, but as it was only 10 past, it wasn't the worst time of day for commuting yet.

You perched yourself on one of the tube’s seats and let your shoulders drop, having held the tension in your body from sitting at a desk all day. You placed your head slightly back, balancing it on the window of the train. You looked up momentarily above you and then lifted your head back up to look at your phone and choose a song to listen to on Spotify through your wireless earphones.

The streams of sound from one of your favourite songs began to play softly in your ears and you smiled, knowing that the song gave you a little bit of wistful joy. You started mouthing the words.

Call it all for nothing, but I'd rather be nothing to you. Than be a part of something, something that I didn’t do (Best to You - Blood Orange).

The words half mean something but not necessarily anything. You began to wonder about being part of something that you’re not.

I just wish I could float away from my unexciting existence… you thought to yourself.

It sometimes occurred to you that you might have wanted something more out of life, but weren’t entirely sure what. It doesn’t make you dreadfully sad, but you know that life for you hasn’t exactly been the best it could be, and that perhaps something was missing. You wish you knew what it was.

You sighed, ignoring the feeling of sorrow wash over you momentarily and propped yourself back up in the uncomfortable seat of the train. You tried to keep yourself awake so that you wouldn’t miss your stop. The music continued through your ears.

* * *

You opened the door of the three bedroom flat that you had been residing in for the last two years with your flatmates and sighed with relief that you had finally reached home. You hurried to get your handbag off your shoulder and your shoes off, placing them on the rack next to the front door and walked through the hallway.

The minute you poked your head through to the lounge, bellowing a faint hello to whoever was around, you were suddenly greeted by one of your best friends and flatmates, Grace.

“Ahh Y/n! You’re home. Thank christ!”

She grabbed you and reached her arms around to embrace you tightly. You were perplexed by this gesture as it was so random and unusual given that Grace lived with you and saw you everyday of the week. You frowned and reluctantly placed your arms around her to return the hug.

As she then let go, she looked at you with urgency in her eyes and shrieked with excitement, “Oh Y/n guess what? It looks like I’m up for a promotion! Can you believe it?”

Now processing the reason for such an embrace, you raised your eyebrows in glee and smiled proudly, gushing back to your best mate who was obviously chuffed by the matter.

“Oh wow Grace, that's fantastic! I mean, finally. It is about bloody time!”

She smiled, “Yes I guess it is. But I mustn't get too excited. I haven’t officially got the promotion yet.”

“Ah but no. I’m not having any of that. You will get that promotion. It is a guarantee. They would be idiots to not give it to you.” Grace rolled her eyes and bit her lip. She reluctantly nodded and agreed.

The smell of food distracted you momentarily from the conversation. It was a particularly appetising smell.

Grace uttered, “Yes that smell is good isn’t it? Theo insisted on cooking us a nice meal for me as a celebration.”

You smiled knowingly, having known about how Grace and Theo had been in relationship limbo ever since you three became close friends at university. You knew they both had feelings for each other but often danced around the subject, completely oblivious to one another’s obvious attraction to the other. You reckoned they had to do something about it one day.

“Thank fuck. I wasn’t prepared to make dinner tonight. I am too tired for that.”

Grace then had her worried face on. She instantly knew, as she knew you too well, but funnily enough never picked up on Theo’s emotions despite constantly wondering about them, that something was wrong.

“Are you ok babe?” she asked with a look of pity that you scornfully resented.

You sighed, half lying, “Yes. I’m fine. Just tired is all.”

You made a beeline for the couch knowing full well that you were going to talk about it whether you liked it or not. You knew that Grace would see right through your dishonesty and insist that you told her the problem.

So you waited until Grace inevitably sat next to you and gave you that sympathy look she always gave you before coming out with the concerns that were floating around your brain.

“OK fine. I know you won’t leave me alone unless I tell you.”

“Ahh, you know me so well…”

“Yes, just as you know me. I’m just- I’m fed up. Work was slow. I don’t really feel like I’m associated with my life. I feel... disconnected, I guess.”

“Do you have any idea why?”

You shrugged and looked down at the floor and then back at Grace smiling sheepishly, “I don’t know. Maybe I’m not- not fulfilled? I just don’t thoroughly enjoy my life right now.”

Grace nodded and put a hand on your leg. You twitched your face in slight discomfort. You hated it when you were given sympathy for something that seemed so miniscule. It wasn’t like you were dying.

It was times like this when you just wanted to curl up in your bed, eat a tub of ice cream and watch your favourite comedy programmes. 8 Out of 10 Cats Does Countdown sprang to mind.

As you sat in momentary silence for a bit, Theo came waltzing through from the kitchen with his silly apron on that had a naked man’s body printed on it, and a spatula in his hand. He smiled at you.

“I thought I heard your voice. I hope meatballs for dinner are good tonight. Not mine of course,” gesturing to the apron as he said it.

You shook your head at Theo’s poor dad joke and stood up to hug him. You realised that you must be really down in the dumps to be hugging Theo. It was his turn to be confused. He looked towards Grace wide eyed.

“She’s had a particularly tough day. But mind you babe, you’ve kinda been like this for weeks now.”

You let go of Theo and turned to Grace, frowning and feeling slightly defensive. You placed a hand on your hip.

“Been like what? I’ve just been a bit fed up, that's all.”

“Yes but it’s not just a bit fed up. You said so yourself you feel disconnected. We’ve been waiting for you to say it.”

You looked to Theo and he nodded gently in agreement.

“Ok… but, nothing is really wrong exactly. My life is fine.”

“Fine, yes. But not amazing. We know it’s getting you down. And the job is the problem.”

“But I’m good at it. And it pays the bills. What else am I supposed to do?”

Grace then looked away from your eyes then, twitching her lip and looking as though she was holding something back. She then sighed and began to admit something you had not been expecting.

“OK look. We know what you can do. Theo and I have figured it out. We can manage money wise. It will be tight, but if you quit your job we should be able to help you out for a little bit.”

Your eyes grew wider than large saucepans. You were totally bewildered and your mouth slightly agape.

“What? Quit my job? Why? What work would I get instead?”

“Well, maybe you won't quit your job yet. Maybe you’re right, that's too hasty. Perhaps what I’m trying to say is-”

Theo then chimed in, “-what Grace is trying to say is…”

You smirked to yourself. How do they not realise that they’re already a couple but without the sex? They’re practically married for christ sake.

“...we reckon that you need to pursue your passion. Perhaps stop wasting your talents in an office job that you hate.”

Grace continued, “yes exactly. We have had an idea in mind. See, we want you to go to this thing… it’s no biggie but well, we’ve already booked it for you.”

Your mind was racing. You couldn’t understand anything that they were saying to you. It was all too much for you to manage.

“Booked what for me? What the hell are you both going on about?”

They both looked at each other with reluctance, pondering the moment and whether to tell you the whole truth. They both shrugged and Grace was then pulling her phone out, this whole conversation beginning to appear as though they had been trying to practice it.

Suddenly Grace’s phone screen was wavering in your face. You moved your head closer to see a photo on the screen. It was a comedy club night poster. Incidentally, it was an open mic night event happening on Saturday night. You began to then put the puzzle pieces together. You folded your arms and frowned heavily.

“What the fuck have you two done now?”

Theo softly spoke, “We… booked you a slot to do that comedy open mic event thing, on Saturday night.”

“Wait. As in to perform? You can’t be serious-”

Grace tried to reassure you and grabbed your arm.

“Look, we know it might seem daunting, but we just wanted to see you happy again. It’s been two years since we graduated and you haven’t performed since then. We thought it might be good to encourage you to perform again. You were always funny to us. And people at uni thought so too. You have the stand up talent, Y/n.”

You could not process anymore. You shook your head in disbelief and placed your head in your hands, rubbing your eyes from sudden exhaustion. You then threw your hands up in exasperation. It was not possible. You could not do that again.

Fucking no way. I can’t be on stage again! It’s too scary. University pub nights are one thing but a comedy club?

You shook your head again and placed your hands on your hips. Grace tried to speak up again seeing the frustration painted across your face. In fact it was anger that your friends chose to do this without your say so.

“Y/n…”

“No. Nope. I’m not doing it. No.”

“But Y/n, we were also going to tell you that Theo is also thinking of doing the same thing! He wants to do his music again. What harm would it be for you to rejuvenate your comedy skills? Surely you can write a quick couple of gags. Nothing strenuous. You have your old material from university, right?”

You had to get out of the room. Nothing that they were saying to you could be fully accepted at that moment.

You then gave them no choice but to let you go with your head in a flurry. They both watched you leave the room, mumbling something along the lines of I’m not really hungry anymore, I’m going to bed. Soon after, you darted across the other end of the hallway, ill-tempered and almost seething, and slammed your bedroom door shut.

[moonlit-han]

nxt 2 u: mornings with stray kids ↠ all members

genre: imagine/reaction, fluff, domestic bliss, established relationship au word count: 3k warnings: highly suggestive, 18+ themes, swearing request: yes but also no? a/n: femme-leaning reader~

✧ masterlist & tag list info in bio ✧

↠↞

bang chan

you roll over at the sound of chan mumbling in his sleep

he kinda wakes up

just a little blearily

and gives you this huge smile (♡‿♡)

bc you're actually there, the love of his life

and he still can't believe he's lucky enough to wake up beside you every day

so you snuggle closer and kiss his nose

then his eyelids

and finally his mouth so gently

channie just curls more tightly to you and pulls you to his chest

his hair is all tousled in the cutest way

like one part of it is sticking up like a lil cat ear (or wolf ear, since it's chan)

and you kinda just melt when you notice it

you can’t resist combing your fingers through his hair

when he finally wakes up

chan peppers your face with kisses, 

carefully sliding on top of you

to then slowly, so slowly kiss you

his hands travel all over you, slipping under the old t-shirt of his you’re wearing

and soon you’re wriggling under him, wanting more (*/ω＼)

so chan works what seems like magic with his hands and/or mouth

until your toes are curl and you feel like you’re going to burst

but chan just grins and rolls off the bed

leaving you gasping and mildly grumpy ˚‧º·(˚ ˃̣̣̥⌓˂̣̣̥ )‧º·˚

but you still get up to make blueberry pancakes

bc it’s saturday and that means blueberry pancakes  ( ｀^´ )ﾉ*:・ﾟ✧

so you’re standing at the counter, combining the ingredients and waiting for the griddle to heat up

chan comes in after taking a shower

and is so overcome with tenderness at how sweet you look

just standing there in the kitchen,

still in his t-shirt and your underpants

so he wraps his arms around you from behind

and presses himself against you, teasing again a little

he nuzzles your neck, just begging for kisses

so soon, the stove is turned off and breakfast almost forgotten

as you stumble, giggling, back into the bedroom to cuddle and kiss more

and when you’re just about falling asleep

bc who needs to be awake on a saturday morning?! ┐(︶▽︶)┌

chan looks just as adorable and soft as he did earlier in the day

and you let him curl into your arms again

as you hold him and kiss the top of his head

adfghakldfhg he's just the sweetest floofkins (*´▽`*)

lee minho

i know i’ve compared minho to a cat before

but hear me out

minho in the mornings is mildly hilarious

bc even if he’s completely curled into a ball when he falls asleep

or spooning you sweetly

or whatever other fascinating position you fall asleep in together

he ends up stretched out

with at least one arm and one leg thrown over you

snoring softly

just. like. a. cat.

and you often find yourself unable to move

bc minho’s surprisingly heavy when he’s asleep

complete deadweight (╥ᆺ╥；)

but as soon as you brush the little stray hairs from his forehead

and kiss his shoulder

he stirs and groans a little, just settling deeper into the mattress

….which means more snugly onto you

heCk (￢_￢;)

so you wriggle around a little more

and finally manage to get your leg free from underneath of minho’s

as usual, you climb on top of minho and sit squarely on top of him

………

and start tickling him (≧◡≦)

THAT definitely wakes minho up

his lips poke out a little in a pout, all of their own accord

but he can’t really do anything about the fact that you’re tickling him

bc you’re sitting right on his hips, pinning him to the bed

the ~intimacy~ of the position, despite the fact that you’re tickling him, is not lost on either of you

and, being the little shit that he is, minho bucks his hips up once or twice

you just give him a mock glare and say “bad kitty”

before tickling him with renewed enthusiasm

(not to mention giving him little kisses on the neck and teasing ones on the ear)

once his ribs start to hurt from laughing,

minho just pulls you into a deep kiss

and you both relax

you love how sweet he is in the morning

nothing is hurried nor desperate

bc all minho wants to do is softly show you how much he loves you

you share little, soft touches that nonetheless feel like the most important things in the world

seo changbin

changbin’s arms around you is the best thing in the world

you’re barely awake and everything is blissful softness

if your feelings and the atmosphere could be described as a color,

it would be peach~

golden and warm, with just a hint of sweetness ;)

you snuggle into changbin’s chest, nestling your hips more closely with his

and you get a little kiss on the head

changbin is calm and cuddly in the mornings

and all he wants to do is hold you

sometimes you’ll end up with him closer than skin-to-skin

but it’s honestly more for comfort than anything else

how can he resist yet another way to be closer to you and cozy?

after awhile, you turn over slightly and kiss the underside of his chin

he giggle softly

……he’s a bit like totoro:

comfy

definitely a little magical

((yes, i’m still on my “changbin is a shapeshifting crow” agenda))

and just A Good BeanTM

(♡‿♡) (♡‿♡) (♡‿♡)

you scoot up onto the pillow a bit so you’re face-to-face

changbin just murmurs “hey baby” and gives you a lil kiss on the lips

his lips are so soft you feel like you’re going to melt

he makes sure to pull the blankets back over your shoulders so you aren’t cold

and he rubs your back in slow circles

tension you didn’t even know you were holding releases under his touch

and changbin’s hand drifts to your hip to hold you to him

you tangle your legs together

and he somehow pulls you closer

you’re really not sure how he manages it

but changbin can hold you and cuddle you so closely that you feel like you’re going to merge into one person

there’s nothing sexy about it or anything

it’s just that the warm, safe feeling you get is so amazing

neither of you are anywhere near fully awake

and drift in and out of sleep, sometimes shifting to a more comfortable position

when you finally wake, changbin is still sleeping soundly

you take the opportunity to stare at him

his hair is mussed (a bit wildly)

and he has the first little bits of stubble coming down from his sideburns

a little smile adorns his mouth, as if he’s dreaming about something lovely

((you. he’s dreaming about you :3 ))

you slip your arm up to stroke changbin’s face

your thumb passes over the rounded plane of his cheekbone

and, even in sleep, he leans into your touch

after a few more moments, you lightly kiss him awake

hwang hyunjin

you’d expect hyunjin to be a complete mess in the mornings

but he’s not

he’s actually organized

oh and since his hair can get aaaaaall over the place

he always makes sure to braid it out of the way at night

so in the mornings, little wisps of hair stick out from their appointed places

one of your morning habits is to delicately tuck those wisps of hair back into place

on the weekends, hyunjin is

so! excited!! to!!! cuddle!!!! you!!!!! ☆*:.｡.o(≧▽≦)o.｡.:*☆

and loves kinda pouncing on you as soon as your eyes open

kisses you all over

and rolls the two of you around on the bed

and he’s just holding your hips the entire time, rubbing small circles into them

as he kisses you so damn sweetly

alkdfhgskdjfh

and if you playfully nip at his bottom lip?

he’ll just do it right back

your rolling around has turned into more too many times for you to count

and honestly, it’s kinda the best

so sweet and slow

like you’re the most precious jewel in the world

he  t a k e s  h i s  s w e e t  t i m e (￣～￣ )

and sometimes all you can do is hold on to the sheets for dear life

unless you’re supposed to meet your parents at 11 a.m.

in which case, you’d better be ready

gotta go fast, as they say~ (⊙‿⊙✿)  

but even then, mornings with hyunjin are still sweeter than caramel

his normally plump lips are even more so when he’s just woken up

and the way he squints his eyes against the sun?

that’s the cutest thing you’ve ever seen

sometimes he’s just calm in the mornings

and you lay your head on his chest

and listen to his heartbeat

as hyunjin strokes your hair and gives you a little neck massage

it’s so peaceful and you wouldn’t trade snuggling with hyunjin for the world

han jisung

does not want to get out of bed

nope

no fucking thank you ＼＼\٩(๑`^´๑)۶//／／

there really should be a sign on his door or bed like

WARNING: Do Not Try to Remove Squirrel from Natural Habitat!!!!!

secondary warning: squirrel may bite if forcibly removed from natural habitat

he will cling to you better than an octopus

alkjdhgadlkfjghadfkgjl

jisung nuzzles into your neck like there’s no tomorrow

and the loose strands of hair falling around his face tickle your skin a little

instead of kissing your neck over and over,

jisung just kinda pouts and keeps his lips lightly against your skin

it’s really sweet hhhhhh (o´▽`o)

if he’s ~ in the mood ~ be prepared for WhiningTM

and for your pajamas to disappear faster than chan’s ears turn red when he’s embarrassed

is it gonna be fast? slow? who knows! (・_・ )

let the fates decide and just go with it

bc either way, you’re going to need to change the sheets and take a shower

you may also find yourself turned into a burrito one morning

bc jisung loves all the blankets

and thinks you’re cute as hell all rolled up in them

…..like a burrito ｡･ﾟ(ﾟ⊃ω⊂ﾟ)ﾟ･｡

and he will immediately lay down on top of you, the burrito, and begin to munch

and by munch i mean kiss you so thoroughly you’ll barely remember your name

he only gets like that if he’s been awake for at least an hour

hhhhhhhh

so when he first opens his eyes, rubbing his face a little and yawning

his first inclination is to make sure you’re still there

and then he just snuggles closer, kinda tucking his head under your chin or on your shoulder

as you also wake up, you make sure to kiss his forehead and tell him you love him

it’s a little ritual almost~

you’d both miss it if you didn’t do that

and you just shift a bit so you can hold jisung even tighter,

threading your fingers through his hair

and kissing the tips of his ears, as if they have little points

you lay there together, just enjoying the warmth of not one, not two, not three, but four comfy blankets and each other

until jisung’s a bit more awake

his hair is so messy when he finally sits up

and his lips are a little dry and swollen from sleep

when he finally speaks, his voice is super husky and deeper than usual

and, frankly, you think it’s the hottest thing ever

when you’re together, he usually doesn’t wear a shirt to sleep, either

so in the morning you’re just blessed with the sight of a shirtless jisung

whose voice is at least half an octave lower and slightly gravelly

it’s just;;;

alkfhgalkdjfhgldkjfsjfhks

invariably, you end up pulling him right back down next to you and booping his nose

then kissing him

a lot

and, sometimes, you don’t get out of bed until noon

because why would you when it’s safe inside the blankets? (⌒▽⌒)♡

lee felix

wraps arms and legs (anything else he can manage but idk what) around you

bc damn it you’re there with him and you’re gonna be close!!!!

the cuddliest in the morning

but then again….will gladly wriggle down to the foot of the bed

and make you a scream

felix: softly, y/n!! don’t wake the neighbors!

y/n: how am i… supposed to- Fuck! stay quiet when you- damn it, ’lix… keep doing that!!?

*giggles from felix* (≧◡≦)

but most importantly

he literally just wants to hold you

and enjoys making you laugh by rumbling his voice in his chest

after all, it’s considerably easier to do first thing in the morning

and is quite proud of the fact that his voice is deeper in the mornings

yawns kinda loudly????

but does that slow eye and nose scrunch he does

to clear the sleep from his eyes a little

it’s the cutest thing ever

also learned the “make my significant other into a burrito” trick from jisung (-_-;)

so now you’re a burrito practically every single morning

there’s actually something comforting about being swaddled

and also like jisung

(((dear god they must share notes akhfskdhj)))

he flops down on top of you to cuddle the living daylights out of you

felix will give you all the gentle kisses in the world

definitely sings that frank sinatra song “fly me to the moon” to wake you up

before kissing each of your fingers, your palm, your wrist, and all the way up your arm before finally

finally

reaching your lips

and he just murmurs sweet nothings to you

as he kisses you every way and everywhere he knows how

felix likes to lay beside with you, hands laced together

and talk about what you’ll do together that day

bc there’s so much he wants to do with you (*¯ ³¯*)♡

and show you and cook for you

and he’s just so full of love

that he ends up bounding out of bed

and pulling you with him, even if you’re both still half-asleep

just so you can start your day together

although, you usually have to stop him from running out the door still in his pajamas

with the cutest bedhead ever

a small part of you wants to see what would happen if he went out like that

but then again…

you also want to be the only one who sees felix in such an utterly free state of being

kim seungmin

seungmin is extremely soft in the mornings

he really likes to just hold you to his chest with his cheek pressed against the top of your head

kisses your temple from time to time

and just holds you on top of him, hand pressed to the small of your back

he likes to tell you about the previous day when you’re just laying there together

and sometimes doesn’t mind if you fall back asleep while he’s talking

he actually finds it rather cute

seungmin likes to spoil you in the mornings

whatever that means to you

either food

(he’ll make you an amazing breakfast

like absolutely everything you could ever want

and probably more)

or ~ love ~

(…maybe, if you make a good case for it

does not take these things lightly (￣ヘ￣) )

or giving you a massage

whatever

you do like massages tho

and seungmin’s particularly good at them

he makes sure to get lotion or body oil

and that his hands are warm

bc no one likes a massage from someone with cold hands

then just methodically massages your back

he secretly likes the little noises you make when the tension releases from your muscles (✿´ ꒳ ` )

sometimes massages turn into making love

but usually not~

mornings are for slow relaxation

no raising of heartbeats or anything else

seungmin also likes to plan out days while still cuddling in bed

and grudgingly allows you to tease him

about his bedhead

or his bleary-eyed looks at you before he’s fully awake ╥﹏╥

or how he just wouldn’t move no matter what you did during the night

it was really quite amazing

..................

seungmin tends to mumble a lot in the mornings

it’s one of the few times he’ll snuggle into you

instead of holding you

he’ll just mumble incoherently

and you’ll be just falling asleep again

when he starts talking perfectly clearly about how much he loves you

you listen, trying to memorize exactly what he says

bc there’s absolutely nothing to distract him or filter the words

and he’s just…. talking

seungmin’s voice first thing in the morning is, of course, a bit lower from sleep

and you find it unbearably attractive

especially when he’s telling you he loves you (*/ω＼)｡ｏ♡

yang jeongin

kinda just slips his arm around your shoulder

kisses the top of your head

and murmurs “good morning sweetie”

before getting up quickly to brush his teeth

bc dear gods he just wants to feel clean;;;;

but!!

once he’s back, it’s time for sooooo many cuddles ( ◡‿◡ ♡)

you hadn’t necessarily fully enjoyed the experience of breakfast in bed

until you met jeongin

then, breakfast in bed on the weekends became normal!

and sometimes you’d even watch a show together

and cuddle and cuddle and cuddle and cuddle

when he started working out more, you were really excited

bc it meant more squish for you to cuddle on

ajdfgsdkjfhgaklj

he’s very playful in the mornings

and, like with minho, there ends up being lots of tickling

although, with jeongin, he’s doing the tickling

he’s in love with your giggle(*♡∀♡)(*♡∀♡)

and takes every opportunity to make you laugh just so he can hear it

jeongin is the poutiest in the mornings

like if you thought jisung can pout?

then…

well, no. jisung still wins the pouting contest

but jeongin comes in a close second!!!

but not even pouting to get something or get his way

just cutely pouting for the sake of looking cute (◕‿◕✿)

alkdhgsdfkjghal

and he just squishes you so tightly to his chest

you sometimes have to remind him that

in a perfect world

you’d like to breathe

one morning when you were being squeezed

so affectionately you didn’t even know what to do

you decided to kiss his collarbones

and it was all over from there

jeongin  m e l t s  if you kiss his collarbones

and if you kiss along them,

everything in his world is even better

but then if you decide to get inventive

and maybe take a lil soft nibble or lick?

it’s all over (⌒_⌒;)

he just gets so overwhelmed with love

and tenderness hhhhh

and sighs like a dramatic Victorian lady

the moment you start

therefore:

you are so not leaving that bed for at least another two hours

jeongin likes to make sure you’re nice and comfy

at all times

when in bed bc, just like his friends have taught him:

he will treat you like an angel.｡ｏ♡

[writefightandflightclub]

Somebody to love (PART 2/2): (Richard Alonso Muñoz x fem!reader)

Summary: PART ONE IS HERE. Whilst your neighbour, Richard, is in love with love, you are a little more commitment averse. When he performs a small act of kindness though, your feelings start to unravel, and you wonder if you may have found somebody to love - right next-door all along.

Richard is a sweet, gentle man, and so I hoped to create a sweet, gentle story. I hope you enjoy spending some time in it!

I HAVE POSTED THIS IN TWO PARTS, ONLY BECAUSE OF LENGTH. WHILST YOU COULD PROBABLY(?) READ EITHER PART AS A STANDLONE, THEY ARE MEANT TO WORK TOGETHER.

Genre / tropes: pining, friends to lovers (sort of - neighbours to lovers), getting together, domesticity, fluff, smut, nothing bad happens, ends happily, quite a slow burn for a one-shot, I guess?

Author’s note: This is part of my friends to lovers event, prompt requested by @foxilayde​  who I adore and you should too. Prompt was: he does something utterly mundane which shows how well he knows you, and your feelings hit you. I took some liberties with the prompt, and there is zero pressure to read this - IT WAS SUPPOSED TO BE A BLURB! :P More of these requests in pinned post!

Tags: (will add tomorrow)

Warnings/ Ratings:

PART ONE (Mature, 18+ ONLY):  swearing; sexual themes (erotic poetry, thirsty internal monologue, sexual tension); food themes inc. mentions/ consumption; family mentions - reader has nieces but they need not be biological; brief mentions of the prison system - Richard is a Corrections Officer; exceedingly brief mention of the Holocaust in context of a non-fiction book Richard is reading (I believe this is a canon read but may be wrong); loneliness (theme, not too angsty); self-esteem issues if you squint.

PART TWO: (Explicit, 18+ ONLY): swearing; explicit sex, including - oral m + f receiving; unprotected vaginal sex; creampie; f squirting (first time doing so); well-endowed man, ahem.

Word count: 10k for part 1, 9k for part 2.

The date has been flawless. The best date you’ve had.

Richard is amazing to talk to and appealing to look at. He makes you feel safe and secure, yet also ignited and pleasantly destabilised. His laugh is music. His smile is sunshine. He is at times serious and in other moments delightfully playful. His gentle, quiet nature suckers you in to him, and once you are in the circumference of his warmth, you simply don’t want to leave.

You want to treat this special man to all the love he deserves.

You reflect, as you walk together towards your street, hand-in-hand, that it feels as though you’ve known him for years - and, of course, you have. You simply hadn’t been paying adequate attention. It is evident that Richard has, however. That he already knows you and understands you better than you could have imagined.

So, now, as you step up on to your porch, Richard stands a couple of steps below you, his cola-coloured eyes big and gentle and sparkling as he looks up at you. You loop your arms so that they rest on his shoulders, your fingers dipping into the glorious manicured curls at the nape of his neck. You had hoped that Richard might respond by winding his arms around your waist -or perhaps gripping your hips or your ass, to be quite honest- but instead, he stands there, taut with nerves, and yet his arms hung limply by his sides.

He seems so responsive; so receptive to every small touch you give him, the man humming lightly as you stroke his soft skin, and yet, he hasn’t returned the favour. You wish he would touch you, but, in resignation, you smile softly, guessing that if Richard won’t take the initiative, you will simply have to. After all, you’ve been desperate to kiss the man all evening. So, with a gentle smile and a search of his eyes, you shift one hand to cup his shapely chin, tipping his face up towards you.

“I want to kiss you, Richard. Is that okay with you?”

Keenly, he lets out a half-strangled affirmation, the weight of his plea creasing the space between his brows. “Please.”

And so, you pick up his unsure arms and you guide them around your waist, until his hands tentatively settle, polite but also firm and broad and warm around you, and you rehoop your arms around his neck, readying to move in for the kill.

Dipping your head down, you inch yourself closer and closer towards Richard’s lips, and you wonder if his heart is hammering the way yours is. You take in the beautiful sight of his eyes fanning closed and chin tilting up eagerly towards you, before your own eyes follow suit, your noses bumping awkwardly as you tilt around each other. The first sensation you feel is his moustache, the thick brush of it tickling your lips and causing you to faintly moan as you feel this small indication of his closeness. This breathy, broken sound from you causes Richard’s hands to tighten around your waist, finally, and with either a surge of bravery or a collapsing of his resolve -perhaps both- it is he who closes the remaining distance, his warm lips keenly meeting yours.

At first, it is a chaste, closed-lipped kiss that, even so, makes your legs tremble almost immediately. His soft lips are so moreish that when you break from him, leaning your forehead against Richard’s -both your chests heaving and your breaths practically one- you immediately sink back again to his lips, needing to taste him again.

You smile into the kiss as you become accustomed to the sensation of that glorious moustache, scraping lightly against your upper lip and cheek and nose, and you feel desire sink all the way through the pit of you like a stone as Richard’s tongue delves gently into your mouth. This surge of his kiss is like nothing you have felt before, and whilst Richard may seem timid, and while his ministrations may be gentle and slow, you could swear you have never felt a more assured tongue in your life.

“Do you want to come inside?” you ask urgently, your voice a broken, breathy thing, the air for your words ripped from his lips.

“Yes. Yes, I’d like to, very much,” Richard answers just as quickly, his eyes dancing with a delicious brewing heat as you take his hand and lead him into your home.

Your lips find him again as shoes and jackets are shrugged off, strewn haphazardly in the hallway, his kisses slow-moving and deliciously sweet, sending a cloying desire like warmed syrup sinking to the pit of you. Your stomach flips each time you feel his tongue against yours, as though your core intends to mirror the languid circling of his tongue, and suddenly you are already throbbing there, thinking of where these burgeoning kisses might be leading.

“You’re so beautiful,” Richard breathes, sinking on to your lips again, and your legs weakening beneath you.

You lead Richard deeper inside your home, and you vaguely consider your options, but with this hazy, hungry heat all around you, dragging him to your bedroom by the hand seems like the only viable course of action. 

“Do you... want to come to my bed with me?” you ask, voice levelled with need and stomach buzzing with the pleasant thrum of nerves.

He answers affirmatively and you waste no time, until you are both seated on the edge of your bed, continuing your slow, sensual make-out session, bodies twisted towards each other. Richard kisses you deeply, opening your mouth up to him, until he breaks from you with a wracked groan, squirming with slight discomfort and apology as he adjusts himself, to better accommodate the growing bulge between his legs.

When he spreads his denim-clad thighs, like that, they look so sturdy and appealing that you want to climb him. Want to straddle his lap and writhe your heat right over his tenting arousal.

Still, you hesitate. He’s eager, you know that much; and God, so are you. However, he still seems nervous about reaching out to you or taking the lead. His hands never stray far from zones he may consider more polite or more comfortable, despite the fact he has happily allowed your hand to inch up and up his clothed thigh and towards that tenting crotch of his, his pretty, wracked moans spurring you on.

So, as he breaks from you, momentarily, you pull back to search his eyes.

“Would you… Would you like to touch me, Richard?” you suspire, wanting to progress this further, but only if he’s comfortable. 

As you regard him, you note that you have never seen a man look quite so dishevelled with need - both literally and figuratively. Your hands have upset his perfectly fixed curls, mussed tendrils now draping over his forehead. His kiss-plumped lips are parted to accommodate his now ragged breaths, and he looks almost forlorn - pained with it, as though he might end if he isn’t kissing you again within moments. “Yes. Please.”

“Where?”

“Everywhere,” he responds, brow furrowed with weighty desire and eyes searching yours.

The tone with which he responds to you, sunken with need, has a hard swallow trailing down your throat. An immediate and impossible ache building between your legs.

“How about… here?”, you say tentatively, gingerly taking his hand, and moving it beneath the fabric of your dress until his warm fingers meet the bare flesh of your thighs. His thumb instantly sinks in to knead you as he works his hand up further, inching towards your core, exactly where you need him. 

“God, you’re so soft. You feel so good.”

“C-can I touch you?” you ask, as he inches higher, and it comes out as a plea. You need to. Need to touch him. Everywhere. You need to feel him under your hand - feel him all over you. On you. Against you. Buried in you. Fuck, you need him.

With your question though, Richard’s hungry eyes are momentarily clouded by apprehension, and so, you take a moment to rein in your snowballing desire; to properly check-in with him.

“Let’s talk for a minute. Can I do anything to make you feel more comfortable?” your voice soft and soothing, your hand smoothing over his thigh.

Richard flutters his eyelashes and looks down at his lap, withdrawing his hand from under your dress. Your skin shivers, instantly cold with the loss of him. He nods, slowly, soberly, his face set and moustache downturned. Then, when his words come, his voice is small and sad. “I asked my buddy at work for advice. Said I had a date with someone out of my league. Somebody so perfect, and that I didn’t want to mess it up.”

Your eyebrows knit together. You shake your head in disbelief. Your one single desire now, is to set his misapprehension to rest. “Fuck that. I’m not out of your league, Richard. You’re gorgeous. You’re perfect.” You cup his cheek again, planting a kiss on that now familiar spot, right on the tip of his cheekbone, a spot perfectly contoured to your lips.

His eyes flick back up to yours, shining with gratitude, but he still looks unsure.

“Perfect,” you repeat, dipping to press a kiss to his opposite cheek. “Gorgeous.” To the tip of his nose. “Sexy.” To the corner of his lips. “Handsome.” To the column of his neck. Meanwhile, smoothing your hand over his thigh and arm and chest, keeping your desire stoked but mainly aiming to offer him comfort, and to bolster his wavering confidence. 

A smile claims Richards eyes, at least, if not his lips, and he brings his hand to your face, caressing you gently in gratitude. You pull up to search his eyes and his expression says it all.

You are beautiful.

And, despite his nervousness, his timidness, when Richard next speaks, there is no hint of self-consciousness in his voice. Not an ounce, his kind eyes backlit with lust. With that now familiar, gentle, nuanced heat. “He said… Said that I should eat you out like a man starved.”

To your credit, you try to speak. You really do, your mouth opening and closing again wordlessly, but all of a sudden, you have lost language. You can barely breathe. Can barely form a coherent thought. Barely an incoherent one. Barely a -

“Would you like it? If I did that, bonita?”

You whimper. You actually whimper, as he sits there, coolly holding your face in his broad palm, caressing you with the pad of his thumb. Behaving as though he’s an innocent thing and yet making you feel like this.

“I would not be. Opposed to. That,” you muddle out, barely, your voice trembling with need. An insistent pulse between your legs, causing you to press them tightly up against one another, just for a morsel of relief. “But… you. Ohhh.” His thumb brushes over your cheek. Towards your mouth. “Y-you don’t have to. Um.” Skims your lower lip. “Ahhh. Do. Anything you. Uh. Don’t want. To.” The pad of his thumb pushes inside, just deep enough for the tip of your tongue to meet it as he grazes over you. “Uhhh.”

Richard nods in understanding, and when your tongue fleets out to taste the tip of him, his eyes darken deliciously, pupils lust-blown.

You, meanwhile, are vapour. Your breath is ragged. Your arousal is soaking through your dress. You can feel it.  Feel your own slick, a mess on your thighs.

And yet, you can tell there is more he wants to say, so you encourage him to go on. “Richard?” you plead.

“I... I want it to be perfect for you. You’re so perfect. But I...” his moustache twitches as he sucks his own lips between his teeth. His hands drop dejectedly into his lap, and he can’t meet your eyes, fixing his gaze on a spot of carpet. “I want to. So much. I‘m aching for you.”

Then what? You search his beautiful big eyes, reaching up to gently tuck a cute, hanging strand of curls away from his eyes and urging him to go on.

He reaches behind his head, to self-consciously stroke the nape of his neck. “The last woman I was with... It wasn’t... She didn’t like the moustache. And she... she said I was... too big.”

Fuck.

Your hand drops from his face into your lap, and your jaw slackens in shock as you let his words sink in. Meanwhile, his face becomes tinged again with that undertone of crimson you’re becoming rather familiar with.

Too big?

“Fuck, Richard,” you breathe -or, rather, can barely breathe- as he looks up at you from beneath his lashes, nervously, humbly awaiting your reaction. He really has no idea what he’s doing to you, does he? How perfect he is? You can feel the heavy pulse of desire throbbing between your legs once more - even more so now. A slow-crawling heat under your skin.

Can he really be so... endowed?

Can he really be so shy and so hot at the same time? (Yes, apparently, he can.)

You gulp. You take in a breath to speak and then literally say nothing. You consider, so help you, burying your face in the mattress and silently screaming. But, somehow, you hold it together.

“That’s. Wow. Well, we can definitely figure that out. Together, Richard. Can work around… That,” you reassure, your blood rushing in your ears, your hand slowly trailing back up his thigh. “Will you… will you let me take care of you?”

Looking reassured, he nods. He smiles softly. His eyes ardent as he looks at you.

You reinstate your hand on to his sturdy thigh, and you begin your slow, languorous crawl up towards his crotch, following the seam of his pants like a trailing spark along a fuse line. As you inch further, his eyes flutter shut and he groans when you reach the junction of his legs, lightly ghosting your fingers along his straining zipper.

“Can I... see?” you purr. “Are you hard for me, sweet man? Can I take you out of your pants?” 

“Yes,” he nods. “Yes. Please.”

You proceed when Richard eagerly shifts position for you, parting his thighs for you and leaning back on his hands so that you’re able to unbuckle his belt, and to slowly release his zipper.

You’re playing really well at having any shred of self-control left, for his sake, but in reality, you’re a trembling, wet mess, overtaken by a furious, barrelling need. You simply can’t take this. Shit, you wonder if you will actually, very literally, be able to take this. Take him. Still, you certainly don’t want to stop, and so, with Richard’s cooperation you tug his jeans and his boxers down on his hips, and, biting down on your lip, you release his proud length.  

“Fuck,” you say, almost inaudibly as you drink the sight of him in.

He wasn’t exaggerating. He is big. He’s long, but perhaps not the longest you’ve ever had – a fact you are honestly thankful for. He certainly is thick too – especially thick, his contoured head ruddy and gleaming for you. Launched on an urgent breath, you ask if you can touch him, and when he encourages you, you wrap your fingers around his shaft, his length warm and heavy in your hand. He fills the circumference of you in such a pleasing way, hard and velvety and thickly veined. He eagerly strains against you; engorging even further against your touch.

“What do you think?” he asks shyly, intently watching your fingers tease and skim and squeeze him. “Can you work with this?”

“You’re perfect. Fuck, Richard. This is the most beautiful cock I’ve ever seen.”

“You mean it?” he asks, modest as ever.

“Every inch of you is perfect, sweet man.” You want to prove it to him. And you know exactly how. “D-do you… Do you want to feel how wet you’ve made me? How much I want you, Richard?”

“Please,” he begs hoarsely, his voice quaking, desire knotting his brows, and, you stretch out on the bed beside his already half-reclined form, the mattress dipping beneath you. Eagerly, you return his hand to your thigh, where his girthy fingers resume their slow path towards your core. This time though, Richard doesn’t stop. Positioning himself, propped on one elbow, he turns on to his side, his other hand travelling under your dress - inching, achingly slow, all the way up your thigh. He traces a warm, steady, torturously slow pressure along your clothed slit, over your aching nub, until he reaches the top hem of your panties -silly, silky little things- and then, he pushes the elastic hem aside, dipping his two, thick middle fingers down into your folds, gliding effortlessly through your slick until he curls towards your entrance.

You shudder from his touch, submitting an open-mouthed moan to him already as he skims through your wetness, his half-bared cock twitching against his soft, rounded stomach in response to the feel of you. The sound of you.

He pulses and swirls his fingers up and down over your heat, simply gathering and playing with your arousal, and you can imagine what he is feeling beneath his fingers. You can hear your own wetness, your sweet nectar aiming to sucker him in.

It works.

“Please. Can I taste you?” he asks, in that wrecked voice again- the one which ends you.

Your eyes traverse him, hungrily. His mouth tipped open, needy breaths circling beneath that flourishing facial hair. His forearm exposed and veins popping as he works his fingers against you. His cock. Fuck. His delicious cock looks so hard and ruddy, the head of him practically crimson -fit to burst already- and the man must need some relief, and yet all he can think of is sinking his mouth to you? Not that you’re complaining, mind you.

What most gets you though – still – are his eyes. Those gentle, heat-infused, heavy-lidded, lust-laden, adoring, cola-coloured eyes.

Still, you throw your head back, as his fingertips continue to haphazardly explore your folds, your hips bucking and writhing readily, messily against his fingers. “You… ohhhh. You don’t have to do what your buddy said, you know? Only if you want.”

“I want to. I want to taste you, please. Hermosa. Please.”

Fuck, those beautiful brown eyes.

You never imagined you would end the evening with this handsome man begging to eat you out, and you don’t have it in you to resist, not even for a moment. Instead, you nod eagerly, scrambling to spread your thighs for him and hitching your dress up over your hips, opening for him with slick and eager hinges. Richard’s exposed member gleams for you, peeking out from his jeans, and each item of his clothing now looks like it is an impediment; however, he wastes no time on that. Instead, he simply begins a slow, deliberate peel of your panties down to your ankles, and, as you expel a string of affirmatives and pleas into the air, he sinks his face towards your heat.

You weren’t ready for it. You weren’t ready for the feel of his supple, eager tongue writhing against you, nor the feel of his lips engulfing you, his moustache scraping your sensitive skin ever so slightly as he munches over your clit. You weren’t wrong either - he is definitely, unequivocally not afraid to make a mess of himself. At all. In fact, you wonder if he has forgotten this is for you, as he truly does seem intent on tasting you, drinking from you as though he’s slurping on a milkshake, or relishing a cherry sucker. You think he might drink you dry. Or, you would think so, except you are getting wetter, as his assured, quietly confident tongue laps and probes and licks at everywhere it counts.

“Unnng. Dulce. Como duraznos en almíbar,” he praises into your heat.

Sweet. Like peaches in syrup.

You mewl for him. You writhe yourself desperately, embarrassingly, but this man moans eagerly into your heat as if he’s gaining as much pleasure from this as you are. That can’t possibly be true, however. It can’t be true because you are positively alight with ecstasy. You are experiencing such an abundance of it that you can scarce handle it, pleasure both balling and knotting tightly at your centre, and zipping out to every extremity. Your body bows and bucks under the weight of it and at the same time soars, weightless, to another plane.

When you think you couldn’t possibly take any more, Richard’s thumb begins a slow circle of your entrance, tracing around you. Dipping in to you. When his thumb slips in to fully puncture your heat, your juices spill over him, like you truly are a ruined peach, your fists clenching wildly in the sheets. You are his fruit. His ruined, ravaged fruit, existing and perishing only on his tongue. Coming to life and ending when he tastes you.

“Fuck, Richard!” you exclaim, as your peak threatens to overtake you so soon, and you worry that the sound was too weak for him to hear it; however, the man is apparently attentive as ever, even when he’s lost in between your thighs. He stops immediately, lifting his pretty eyes to yours, running his hands up and down along your quivering legs, trailing his fingers reverently over your mound and your patch of hair.

“You’re shaking, bonita,” he says, sounding awed.

“F-feels too good. But I want you inside me. I need you. Please. Will you – W-will you undress and lie down for me?”

It’s all you want. He is all you want. And you can’t explain why, but when you do fall apart for him, you need it to be together. Perhaps, so that when you unravel, you can bind yourself to him. You will tie those knots so tightly, you think, that they will not come undone.

In response to your request, Richard looks positively wrecked with need -and still a little nervous- but he obliges you, and your eyes keenly watch him as he slowly relinquishes his clothes. First his lower half, jeans kicked off to the floor. Then his shirt. He hesitates, when it comes to his white undervest. He looks so appealing in it that you wouldn’t mind if he kept it on; and yet, you are endlessly pleased when he peels it over his head, revealing his smooth chest and stomach and arms to you, your hungry eyes wandering over his form.

“Mmm. Gorgeous man,” you praise, rolling onto all fours with a surging, tidal wave of desire, trailing kisses and skimming your hot, wet mouth all the way down his bared torso as he kneels on the bed. He tastes faintly of sweat; salt on your tongue.

“Tell me what you want, Richard.”

“I… I need to feel your skin. Feel all of you,” he pleads hoarsely, and so, you follow his lead, tugging your dress over your head, and, with a ravenous, seductive stare, slowly releasing yourself from your bra. Richard’s jaw actually goes slack as he takes in the sight of all of you, entirely bared for him, the word “wow” gently suspiring from the pillow of his lips.

You smile as you guide him on to his back, and, tucking your body into his side, propped on one elbow, your hand smooths over his chest as you kiss him deeply. You taste yourself on him, a sweet, heady musk lingering on his moustache; and then, your hand traverses his chest and soft stomach, inching closer to where you crave. His body shivers under your hand as your fingertips stroke him at a spot where he’s evidently a little ticklish. He half-giggles, but the sound transforms quickly into a stuttered moan as your reach his arousal, a single finger circling the head of him.

Your fingers have barely so much as grazed him there and his cock is twitching, his hips bucking in search of your hand and his shapely chin tilted up towards the sky.

“Fuck. Are you sensitive there, baby?” you purr, and, as your fingers curl gently around him again, he nods vigorously – desperately- his expression almost tortured and his arms pinned by his sides.

“Yes, Ma’am. It feels so good when you touch me. Please. Please don’t stop.”

He shivers again -in a whole new way- as your thumb swirls, gingerly, spreading the glistening pearl of precum around the head of him.

You believe the man – that you make him feel good. He expels a breathy, gasping moan, or a tortured half-chuckle every time you so much as brush him. His might even be the most sensitive cock you’ve had, you think, and you watch, enraptured, as his pleasure plays out over his face, his hands fisting into the sheets at his sides as his body writhes for you. Still, you want more. You are greedy for him. Want to feel him everywhere.

“Can I take you in my mouth, Richard?”

“Do you want to?” he asks, and you nod, slinking cat-like down the bed, until you are in position, your mouth settling over his cock.

“You look delicious,” you purr, and when he pleads with you, you dip your head, your tongue laving out to encircle him in a wet, writhing embrace. He’s moreish here too, and so, you sink your lips down around his straining mass. He’s big, and he stretches your capabilities. You can’t even take all of him right away, but you give it your best effort as he moans beneath you.

“Unngg. No-one has ever fit so much,” he praises in disbelief as you take him deeper, humming around him, your head bobbing languorously over his shaft. Richard bucks his hips up ever so gently into your mouth - very careful not to drive into you further than you can take him. His hands come to rest tenderly on your head too, and his fingers smooth so delicately over your hair - reverently even. He doesn’t make any move to grab you to push you down on him- even if you might like that, or he might like that, at a later stage. Right now, you are more than content with this rare, unparalleled gentleness. This delicate, tender joy.

With relish, you continue. He makes such pretty sounds when you have him under your tongue, and yet, for how sensitive he is you are certainly impressed with his stamina. After a particularly deep bob down on to him, you surge off his length, using your hand to rub your slick into him as you look up at him, finding you have him transfixed.

“Need you inside of me, Richard. Can I get on top of you?”

This ache between your legs is becoming untenable.

“Unngg. Want to be inside of you so badly, bonita. Are you ready for me?”

Indicating your readiness, you shift yourself to straddle his hips, your core practically dripping over him as you settle your arousal over his. You writhe him along your folds, coating him in your juices, before rising up on your knees. You have to rise a little higher than you’re used to, to reach the tip of him, and eagerly you settle the blunt pressure of his ruddy, gleaming head at your entrance. You can barely steady yourself in position as your thighs and core tremble for him, in mere anticipation of him filling you. You are grateful when Richard’s hands come to lightly grip the meat of your hips -steadying you, supporting you a little- thumbs caressing your soft spots.

You tug in a breath as you prepare to spear yourself on him, the air faltering in your lungs as you pause where you are, just for a moment, Richard looking up adoringly from under you.

“Soñé contigo por tanto tiempo,” Richard whispers, barely audible. I have dreamed of you for so long. You’re not sure whether it is his sincere, heartfelt words igniting this pleasure within you or the slow inch and drag of your wet heat down his thick, veined shaft. Likely both, but either way, you know you want more.

“Uhhh. Slow. Slow, bonita,” he groans, as you begin to sink all the way down on him, his steady hands guiding you, now cupping your ass, staccato breaths escaping his parted lips as you engulf him. You take him, slowly, gradually, feeling him inch by inch as his girth and his length stretch you open. As you take him to his base, all the way, the full weight of you settling on his hips, Richard’s eyes practically roll back into his head. “God, it feels so good inside you. Can you take me like this?”

Your teeth clamp down on your bottom lip and you nod, stilling as you adjust to his size. He’s a lot, but it’s a pleasant kind of pressure as he strains against your walls and all your sweet spots. “Can you… take a little bit more, hermosa?” Fuck, how does he have even more to give?

“Say stop if it’s too much,” Richard pleads. “Promise?” When you nod, Richard slowly plants his hands on your hips and pulls you down on to him, just a little, as he bucks his hips up, ever so gently. You cry out, your face contorting in disbelief and your head arcing to the sky as Richard fills you to your limit. Meanwhile, Richard is studying your face with gentle concern, feeling it out, checking you are comfortable, letting you slowly reconfigure your insides to the shape of his girth and length. He’d never hurt you. He’d simply never.

And, even though he has filled you all the way up, it feels so good.

Richard stills under you, until you are ready. His fingers trail tenderly over your thighs and belly and breasts. Over the mound of you. Your legs are shaking, folded and clamped down around his hips, and you’re not sure that your weakened limbs have the strength to allow you to rise on his length. But damn it, you will give it a valiant try.

“I need to move,” you beg, even though you are in the position of control, and Richard looks up at you with big pretty eyes, and God, he’s buried in you that you can feel him all the way in your guts. You gasp, whimper, as, gingerly, you rise up, feeling the fullness and drag of him against your walls as you start working and undulating against him, feeling out all the angles which feel best and…

Fuck there are no bad angles.

As you melt, become molten, Richard is your stiffness and he gives form to your boneless, bodiless flesh. You are full, all the way up. You are so full and it could feel urgent and dirty, having his cock deep in you like this, but it… doesn’t. It feels… Fuck. It just feels…. right. You can only describe it as a caress, as he comes to be held safely and tightly inside you, and you begin to move slowly, wanting -somehow- to imbue each drag of him over your walls with the care and affection you feel for him. The adoration you feel so deeply; as deeply as he’s buried in you. Deeper.

“Richard,” you plead, and you hinge forward at the hips, until your chest sinks down to his, your lips on to his lips, and as you undulate on his body you cling to him. Bury your face and your tongue and your hopes and your dreams in him, as though, if you plant them deep enough you can take root and call him home. As if you are a fruit and you need his ground to grow.

In turn, he holds you, arms wrapped around you, fingers caressing your back, moustache scraping against your cheek, your lips, your neck as speaks honey into your skin, nourishing you with sweet, wholesome praises. And, when he’s content that you can take him, when you’ve shown him how you can, Richard starts moving too, working in tandem with you as your bodies roll and heave together.

You show him not only that you can, but how much you enjoy taking him. There are sounds of pulverised fruit, leaking over him, his cock pushing your juices out of you, as though there is no room inside you for anything else but him. And, as your tightness surrounds him, his arms surrounding you in turn, he bestows you with simple yet jewelled praises, calling you all the beautiful names under the sun in both of his tongues.

It’s sweet, and it’s slow, and you both embody tenderness, all caressing fingers and lips and sugary, grateful noises. Clutching hands and arms, drawing the other closer, deeper into this tangle. As he stokes you, you can barely stand these sensations. You can barely comprehend something so pure and so perfect.

He glides into you now, your slick everywhere, your sex increasingly loud and obscene as his beautiful cock is suckered into your wet, liquid heat. As you quicken your pace, Richard’s mouth settles over your shoulder, teeth lightly gripping your flesh as he stifles a moan into your skin. Then, his breaths are billowing gusts fanning over you, and you can guess that he is trying to bring his approaching release under control.

By this stage, you are overwhelmed, your legs spent and tremoring, and you can barely rise and sink on his length anymore for shaking. You have become weak for him, practically liquid from this slow, torturous build. You need Richard to be your stiffness and your joints. You need to be a fluid thing beneath him, or else, you think, you will perish.

“Lie down for me, bonita?” Richard whispers sweetly, so attuned to you, and, seeing, as you flounder with need, your full weight almost limp on top of him, that a change of position is in order.

He draws out of you with a shudder and rolls you, carefully, his own body following and chasing yours. Richard’s weight settles pleasantly on top of you this time, and, as you fumble into position you spread your legs for him, wrapping your thighs and arms tightly around him. You hold him close to you, your hands cradling his head, fumbling through his grizzled curls, now mussed wild tendrils falling around his face. Then, ever so gently, dipping to kiss you sweetly with that assured tongue, Richard re-sheaths himself, sliding easily inside you now with a divine caress of skin. He feels overwhelmingly good. He feels like heaven reaching inside you to kiss your soul and you pray out loud, your moans greeting his kiss.

The angle and the pressure like this is something else, the press of Richard’s soft stomach and hips and the driving of his cock pushing you pleasantly down into the mattress, your body given a little bounce from the springs which helps you set a perfect rhythm together. You are moments away from unravelling, already, as Richard pistons in and out of you, over and over, a glorious pressure building as you are wrapped up safely in the warmth and scent and sound of your sweet, perfect man. You are lost in the feel of him, both of you clammy and breathy and sheening with sweat as you writhe and combine; and fuck, you want to unravel. You need to.

You want to unravel so you can bind yourself to him with more than this ephemeral tangle of limbs. You want to get lost in him, in a way that makes you feel found.

“I’m going to lose it for you, Richard. It feels too good. I... can’t take it. I… It’s too much. I’m… Harder. Deeper. Please.”

Richard is spurred on by your praises, his pace becoming quickened, his thrusts slightly harder. He sinks into you with vigour, though not with any need to dominate or take from you, you think. Simply as an expression of the overwhelming need to be closer. Deeper. More held by you. To hold you in return. It’s not close enough, even as you hold him tightly in your arms. You are so greedy for him that you don’t think you could ever get enough, even as it’s all too much.

You moan. You moan like a sob. Like a plea. Like a prayer. And he shushes you. Soothes you. He shushes you while he’s buried so deep in you -burying himself so deep in you- that you are fucked wide open. There’s something so pure and yet so wicked about the contradiction of his gentleness and this huge, undeniable force in your centre. You feel that he has crawled so deep up in you that he can never leave; and you want it that way.

“Can you take a little more, hermosa?

Fuck. No. Can you? But, yes. Please, yes. God yes.

“Yes. Please, Richard. Give me everything. I want all of you inside me. Need you.”

He thrusts his hips forward. He’s been holding out on you.

“Ohhhh, just like that,” you plead, voice ragged and your moans escalating, both your bodies slick with sweat now as you tangle together. “Right there. Don’t stop. Don’t stop, Richard! I need. Unnggg. Fuck. Need you deep inside me, just like that. Please don’t stop. Don’t stop!” You plead desperately with him -as if you even need to bargain- your teeth clamping down on your bottom lip and your hands reaching for him, tugging him closer to you as he drives his length into you over and over, pressing you harder into the mattress as you sucker him into your tightness.

His lips sink to the column of your neck, that moustache grazing you there, his own rich sounds of pleasure reverberating against your skin, his voice humming so close it sinks into your bones.

“N-never want to stop,” he gushes hoarsely into your skin. “Always want to be inside you- feel you wrapped around me, preciosa.”

His words are sincere. Earnest. And, with his words, and the repeated drag of his perfect cock, and his warmth enveloping you, you finally cry out, omitting a wracked, disbelieving moan as your pleasure pulses through you; toes curling, head thrown back, body jerking and spasming beneath him. This is an orgasm which keeps on giving, deep and strong; waves of bliss rolling through you whole body. A star bursting out from your centre. A flood. Quite literally a flood, intense and urgent and everywhere, and you look down at yourself. This is something else. Something more. A bigger heaven. You hear a new sound even, and you look down, realising that Richard’s cock has you squirting all over him, your release gushing and sloshing wet between your bodies as he continues to thrust into you, coaxing you through your peak and deepening your earth-shaking orgasm with every single movement.

“Ohhhh fuck... Richard-” you cry out, in what can only be described as awe, almost sobbing with ecstasy, your legs violently twitching and trembling as they wrap more tightly around him “-no-one’s ever made me do that before!”

Despite his gentleness, his control, this flood seems to overcome Richard too, and his thrusts become sloppy, as though he can barely stave off his release long enough to keep going, his body going near limp over you for a moment. You even swear he gets harder and bigger and deeper -if that was even possible- when he realises exactly what he made you do. When he realises that you soaked him. Flooded him. Your liquid and your juices shining on his stomach and coursing down his sturdy thighs.

You worry for a moment- you wonder whether he minds or if he likes it, as your release coats his skin and the tangle of sheets, but you needn’t worry for anything more than a moment. In response to your deluge, Richard looks at you as though you are a divine being, and, if you thought he seemed dishevelled with need earlier, this is something else. He’s undeniably into it. Indeed, as he takes in the sight of you below him, bared and writhing in ecstasy amidst a tangle of wet sheets, he stutters moans into the air, his thrusts become more determined, his cock pumping into you with refreshed vigour.

“N- never done that b-before?”

“No, Richard. Fuck. You made me-”

“-I’m going to make you do it again,” he purrs, and it is not a command at all. He never loses his characteristic gentleness. It is half a plea and half a promise, his sincere as ever. “Do it for me again, Bonita,” he coaxes, and he sounds thoroughly levelled by you. He sounds like he can’t get enough of you.

Fuck. You don’t know if you can...

“You can do it, baby. Please. Soak me again.”

You don’t think you can, until Richard is talking to you like that, with profuse, sugared pleas, and until he is hitting you exactly where you need, how you need, all over again.

You practically scream with it, weep with it, curse with it, sending a hoarse, high-pitched crescendo into the air, the keen punctuated by quickened, spent grunts Richard expels into the air with each deep, thick, purposeful thrust into you. You don’t think you’ve ever felt a more assured cock.

You don’t think you can, until-

When you gush over him a second time you are more prepared for it. Prepared enough to watch as you spill over him. Prepared enough to catch the positively awed, sunken expression which spreads over Richard’s face. To appreciate the sound of your release squirting over him and sloshing, wet in-between your bodies, liquid slapping against the roundness of his soft stomach as he thrusts into you faster; more urgently. This time -how can he help it- Richard comes undone with you; and, suddenly it seems everything is liquid, like a flood.

You can feel him fill you up, can feel his hot seed pulsing all the way from the base of him and coating your walls with thick ropes of cum as his hips stutter, burying his length into your heat as deep as he can go. He goes practically limp on top of you, hips collapsing into yours, and you feel him filling you -once again- to your limit, as the motion drives him just a little deeper, just a little closer. Meanwhile, you twitch and shudder and writhe and clench through your aftershocks with Richard still balls deep inside of you, barely able to comprehend the new heights of pleasure you have reached together. Awed, by the way your bodies are speaking like they’ve known each other for years too - despite that this is their first encounter.

There’s this wetness. This wetness everywhere; inside you, on you, under you, and for several moments you feel you too could be liquid, melting and pooling and coursing from the bed. Becoming vapour and evaporating from his hot, sweat-slickened skin. You might, if it wasn’t for Richard - his weight settled on top of you in a pleasing crush. His head settling in the crook of your neck, his length still inside you, his tongue laving to bury itself in your mouth too in a desperate, haphazard motion. He means to bury himself in all ways he can, you think, and you let him. You let him become your stone heart, as you are nothing but boneless, bodiless flesh; an oiled thing beneath him like pulverised, spent fruit - all your juices squeezed out.

You coil your limbs fluidly around him, and you engulf his sturdy form with your softness, holding him at the centre of you. Still buried -softening too- in your centre. Held in this intimate circle of your arms. Becoming the centre of your universe.

You bind yourself to him. You become his. His fruit.

Still panting, spent, hot, Richard rolls off you then, his stiffness gone and his body boneless now too, his stomach and his thighs sheening with a concoction of wetness. His smooth, hairless chest slick with sweat. He collapses beside you, but he immediately reaches for your hand and presses his body to your side. Immediately checks that you’re alright, as you truly become corporeal again, flitting down from heaven and into his arms; a conduit of heaven too, you think.

Now, what the… hold up a damn second. What did this sweet man just-

You gush. You gush for him in words now that the old relic of language and (almost) coherent thought has returned to you, your voice still breathy and discombobulated. “Richard. Richard? Richard! Fuck me. That was... I need you to know that was... Fuck. Phenomenal. I’ve never. In my life. I’ve never done that before. I’ve never... Oh my God. I can’t feel my face. Was that... good for you? Was it...? Fuck. Sweet man.”

Richard chuckles fondly at your near-incoherent babble of words, drawing you into his chest and cradling you like you are a precious thing – the most precious thing.

“It was perfect,” he whispers, satin soft, through a disbelieving breath, and his words make your heart flutter and your stomach tumble pleasantly. Richard’s soft sounds continue, as he whispers sweet names and gentle praises into your hair, kissing everywhere he can reach to punctuate his words, and smoothing his fingers in nonsense shapes over your skin. Hermosa. Bonita. Preciosa. “Everything was perfect. You’re so perfect. I’ve never... I’ve never had someone take care of me so well, princesa. Thank you.”

You can hear it - the flood of emotion in his voice, and, at his admission, his praises, the rush, tears pool in your eyes. It seems he has yet more water to drain from you as a patter of tears course over the bridge of your nose and settle in the hollow of his chest. However, it is not sadness, but joy, you realise. You are thoroughly overwhelmed by how held you feel. By how happy you feel. However, when your eyes brim over and you sniffle, Richard cranes his head down towards you, pulling you up from him so your eyes can meet his.

He looks momentarily devastated. “What’s wrong? Please tell me I didn’t hurt you.”

“No, sweet man. Not at all. It was perfect for me too,” you are quick to reassure, and, as you shuffle on to your stomach, propping yourself up to gaze into his eyes, Richard runs a solitary thumb across your cheek. You ache with the tenderness of his touch. “Just... I’ve never had anyone take care of me like that either,” you admit, and his eyes shine gently at you, misting over with pure, unadulterated adoration. “I’ve never felt so-”

Loved.

Loved, you realise you want to say, but that would be ridiculous, right? This is your first date.

Who said anything about love?

Still, you realise that is the truth of things. That is exactly how he made you feel. Richard was so tender with you, so present, so sensual, so connected. So… right. Had you made him feel this way too? Will he let you take care of him again?

You want to. You so desperately want to. Want to protect him, care for him, laugh with him. Rest your head on the soft pillow of his stomach as he holds you close to him.

He has taken care of you so well, and you don’t want him to stop.

Please. Don’t stop.

Still, as you silently contemplate all of this, Richard simply bundles you firmly into his chest. if you are unable to find the right words, at least he is able to find the gesture. And so, the need to clean up forgotten, the cloying wetness of your skin and the sheets seemingly not bothering him, you languish against him, safe and warm and held.

“Did it feel good?” he asks, after a few moments of comfortable silence. “When you… um…?”

“Squirted all over your cock? Hell yes.” You interject, able to find the words for that at least, filling in the blank for him and laughing gently against his skin. You weren’t able to turn the act into poetry, not yet, your words clumsy and crude, but you didn’t exactly need to. The whole act felt like poetry already. Poetry written on your bones. Etched into your heart.

When he flooded you.

“Maybe you can write about it,” he suggests, and you can hear the cheeky, playful smile dancing on his lips.

“Richard Alonso Muñoz,” you scold, teasingly, your fingers dancing equally playfully over his smooth chest. “Is that what you want me for? You want to be immortalised in poetry? I don’t think you’re as innocent as you let on, are you?”

“I’m not?” he chuckles warmly.

“You read erotic poetry and trashy romance novels… and you fuck like that.”

Make love, like that.

You still cannot move beyond crude words, but in your heart, he makes the words come easily.

“Truthfully, it’s... not always like that,” Richard admits. “It’s… only like that with you.”

Once again, his sincerity has you speechless, and it is all you can do to hold him close to you, as tightly as you can, your eyes squeezing closed and a soft smile tipping your lips. He holds you in return. Holds you in this perfect moment.

“It really did feel good though. It was… I can’t even describe it. My body feels likes a… fucking… limp, wet noodle.”

The laugh he emits at your words is music. “Wet noodle? Aren’t you supposed to be a poet, darling?” Oh, he’s teasing you now? This sweet man is teasing you?

You gasp, mock affronted, and jab him playfully in the stomach with your finger, in the spots you remember he is ticklish. “Rude!” you exclaim, and he jiggles joyously against you. When the laugh dissipates, leaving only smiling, appled cheeks, silence once again enfolds you like a warm, comfortable blanket.

“I was thinking,” he begins softly, after a few moments of laying together. “We could go to the farmer’s market tomorrow. The one with the cider donuts. We could take Lady.”

You can’t answer right away, can’t find the words, and it is all you can do to tug in a slow breath. Your hesitation evidently has Richard worrying again, and he rushes to fill in the blank space with his own insecurities. “I’m sorry,” he says, voice brittle. “I assumed... because I want to, but... but maybe you’re not thinking that you want to see me again...”

You pull back. Urgently moving so that you are face-to-face with him on the pillow, his body following yours on to his side too, like a magnet. You cup his face again, with your tender, open hand. You look him in the eyes. Those sweet, expressive, cola-coloured eyes. Your heart is shining for him, and it feels rubbed until it gleams.

You examine his tentatively hopeful expression. You get the sense that this man falls hard. Falls quickly. He’s in love with love, after all. You, on the other hand, love slow. And so, even as it breaks your heart that you can’t yet say the words aloud, you deflect. “You want to know what I’m thinking, Richard?” He nods. “I’m still thinking about how you turned me into a wet noodle. You should be the smuggest Adonis this side of Midtown - how on earth are you playing that one so cool?”

Richard’s face pinches a little, his gaze dropping from yours, lashes fluttering.

“It was perfect,” he agrees, in a small voice. “But, I guess, I’m not as… surprised as you are.” You shake your head slightly, in mild confusion. Wanting him to elaborate. “I always imagined you would be perfect.” He blinks shyly, and attempts a masking smile. “I don’t know if you thought the same way about me.”

A terrible lump swells in your throat. Your chest tightens.

It’s time to speak. To make your words a little more like poetry.

But it’s scary. It’s hard. You know that now.

“That’s not quite it, sweet man,” you begin. Realisation sinking heavily through you, drawing your brow down with it. Richard searches your face, encouraging you to go on, expression open; pretty eyes big. And, although the words are hard to say, they are easier. The words are easier around him. “Honestly, Richard? I think, you’ve always been perfect. I just didn’t want to realise it. I didn’t want to notice you,” you confess, your voice cracking with emotion.

“Why?” Richard encourages, a knot in his brow now too as he smooths his thumb earnestly over your cheek, breath bated. His touch is like the path of a match against its counterpart box; it is a little thing, which threatens to ignite something far larger.

“I…” you sigh out some of your tension and nerves with a billowing exhale. “I suppose… because I knew. That as soon as I saw you, there would be no going back. I must have known deep-down, that if I saw you, that I… I could love you so quickly.”

Richard swallows. “Is that… not something you want? Love?”

“It didn’t used to be. I… didn’t used to believe I deserved it,” you reveal, tears balling in your eyes as all of your deepest fears and secrets loosen and rattle inside your chest, gradually being shed and needing to find their exit.

“And now, preciosa?” Richard asks, gingerly smoothing a hand over the crown of your head, dipping a moustached kiss to the centre of your forehead. “What do you believe?”

Now? Now, it is different, and a cautious smile slowly claims your lips - even as your cheeks are wet by tears.

“I’m thinking, Richard Alonso Muñoz, that… That nothing would give me greater pleasure than accompanying you to the farmer’s market.”

Your words sound flippant, perhaps insignificant, but you can tell, from the way Richard’s eyes pool with a subtle, brewing joy, that your true meaning is abundantly clear to him. So, in mutual celebration your lips press together in a crush, smile lines radiating across his face. When he pulls back though, a gentle, playful heat seemingly overtakes him. “Are you sure about that, bonita?” he asks in a fond, teasing tone. As his chest shakes in a rich, gleeful chuckle, you perfectly catch his meaning too.

“Okay, okay,” you concede, with a giggle, as he slants his hips forward, pressing his already hardening length against your thigh. “Maybe there is one thing that could give me more pleasure.” You tick-up a suggestive eyebrow. “Want to remind me?”

“Please,” he purrs, just as broken with need as before. “My beautiful, wet little noodle.”

At his ridiculous new pet name -which you only have yourself to blame for, honestly- you squeal brightly, expelling musical peals of laughter into his open-mouth as he surges to kiss you, the act imbued with deep affection. He kisses you until the laughter pleasantly dissipates, your bodies suffusing with a resurgent heat, as you tangle together all over again.

As Richard holds you, every so tenderly, you are overcome. Your loneliness? It has never felt so far away. You hadn’t realised how much you needed somebody to love. You hadn’t realised that someone was him. You hadn’t wanted to admit it. But, oh, you are realising it now. And, you are never going to forget it.

“Kiss me again,” you plead into the air.

“Where?”

“Everywhere.”

Everywhere.

Everywhere.

“Yes, Ma’am,” he responds, affirmatively, and with relish, you feel his moustache graze the column of your neck. Somehow, you don’t think you’ll ever tire of that feeling.

As his lips crush to your again, you note how he tastes. A combination of your sweet, nectar-like juices, and the subtle tang of sweat he has kissed from your sex-flushed skin. He tastes like a salted peach. He is pure poetry, you think. You’ve never tasted anything quite as sweet, and you’ve never experienced such a flood. And, now that your deluge of joy is through -your happiness instead streaming steadily- it no longer feels heavy. It no longer weighs you down.

You want to love him, and be loved; and, you will.

What’s more. You deserve every bit of it.

It’s the little things. One by one. And then, suddenly, there it is. There’s everything; in your arms.

[whumperooni]

Hii!! If you're up for it, could you write something about Katsuki-nii? I just wanna be his wittle wife, stealing his clothes, being bred full of his cum, constantly hanging of his arm and talking about how much I love him. People might think we're too close for siblings, but they know better than to say anything, just like i know better than to be anything but Katsuki-nii's good little sister-wife.👉👈💕

Despite being one of my favorite characters, I haven’t written Katsuki before so please be gentle! o( _ _ )o

tags/warnings: tw incest, a smidge of jealousy and possessiveness and insecurity, aged up characters 

You hear the whispers. You always do.

“She’s here again?”

“What kind of adult woman still makes lunch for her older brother?”

“Isn’t it kind of weird? I mean...why is she always over him like that? And the way she dresses...it’s like...”

“Don’t they live with each other? That’s a bit strange, right?”

They whisper. They whisper, but they never really give voice to the uncomfortable thoughts and suspicions clouding their minds and filling their drum, dull days with the scandals they crave.

They whisper and you? You don’t listen.

You don’t need to listen- they don’t matter, their opinions don’t matter, the stares and gossip and mindless speculation don’t matter.

The only person who matters is Katsuki and, to a lesser degree, yourself.

Why should you care about others when your shining light- your sun, your heart, your darling big brother- is there to eclipse them with all his love and adoration?

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

“Don’t you think they’re a little too close?”

More whispers, more gossip, more nosy busybodies trying to forget their own troubles by trying to bury themselves in you and your brother’s life.

It’s sad, really.

You ignore the raised brows and mouths hidden by hands and snuggle a little closer to your nii-san. He rolls his eyes, huffs, but his arm wraps around your waist a bit more firmly and his hand squeezes your waist, his fingers dig into your hip with a little flex.

“Nii-san, should I make curry or yakisoba tonight?”

“Mabo Dofu.”

You hum and you nod, mentally tack on the chore of going to the grocery store after you’re done here. You need to pick up his dry cleaning, too, and you need to remember to press Katsuki’s suit for his meeting with the hero commission in the morning.

Oh, and you need to lay out your dress for the dinner with the Todoroki’s tomorrow night.

Ah, tomorrow is going to be busy.

“Oh my gosh is that Dynamight?!”

Fingers dig into your hip again and you know that your big brother is irritated without having to look. He’s tired today- annoyed- and you know that the squealing call of a fangirl is not exactly what he wants to hear.

Poor nii-san- it must be tough having to deal with so much attention sometimes.

(Though, he does deserve the attention- he’s such a good hero; strong and handsome and eye catching without even having to try.

He’s perfect.)

“Dynamight! Dynamight! Will you sign my planner?!”

Two girls pop up right in front of- eyes sparkling and wonder on their faces, their proximity much too close. They don’t seem to notice you at first, but that’s okay- nii-san is the one who deserves the attention after all.

“Oh my gosh, I just love you so much! You’re so- oh.”

Ah, and now there’s disappointment on both their faces- expressions falling and pouts pushing rouged lips out, something almost irritated crossing over them.

Again, that’s okay- you’re used to it.

One of them- clearly the bolder of the two- eyes you without restraint. Her head cocks and her arms fold across her chest, her brows furrow.

“Is this- I didn’t know you had a girlfriend.”

Girlfriend? Oh, that’s cute.

You’re much more than a girlfriend.

Before your big brother’s temper can snap, you fix a sweet smile on your face- head resting on Katsuki’s shoulder and a giggle slipping from you.

“Oh, no- I’m his sister!”

“Sister...?” the other one asks, brows knitting together to match her friend’s.

Her eyes dart to the strong arm keeping you firmly against your big brother and you let your smile grow when she looks back up at you, give her a nod.

“Yep! Dynamight’s one and only little sister,” you chirp.

Katsuki snorts and you have to stifle a giggle when the girls exchange a look between them. Before they can say anything else, you nudge your big brother- smile softening when you feel him pull you just a little bit closer.

“Katsuki, sign her planner!” you urge him. You smile at the girl who hadn’t asked for any autographs and she seems to startle a little, flush whenever you prompt her with, “Do you have anything you want signed?”

She hesitates before giving a small nod and you watch as she starts digging around in her purse, detach yourself gently from your brother so he can carry out his duty to his fans.

He does so, with some grumbles and huffs, and the girls are aware enough not to push for a photo- scurry away with eyes lit up once again and excited squeals leaving them. You watch them with a smile and then reward your brother with a kiss to his cheek.

That gets him relaxing, just slightly, but you make a mental note of being extra attentive to him once he gets home from work.

“Nii-san,” you murmur, “I’m going to head off, okay? I need to pick up groceries.”

“Fine,” he grunts. “Just make sure to get some sansho.”

“I know, nii-san,” you huff, fondly. Another press of your lips to his cheek and then you squeeze his hand, smile at him with all the warm love you have. “I love you.”

“...love you.”

It’s rough, quiet, but it still has you beaming all the same.

You flounce off to run your errands- mind swirling with all the ways you can make your big brother happy.

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

It’s not too big of a surprise whenever you run into Sero at the store- he works in the same city as your big brother and you do run into him every once in a while.

What is a surprise is the way he rubs his neck sheepishly in the middle of chatting, when he smiles at you with a spark of hope in his eyes and a nervousness you’re not quite used to from him.

“Hey, I was wondering- are you free on Saturday? I thought maybe we could grab dinner or something...”

Your head tilts and you blink at him- surprised by the question.

Is he asking you out on a date?

“Oh, I’m sorry, Sero- on Saturday Katsuki and I are going to the movies. And we have a lunch with Kirishima planned.”

For a moment, Sero looks a little dejected. But then he’s smiling again and nodding.

“Oh, yeah, I get that. What about Sunday?” he asks- persistent but not quite pushy.

You smile at him and it’s guilty, a little apologetic.

Sero is nice. Friendly. You’re sure he’d make for a great date.

Maybe in another life...

No, in another life you’d still find your way back to Katsuki.

You shake your head, fingers flexing on your shopping cart and your expression softens even when his own smile wanes.

“Sunday we’re having lunch with the family. And Katsuki promised he’d take me shopping...”

“Ah...”

It’s quiet for a moment, awkward. Sero scratches his cheek and he forces his lips back up, rubs the back of his neck again in a way that seems a little...frustrated.

“You, uh, you spend a lot of time with your brother,” he says, words coming out in a near mumble. “Don’t you ever have time to yourself? Time for a boyfriend or anything?”

A boyfriend?

You almost huff, but you just smile instead- big and sweet as you shake your head with a soft laugh.

“Why would I need a boyfriend when I have my nii-chan?”

And, with that, Sero’s face falls completely- features distorting with something that you can’t quite name, something that almost almost has you feeling ashamed.

“Right...”

More awkwardness after that. Sero makes his excuses to leave and he detracts himself- a frown on his face as he leaves you all alone with your shopping cart and a faint, quiet sadness that you quickly push away.

You shake your head and clear your thoughts, look down at your shopping list.

Right, you still need to get the sansho. And you should pick up some beer for Katsuki, too.

With a hum, you continue your shopping- the exchange forgotten for thoughts of domesticity and all the plans you have with your big brother instead.

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

“Fuck.”

Your lips quirk into a smile at Katsuki’s groan and you wander over to him with a beer in hand, press a doting kiss to his cheek before sliding into his lap.

“Long day?” you ask in a murmur, hands running over his chest.

You get a grunt in response- Katsuki’s head lolling back with another groan whenever your hands begin to knead at his shoulders, soothe tight knots.

“Fuckin’ reporters got the jump on me,” he huffs. “And goddamn Deku wouldn’t stop talkin’ to ‘em.”

You make a sympathetic little noise and run a hand up until you can stroke your fingers through the hair at the base of his skull. Something close to a sigh leaves him when you begin to massage there and you feel your heart melting a little as you watch the tension so very slowly begin to bleed from him.

“I’m sorry, nii-san,” you tell him- sincere, voice soft. “That sounds like a pain.”

Another grunt and you hum, drape your arms over your big brother’s shoulders and press a gentle kiss to his lips.

“You need to relax, nii-san,” you mumble, pressing closer when his hands grip your waist. “I wanna help...”

“Then help.”

It comes out as a growl and you shiver from it, rock yourself against your big brother and slot your lips against his.

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

“Is that what you’re wearing?”

You blink and look over your shoulder at your big brother, look down at your dress.

It’s simple- form fitting, yes, but not overly tight. A pretty dress with pretty flaring pleats and a cute sweetheart neckline, heels and stockings to match. You’re wearing one of the necklaces Katsuki has bought you- a copper choker with an o-ring in the middle, tiny and shining rubies dotting along the copper band.

It’s one of your favorites- something he had bought you when he first started the agency. The dress is new, but it’s a favorite, too.

“You don’t like it?” you ask him, frowning just a tiny bit.

Katsuki huffs and he walks over to you, wraps his arms around your waist and rests his chin on top of your head with a scowl.

“I like it,” he grumbles. “I’m sure Icyhot will like it too.”

Ah, now you see what the problem is.

A sigh leaves you and you gently place your hands over his, look him over in the mirror.

Slacks, a button up that’s not quite buttoned up. Simple and not his style, but something that makes him look so very handsome. You love it when he’s dressed up a little and you know that he likes it when you dress up, too.

“Nii-san,” you murmur. “I don’t care if Shoto likes it or not- I only care if you do.”

It’s true- it really is.

The words have Katsuki’s scowl softening, just a little, and you turn your head so you can press a kiss to his jawline, hum whenever he tilts his head back so you can lay another on his neck.

“I don’t like the way he looks at you,” he huffs- still so grumpy, his arms tightening around you. “Don’t like the way fuckin’ Natsuo looks at you either.”

“Katsuki...”

You turn around before he can grumble any more and you cup his face, kiss him and try to show him just how much you care for him and no one else.

“Nii-san,” you tell him, soft and adoring and sincere as can be, “it doesn’t matter if they look at me. I don’t care. I love you. You’re all that matters to me.”

Katsuki’s expression flickers with something fond, with something near vulnerable. It’s gone in a second, though, and then you’re backed against the wall, your brother’s lips are meeting yours.

“You’re mine,” he breathes against you, fingers digging into your hips and your dress bunching up underneath them. “Mine.”

His lips find your neck and you’re left mewling, clinging to him and rocking against a thick thigh whenever he slips it between yours.

“Yours,” you gasp out- Katsuki’s teeth nipping at you, his hands dragging you up and down his leg. “I’m- oh- I’m all yours!”

Katsuki grunts and then one of his hands are gone, then there’s the sound of a zipper being pulled down. He lifts you and you moan at the display of strength, wrap your legs around him when his cock ruts against you. It takes just a quick second for him to push your panties to the side and you shudder when you feel him pressing against your entrance, cling to him and claw your nails into his back.

“So fucking wet.”

You are- you really are. How can you not be when you’re held up like this- your big brother lifting you like you weigh nothing, vermilion gaze burning as he takes in how quick your cheeks flushed and how fast your face falls needy and hazy? How can you not be when he looks at you as if you’re everything- a beautiful bounty, a delicious treat, a darling little sister, a perfect wife?

“Please, nii-san,” you mewl, beg. “Please- I need you!”

A growl and then your big brother is sliding into you- stretching you open with his big cock and making you moan, whine his name.

“Gonna fuckin’- shit- gonna fuckin’ fill you up,” he grunts- no time wasted as he starts to thrust, sends your head spinning as he fucks you against the wall. “Fill up my girl’s cunt.”

It’s a promise as strong and sure as anything. You whimper, nod, and press a needy, clumsy kiss to his lips, clench around his cock at the thought.

“Gonna rip off these panties,” he growls- near snarls. “Fuckin’ drip my cum all over the Todoroki’s house- show them who you belong to!”

Oh, fuck.

The thought of that has you keening and you nod along to the words, gasp and hold onto him desperately as heat sears through you- as overwhelming pleasure has you choking up, almost sobbing.

“Yes! Nii-san, please! I’m- please- show them-”

Katsuki moans and it’s hot against your neck, broken up by an open mouthed kiss and his lips sucking a deep bruise over your flesh. You start to come- lashes fluttering and a sob slipping past your lips- and his teeth dig in deeper to your throat, the snapping of his hips gets faster, harder.

“Good- fuck- good girl. My good girl- comin’ on nii-san’s cock like a good lil slut- you’re so fuckin’- shit- say you’re- say you’re-”

“I’m yours, nii-san! Yours! Yours! I love you!”

A growl, a groan, a slam of his hips and then Katsuki is coming coming coming- filling you up to the brim and over it. You’re pushed over the edge and then you’re coming with him- mewling and clawing at him, pressing desperate and frantic kisses to him.

You only stop when his hips slow down, when he’s finished humping his seed into you. You’re both left panting then- his forehead pressed against yours and his cock softening inside of you, his eyes muddied and soft as they look over your dreamy, fucked out expression.

He slips out of you and he sets you on your feet- big hands landing on your waist to keep you steady and his lips finding yours in a slow, gentle kiss. Katsuki straightens your dress for you and he swipes smeared mascara out from under your eyes, presses a kiss to your forehead and has you sighing, letting out a soft and sweet noise of contentment.

“Mmm, I love you, nii-san...I love you so much...”

Katsuki huffs and he kisses you again- hand cupping your face, thumb smoothing over your cheek and you’re graced with a mumble in return- a quiet little “I love you too.”

➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺➺

Twenty minutes later you’re sitting in the Todoroki’s living room- your big brother’s arm thrown over your shoulder, your panties stuffed in his pocket, his cum drying on your thighs and the last of his seed slowly oozing out of your cunt as you sit there and smile, lean against Katsuki.

You love your brother, you do.

You’ll always love your brother. You’ll always be his.