#i love that top barely raised his voice

[forcebookish]

the way that top didn't tell mew he loves him when mew was screaming at him because he knew mew wouldn't believe him even while he was thinking the whole time about how deeply he had hurt the person he loves the most

[lovegasmic]

I need horny ass baby daddies who want another babyyyyyyyy AHHHH 😭😭😭😭😭

 𝜗𝜚 BABY, BABY DADDY !

──── . ꒰ satoru , toji , real form sukuna x f!reader ꒱ 

꒰ nsfw : lactation kink w satoru◞ this is nasty but very loving fyi◞ obvious creampie◞ breeding kink ꒱ taglist

 ✶  SATORU

baby daddy Satoru pops a boner when he sees a tit out. a whole ass freak, in your opinion.

“i’m feeding your son!” your words are a grumble that hold no annoyance, you’re rather, amused.

only receiving a smirk and a hand raised like an obedient child asking for permission to talk, “i go next” your husband is not one to joke around.

the baby is in the crib and the monitor on the nightstand, rattling slightly by the movement of the bed scarping against it, “fuck, baby, you get hotter each fuckin’ day” his words are barely audible from how his lips are attached to a tender nipple, more like a sloppy mumbling along suckling and nibbling, not to mention the growing groans rolling out of Satoru’s lips with every little drop of sweet milk landing on his eager pinky tongue.

“mmphm, tastes... so good...” slurps and licks are heard, mixed with wet, creamy slaps of your gushing cunt around the fat girth of his cock, unsure of who’s more excited, Satoru or you?

the prospect of breeding you is more than enough for the blue eyed to go insane, fuck to breed is what he believes, every load of cum should be shot into your womb, is his motto.

hips so mean and rough, a bit out of place with how soft fingertips massage into the plump flesh of your tits, and to be honest, it’s a bit too sexy how he needs no support on your hips to have you pinned and taking cock like a champ

“gonna put another baby in you” it’s a promise, and Satoru has always been a man of his word, speeding up the pace and you wonder how much stamina he has left in that sweaty, muscular —and covered in nail scratches— body of his.

it’s so lewd how the bed creaks and your pussy flutters, sucking in every inch, every delicious drop of cum splattered into your needy walls. a thick jet of sperm gushing straight into your fertile womb.

 ✶  TOJI

a low-key cocky Toji, won’t admit how much he wants to fuck another baby into you, and instead, puts the blame on you.

“just admit you want another one” voice thick, low and slightly breathless with how hard his cock slams into you from below, with heavy breeding balls continuously slapping your spread and gushy pussy lips. if he does not want another baby, why is he fucking you within an inch of your life?

you babble, a bit stupid already and grateful that little Megumi is out playing with his friends, “u-ungh... wa-nna... haah..." how he adored to fuck your brains out.

cock twitching and adding another layer of lubrication with that wave of precum, arms tightly wrapped around your waist and keeping your squirming body against his chest with soft tits jiggling right above his biceps.

“oh, yes you do, doll, you want to get pregnant so bad” he did too, want to impregnate your womb again, “you need my cum so deep into this soaked pussy of yours, she needs it”

a bubbling, choked squeak escapes your lips, unable to stop the wild flutter and slick gushing out of your overly stretched hole, causing it to suck onto Toji’s veiny cock abusing your insides.

it was a little surprising how easily Toji turned you into a mess of tears and sex fluids, easing the just newly discovered ache inside your cunt, the need to get fuckin’ bred.

and that’s what he does, cumming almost as if on cue, filling your burning walls with that thick and pearly white cum that oozes out of your filled pussy.

 ✶  SUKUNA

Sukuna loves you, truly, but that does not necessarily mean he’s letting you top.

there’s just something primal, something like a need clawing inside his chest, the urge to have you pinned to his mercy, reduced to a beautiful mess as your eager pussy takes cock down the hilt, up down, up down, turned into something similar to a sex doll, and you love it, or else you wouldn’t be sobbing and dripping onto the floor with a mix of Sukuna’s previous loads pumped into your cunt, too thick and large to be completely inside.

“tsk, it’s dripping, I need to fuck another into you” ah, a poor excuse to slap your clitoris with the head of his cock, collect his cum oozing out of your hole and plunge it back in, with two hands holding your arms back, and the two left on your hips to move you to his liking, “by the time i’m done with you, you won’t remember your name”

a promise or a threat?

the first option, already having you babbling his name as another intense orgasm washes over you.

a heir, a heir, a heir, that was what Sukuna used to ramble your ears off, now his excuse is how he needs to have a large household, with little brats that look like the both of you.

Sukuna was not even that desperate to have a baby at first, he was not even interested to be honest, but after your first, watching your cute body turn even softer and how much the little baby looked like you, it almost became a ritual for the man to fuck at least five loads into your cunt, with semen as potent as his, you knew you were pregnant as soon as the first one got in, but... there is no way in hell Sukuna is letting you go without having you full.

[infictionalwonderland]

The BAU team meeting Hotch’s younger gf who looks like she walked off the front cover of a magazine & she’s so bubbly and has a really comforting energy! How would they react????

The satisfying little clicks of heels against the marble floor wasn’t enough to gain any of their attention usually, but accompanied by the delicately enchanting chimes of true laughter and sweet smell of baked goods—eyes were immediately lifting to investigate to the scene.

“Thank you so much!” An incredibly sweet, honeyed voice gushed genuinely, “here, all of these are meant for my boyfriend but I’m sure he won’t even notice.”

The team traded immensely interested looks as they surveyed the scene, Anderson (who was uncharacteristically blushing a bright flustered cherry red) was being handed a chocolate chip muffin by—wow—a startlingly gorgeous young women who was dressed in inviting soft colours and had a large sweet smile on her face that served to emphasise her lovely appearance.

“My day just got a hundred times better.” Derek grinned, swivelling his chair sideways to speak to the rest of his team while barely taking his eyes off you.

“You’re telling me.” Emily’s mouth hung open a little as she leaned forwards on her elbows to look at you more closely.

“Behave.” JJ scolded before her brief look of reprimand melted under Emily’s pointed stare, “she’s looks so sweet I just wanna eat her.”

“She has a boyfriend.” Spencer reminded them.

“What—?”

“Pretty boy—you and—“

“Oh—oh, no!” Spencer flustered, sputtering out the gulp of his coffee he had in his mouth (JJ handed him a napkin with a mothers readiness). “Not—I would be absolutely honoured—and—and, for lack of a sensical phrase, over the moon, to have a romantic relationship with a woman such as her but—no, unfortunately. She—she said a few moments ago that has a boyfriend.”

“Ah.” Emily blinked, a slow almost sheepish smirk on his lips, “I wasn’t really listening to what she was saying, just watching her lips move.”

“Preach sister.” Derek leaned forward for a fist-bump which Emily easily gave, both of them nodding in solidarity.

“Hello!” They all startled heavily as your gentle, happy voice chimed now much closer to them and mouths dropped subtly at just how beautiful you looked up close.

“Well hello sweetheart.”

“H-hi.”

“Hi gorgeous.”

“Hello!”

You blinked at them, an adorable giggle leaving you at the onslaught of greetings that came all at once. “Hi! You wouldn’t happen to know where Aaron Hotchner’s office is would you?”

“Hotch?” Emily furrowed her brows at you curiously and then seemed to forgot about, well, any of anything she was thinking as your bubbly smile and sparkling eyes turned her way and you gave a cheerful ‘yep!’ “Um—just, up those stairs, the first door at the top.”

“Thank you very much.” You told her, voice as sweet as the packet of fizzy haribos hidden in her desk. “It was lovely meeting you all, we’ll probably be better acquainted later on.”

With a sparkly mischievous twinkle in your bright eyes and another adorable giggle, you took off in a small spin that sent the enchanting mix of your perfume and the baked goods wafting over to all of them and they all watched, entranced, as you climbed the steps to their boss’ office.

After several seconds of dazed silence, Spencer gasped.

“Boyfriend—“

“Yeah I wouldn’t mind being her boyfriend either.” Derek murmured. “At all—really, no sweat off my back.”

“Hotch.”

JJ’s mouth dropped open as she realised where Spencer was going with his train of thought, rolling back in her chair as they pointed at him in realisation.

“Oh my God!”

“Hotch—hotch, is her boyfriend..?” Spencer sounded extremely confused, mouth falling open and closing repeatedly.

“Huh?”

“Reid, you are having a giggle.”

“No, he’s right.” JJ confirmed, mouth open and eyebrows raised. “She said she was here to see her boyfriend and she’s gone to see Hotch. . 2 plus 2 equals. .”

“. . An incredibly brokenhearted Derek Morgan.” Derek’s own mouth dropped open, craning his neck to see what was going on in the office of his boss before realising that Hotch had shut the blinds. Derek gasped, that sneak.

“And a flummoxed Emily Prentiss.”

“But she’s so—“

“Yeah.”

“And he’s like—“

“Literally!”

“Well, the last few months Hotch has been incredibly more relaxed, in fact his percentage of smiles given has gone up from a measly 30% to almost 84%, his laugh quota has reached high yet levels than I’ve ever known it to be. I had also noted that every Thursday he never goes home as late as he usually retires for the day and with this new revelation of a relationship—I assume this correlates to their date nights.”

“It does.”

Everyone turned in their chairs quickly to face their boss who now stood outside his office a faintly amused smile curving up his lips, at his side was you and you were wearing an amused and loving smile, eyes practically sparkling after Spencer’s speech on your boyfriend’s behaviour as they flickered up to said boyfriend beside you who looked down at you with soft, fond eyes.

“So you figured out my secret.” You grinned at them all, taking in Spencer’s red cheeks and Emily’s flabbergasted, dazed stare. “I’m Y/N, Aaron’s girlfriend!”

“Doesn’t that just crush a man’s hopes and dreams.” Derek pouted quietly to himself, straightening up in alarm when his boss’ intense eyes zeroed in on him.

“Honey, this is JJ—“ The blonde gave a warm, welcoming smile and a wave, “Spencer,” said genius gave a tight lipped awkward smile, hands flailing awkwardly and cheeks a burning fiery red, feeling this pulse thump when they smiled back directly at him, “Emily and Derek.” Both of the aforementioned gave waves with half flirty-ish smirks and half genuine smiles.

The door to Rossi’s office opened and when he stepped out and saw you beside Aaron he smiled happily, walking towards you both.

“Ah, Y/N!” He took you into an embrace, kissing both of your cheeks. “You get more beautiful every time I see you, is this big brute treating you right?”

“Always, Dave.”

He patted you on the shoulders, smiling, before turning to Aaron who was rolling his eyes at him fondly.

“Let’s keep it that way.”

“Rossi!” Emily’s astounded voice exclaimed, “you—know Y/N—you knew about this—“

It was Dave’s turn to roll his eyes as he continued walking to descend down the stairs, tutting at her disappointedly.

“You thought I wouldn’t?” He countered, “who do you think encouraged him to go for it?”

You laughed at that and your boyfriend smiled down at you fondly, looping an arm around your waist—seemingly forgetting he was in his place of work and needed to keep up the facade of stone cold, emotionless boss.

“What—Rossi—get back here—“ Derek leaped up from his seat and trailed after the older man.

“What, you gonna come watch me take a leak?”

“If it means we get some answers!”

“Shoo parassita.”

All you could do was laugh again, smiling up at your boyfriend as his arm tightened around your waist and he pulled you closer into his side. You were very happy with your decision to come and deliver baked goods to him.

[ervotica]

please don’t go, i love you so

pairing: young!coriolanus snow x reader

warnings: a lil toxic!coriolanus, he’s rough with r, possessive talk, quite tame in this but imma tamp it up soon, a bit of making out and being lovey

note: i do not careee about who likes this character or who doesn’t okay i am writing about him because he is literally one of the hottest men i’ve ever seen, kay? i’m not here for moral dilemmas thank u, enjoy (yes i will follow up w smut and my young!coriolanus snow reqs are OPEN!) please please remember to comment and rb, it helps me so much!

hunger games masterlist

Coriolanus is possessive.

It sickens him to his very core, sends nausea rolling like a wave through his chest; he’s not a child. Yet, the mere sight - thought - of you engaging with any other man, even innocently, is enough to have him seeing red: white-knuckled, muscles drawn taut like a bowstring, ready to eliminate any and all threat standing between him and his girl.

It's the way those boys look at you. As if you're a piece of meat, a toy to play with that they're just begging, aching to sink their teeth into, to leave a permanent mark on. The boys in this district are barbaric- that's what Coryo thinks anyway. It's disgusting, the things that he knows they think about you.

It's been a long day in District Twelve. Coriolanus' grey jumpsuit rubs and itches and his skin crawls with an uneasiness settled at the pit of his stomach. It's a warm day, his skin sticky as he peels the top half of the jumpsuit from his slender arms and ties it neatly around his waist. The grass by the lake is damp with the leftover dew from the morning.

He catches sight of you amongst the trees, weaving and bobbing through the undergrowth as you do, your lithe fingers brushing against leaves. Your head dips and then raises as his tall figure creeps into your peripheral vision. A smile graces your features, real and earnest with all your teeth.

There’s a slight waver in your countenance when you catch Coriolanus’ own expression; his brows are knit, pushing his forehead into a crease, lips pushed together tersely.

You walk straight into his arms, balancing yourself on one leg and pushing your shoulder underneath his armpit. You needle your way in, your forehead rested against his chin, so close you can feel his breath against your face.

“Hi, gorgeous,” you murmur. You reach up to push out the ridge in his brow and your thumb traces the bridge of his nose in a way that couldn’t be perceived as anything other than unbridled affection. “Something wrong?”

His slender fingers settle against your waist. You shiver at the contact when he spins and pushes you back into a tree. The bark digs into your back as you shuffle to meet his eyes— his eyes that have suddenly clouded with something dark and possessive.

“What is it?” you ask again; your voice is becoming more strained the longer he stays quiet, your own hands snaking up his arms like vines and squeezing.

He shakes his head and drops his face to look at you properly.

“Nothing. I have you.”

“Okay.” You click your tongue, tilting your head at him. His face gravitates towards yours, breath hot and mixing with your own. “You gonna kiss me or what, handsome?”

He doesn’t need any encouragement, surging forward to catch your lips between his own; his hands are rough, kneading the soft flesh of your hip. His other makes its way up to your jaw, fingertips pressing so hard you’re sure he’s branding you. You’ve never been kissed like this, with such fervour and passion and need. You gasp into his mouth and your arm wraps around his neck to pull him further into you.

“Coryo,” you pant.

“Shh,” he forces out, his fingers suddenly an iron grip around your neck; the hollow of your throat is bared to him and bobs under his cruel touch.

“Coriolanus, that hurts,” you say, strangled. His eyes are alight with a fire, a blazing inferno roaring in his head as he squeezes your throat and laughs.

You wheeze, clutching at his wrist in an attempt to loosen his grip. He obliges you, running a thumb over the indents he’s left in your soft skin to smooth them away.

“You know I’d never hurt you, right?” he asks. His head drops to the juncture of your neck, arms hooking loosely around your middle as he relaxes into you. “I just wanted to feel you. To know you’re mine.”

The incident is forgotten as soon as it ends. He has a charm in that sort of way; you don’t see his faults even when he shows them to you clear as day. You’ll never see what’s right in front of you even if he wants you to.

“Of course I’m yours, Coryo. Why wouldn’t I be?”

“The way they all look at you here…” He falters. “Like they all want you. Like they want to take you away from me. You’re mine- they have to understand that.”

“No one could take me away from you,” you giggle, your temple resting against the tip of his shoulder so you can duck your head to meet his eyes. “I know where I belong. And that’s right here with you.”

“Good.” He mouths at your neck like a man starved, arms coming right up until they’re hooked just underneath your own. He pulls away heaving for breath.

“Wanna show me just where you belong?”

[audisive]

♪ BROOKLYN BABY. (💌) – previous part

౨ৎ simon 'ghost' riley | reader

synopsis: the 141 believes the scot now.

tags: fluff, romance, soft!simon, you're basically their mom atp lol, bickering, there's a bet between gaz n soap, gaz secretly wants you shh, ooc characters, not proofread, price being the gentleman he is, he's seriously just watching everything unfold

       It's not always that Ghost is willing to let the 141 stay at his house for their traditions – which is just drinking beer and watching sports, really. In fact, he's always said something about his place being empty, so they always settled on someone else's. They stop asking after a year, and in turn, he stops having reasons.

It's not until Soap pops the question again when everyone else's houses are unavailable for a variety of reasons, his being that he left his faucet on and now his shitty apartment is flooded. You can only imagine the suspicion and shock when Ghost agrees (or, rather, simply grunts).

The drive is long, nothing short of 5 hours, and Soap spends the better half of it bickering with either Gaz or Ghost. He falls asleep by the next half, and when he awakes, he gawks at the lovely looking house before their car. There's two stories to it, a balcony, a front porch, and there's no doubt that there's a backyard.

Contrary to popular belief, no, it is not all black or plain at all. It's all equally surprising to them. The Brit isn't the type to care about the appearance and state of a house, usually. They do envision him in a mostly empty apartment with only a bed and a bathroom, though.

There's a delicate touch to where a rough man lives; the smell is almost heavenly when they enter the house. It's homely, the scent of newly washed sheets and lingering smell of food; there's a cat perched on the living room table that Ghost scratches the head of lovingly in a way that's so casual and natural. It's like they're at the gates of–

"Simon!" Heaven's bells ring in their ears, luring them into the doorway of the living room, and the sound of feet padding against the cold floor. There comes a soft-looking thing running into Ghost's arms, completely engulfing you.

You only notice the three familiar faces of your boyfriend's team members – though you know he considers them family if anything – when you pull away. An angel clad in only a cami top, shorts, and Simon's hand around your waist, you turn to look at the group with a surprised look on your pretty – Soap thinks that God, you're so pretty – face. "Oh, hi," you smile sweetly, obviously awkward at the silence and the staring.

"It's been a while," Ever the gentleman, the gruff voice is the first to speak up with your name uttered, the only who's actually met you – John Price. Soap is too enamored with the way you hold yourself and the fact that, holy fuck, even your name's pretty. Gaz raises a brow at the captain's greeting.

You smile once more – a genuine one now. "Nice to see you again, John."

"'S rude to stare, Johnny." Simon speaks out, a smirk under the mask. "Please excuse him, miss," Gaz adds, this beautiful man, and offers a charming smile.

"You must be Gaz," you hold your hand out, "it's a pleasure to finally meet you."

"Pleasure's all mine," Kyle forgets that a hand could be this soft and gentle, "and please, call me Kyle." He barely stops himself from turning your hand in his to kiss the back of it like one should to a lady so fair; his lieutenant has good taste in women, he'll give him that. And when you're out of the area, Soap is sure to rub it in Gaz's face. I told ye so! LT wis hidin' somethin' from us. A pretty something, that is. You don't miss the way he slips a twenty-dollar bill into the Scottish man's hand.

"Glad tae meet ye," Soap finally says, winking. "Understand why he wis hidin' a bonnie lass like ye from us." There's a mischievous glint in his eye, almost naturally so.

"A'm hurt, LT, but whit can I do? After all, we're just a couple o' brutes, arenae we?"

Simon watches in amusement, "you'll live." Soap is quick to move to your side as you lead the small group of hulking men through your shared home after that.

Simon is visibly more relaxed with you around. He's comfortable, that much is a given, with the way he's taking up most of the thankfully large couch with his manspreading. So is the 141. They're pampered like spoiled children (or pets, really) through the whole day.

Instead of just beer and faucet water, they're offered a variety of drinks in the kitchen that's enough to be considered a private bar. Instead of an empty belly unhealthily stuffed with beer and a mix of mediocre takeout, they're met with warm homecooked meals. They lose track of time quickly; the night falls by the time they've tired themselves out, and they've had not one, but two meals thanks to you.

(They're sure to commend your cooking skills and think of how lucky this tall brute of a man is blessed with a woman so soft and pliant and wonderful and– while Price is the one to be the most grateful, Soap compliments you the most. "A can practically taste the love." You laugh in turn.)

Gaz is the first to speak after a meal so lovely, they could simply just sleep on the floor comfortably and wake to the same smell of home. "It's a bit late, love, we should probably go."

"Thank you for having us," Price smiles down at you kindly.

"Ye've been lovely, bonnie." He wants to stay some more.

"Wait," you stop them, looking up at Simon for further approval. He's already looking at you with a reassuring brush of his thumb on the side of your hip and a nod. You turn your eyes back at them. "It's already late, you three should stay the night. We have enough room for everyone."

There comes, "we don't wanna intrude," then, "we can take care of ourselves, it's alright."

"Please, I insist." Your smile brightens, "I'll even cook breakfast before you leave."

The mohawk moves with a sigh, "now tha's just no' fair, lass. How are we gonna say no tae that?" You giggle. Only then do they find themselves tucked away in the guest room, and boy, you were right when you said it could fit them all if not more.

On the way to the bathroom in the late hours of the night, Soap catches a glimpse of light through the crack of your bedroom door to see his oh-so strong lieutenant, vulnerable in your arms. There's something natural about the way you cradle the large man and kiss his hair like it's part of your DNA, like you're programmed to do that 'cause Soap thinks you're simply unreal.

He's proud of his lieutenant, this lucky bastard. He turns another blind eye once more, but he's paid in full with another fulfilling meal by the morning.

[angelfic]

— THE WAY I LOVED YOU

pairing: theodore nott x reader

summary: in which theodore nott will do anything to get you to go out with him, but you’re just as stubborn rejecting him

warnings: swearing, kissing, dangerous stunts and theo being stupid (ryan gosling in the notebook style), unedited since i wrote this in the middle of the night on no sleep again lol. enemies to lovers if you squint a bit

author’s note: since everyone loves theo i’ll pretend this isn’t just for my own selfish needs <3 (especially the notebook reference) also surprise surprise mc is a gryffindor as always, you’d never know i was a slytherin my bad guys… as always let me know what u think! enjoy, angels 💌

The first time Theodore Nott asks you out, you spill a pot of ink directly into his lap.

It’s not like you meant to do it. But when there’s a Transfiguration worksheet to be getting on with, the Slytherin boy seated next to you by Professor McGonagall asking you out would surely take anyone by surprise.

The second you twist in your seat to look at him in shock, your arm slides the pot right off the desk and directly onto his grey trousers, instantly staining them with the black liquid before you have a chance to speak.

Your hands fly to your mouth to stifle your gasp and you look up at him, anticipating an angry glare in return. Instead, he looks mildly surprised at the ever-growing stain on his crotch, but mostly… amused?

“A simple ‘no’ would have sufficed, darling,” he says, raising an eyebrow and suppressing a smile.

You begin stuttering out an apology and scrambling for your wand to wave away the stain before you can do something stupid like attempting to rub it off with your sleeve. Your cheeks instantly heat up at the humiliating image now plaguing your mind and you barely contain a sigh of relief when you realise the lesson has finished.

It’s a miracle your shoes haven’t left scuff marks on the ground in a cartoonish trail with the speed at which you leave the classroom. Godric knows why Theo Nott of all people wants to ask you out, but since it can’t possibly be for any good reason, you’d rather not think about it too much. This, however, isn’t helped by Hermione pestering you about why you look so flustered for the entire walk to the Charms classroom.

Twenty minutes later, her attention is finally diverted. On the other hand, it’s because she’s berating you for accidentally burning the end of her left eyebrow off with a charm gone wrong.

The second time Theo asks you out, there are thankfully no ink pots around.

“Hey,” he whispers from behind you, making you jump within an inch of your life despite his low volume. You swivel in your chair to glare at him, incredulous. Seeing that he’s startled you, Theo grins. “Sorry. What are you doing?”

“Baking a cake,” you deadpan, once your heart has started beating at a normal pace again. Holding up your Potions book, you feel the annoyance start to seep in when Theo continues looking at you, undeterred. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

Apparently unfazed by your sarcasm, he drags out the chair next to you and spins it around to sit on it backwards. Settling his arms on top of the backrest, Theo rests his chin on them to look at you. “You never did answer my question.”

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you mumble, eyes scanning the page in front of you but taking in nothing. “If you’ll excuse me, I have to study-”

“Are you going to make me ask you again?” he sighs. You panic a little at his bluntness and continue pretending to read, not knowing what else to do. Theo takes your silence as encouragement and shuffles his chair closer to your own. “Go out with me.”

The arrogance practically drips off his voice, and the pit of anxiety in your stomach immediately turns into irritation instead. “No,” you grit out, slamming your potions book shut to scowl at him. “And I don’t hear you asking anything.”

“Okay,” Theo says slowly, nodding as though he understands. It’s clear that he doesn’t though, because the next words out of his mouth have you stunned. “Please, oh please, will you do me the absolute greatest honour of going out with me?”

”Merlin,” you exhale, pinching the bridge of your nose. Dropping your hands into your lap, you see no solution other than gathering your things to return to the common room. “You’re having me on…”

“I can assure you, I’m not,” Theo says quickly, stopping you from leaving by gently grabbing your elbow. You stop in your movements to catch him looking more unsure than you’ve ever seen, and you’ve never been more perplexed. “I’m completely serious right now. Go out with me?”

“Wh- I don’t even-” you sigh, cutting your senseless muttering off to cross your arms over your textbook. “Whatever happened to a simple ‘no’ sufficing, darling? Aren’t there a million other girls for you to go and pester? Godric knows you’ve got an entourage following you half the- What are you looking at?”

Amazingly, Theo’s expression has lost all trace of vulnerability and now displays a slightly faraway look, his signature lazy grin in full effect. “Sorry, I didn’t hear a word after you called me ‘darling’.”

Resisting the urge to hit him over the head with your textbook, you take a deep breath and grasp the potential weapon tighter in your hands before speaking. “As hard as it is for me to believe that girls actually fall for this rubbish, your history with them shows that they do. Don’t think for a second, I’m going to let you use me like they do.”

Theo considers your words for a few seconds, mulling them over as carefully as though he’s trying to solve a brain teaser. Eventually, he seems to come to a satisfying conclusion, because he tucks his hands into the pockets of his trousers and tilts his head. “So you need me to prove I’m serious about this… and then you’ll say yes?”

“Oh, for the love of-” Huffing, you turn on your heal without saying another word and storm out of the library. Theo doesn’t follow you, allowing you to clear your head and think about the incredibly odd interaction.

You’re climbing through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room when you realise you never actually refuted Theo and his theory to make you go out with him. Whether or not it was on purpose, you can’t quite decide.

Over the next few weeks, you start wishing you had stopped Theo before he could start trying to prove himself to you.

You can’t go a single day without the question of going out with him popping up. Much to your bewilderment, it isn’t always him asking. Sometimes it’s his friends, sometimes it’s students at the Gryffindor table who are sick of the multiple owls every morning flocking to your table with a note in their beaks. Sometimes it’s even your friends.

“I mean, really,” Hermione says at breakfast, huffy as always when reprimanding someone. “It’d be benefiting everyone if you just went out with him. Why don’t you, anyway?”

���He’s a Slytherin,” Ron butts in, talking to Hermione as though he’s explaining something to a child. He takes a gigantic bite of his toast before speaking, his next words coming out muffled. “Surely that’s reason enough.”

“No, that isn’t reason enough,” Hermione says sternly, furrowing her brows. “A good reason would have been all the girls he’s always with. Of course, that’s flown out the window recently. He’s also never given them as much attention now that I think about it.”

“He’s definitely not the worst of the group either,” Harry adds, leaning in as nosily as Ron. “Not like we’re talking about Malfoy…”

“Don’t you two have Quidditch tactics to be discussing?” you snap, exhausted by the subject already. The two boys hold up their hands in surrender, before shuffling down the bench. Whether that’s to be closer to the Quidditch team, or to get away from you before you start throwing hexes - you aren’t certain.

The fact you’re awake early in the morning on a Saturday isn’t helping your sour mood, and the Quidditch match being between Gryffindor and Slytherin only adds to this.

“We’d better go and get a good seat at the front, so we aren’t on our tiptoes for the whole game like last time,” Hermione says, already sliding off the bench. You give your cup of coffee one last longing look before you allow yourself to be dragged away.

You haven’t even made it onto the Quidditch pitch before you’re already wishing for that cup of coffee to give you strength, because you find none other than Theo standing outside the Great Hall in his green and silver Quidditch robes.

As soon as he spots you, Theo plasters on that charming smile of his and opens his mouth, no doubt to ask you if you could talk privately.

Hermione interjects before he gets the chance. “Don’t bother, I’m leaving.” She simply sighs when you look at her, betrayed. “He’d have convinced you anyway! I’ll save you a seat.”

You watch her leave, helplessly before turning to Theo and crossing your arms. “Yes?”

“I have a proposition for you,” he says simply, getting to the point. The proposition has, without a doubt, got something to do with you and him and a trip to Hogsmeade, but you gesture for him to continue nonetheless. You can’t deny it’s been entertaining watching Theo come up with new ways to ask you out these past few weeks. “I’ll throw the match and let your lot win if you go out with me.”

This startles a laugh out of you, something between a chortle and a gasp. “Oh, you cheeky bastard,” you exclaim, but you can’t help grinning. That was quite possibly the last thing you expected him to say. “First of all, I think my lot is perfectly capable of winning on their own. And secondly… as funny as it would be, I’d rather not have your death and Malfoy’s subsequent imprisonment in Azkaban be on my conscience.”

You only realise just how wide your smile is when it starts to fade under Theo’s unwavering gaze. His lips twitch up into a smile and you immediately frown as an automatic response. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’re bantering with me,” Theo says, grinning as though he’s extremely pleased with himself. You realise with a jolt, that yes you were bantering. “One step closer to agreeing to go out with me.”

“That’s not happening,” you protest, but it sounds fairly weak, even to you. “Like I keep telling you, I’m not going to be one of those girls.”

Theo shrugs. “And I think you already know you’re not one of those girls. It’s fine, I can wait.”

The relaxed manner in which he says this has you flabbergasted to say the least. Truthfully, you aren’t completely sure why you haven’t just agreed at this point. No one in the whole school is used to witnessing such extravagant displays from Theodore Nott, so you’ve accepted the fact you’re an outlier in this particular subject area. You’re starting to think Hermione’s right, and it’s pure stubbornness that’s keeping you going.

“You’ll be waiting a long time then,” you say, giving Theo a bland smile.

“Nah,” is all he says, the smile still gracing his unperturbed face. “Keep an eye out for me in the Quidditch stands.”

Theo winks at you before walking away in the direction of the pitch and you linger in the castle for a good few minutes before snapping out of it and walking in the same direction.

You find Hermione quickly at the front of the Gryffindor stand and you’re about to ask how long until the game starts when Lee Jordan’s voice begins to boom from the commentator stand.

“Strong start for Gryffindor with Katie Bell taking the Quaffle and- nope, Vaisey’s taken it and passed it onto Urquhart, his fellow Chaser and the new Slytherin captain.” You’re thankful for Lee’s commentary as it’s easy to follow and you probably wouldn’t have a clue if it weren’t for him. Surprisingly, he keeps it professional enough for a while. “Ginny Weasley tries to take the Quaffle after a near hit there to Urquhart, thanks to new Gryffindor Beater Jimmy Peakes and that very solid Bludger over there. Unfortunately, he missed-”

“JORDAN.”

“Sorry, Professor McGonagall, I meant fortunately. Slytherin Chaser Mattheo Riddle now has the Quaffle and seems to be aiming to score and- oops! He’s missed, thanks to Gryffindor Keeper Ron Weasley. Good on you, Weasley,” Lee says, unable to be impartial as shown by McGonagall’s glare. “As for the Slytherin Keeper, Nott seems to be distracted by something in the Gryffindor stands. Or should I say someone.”

Laughter echoes in every stand, much to your utter humiliation and some people even start whooping and cheering in your direction. Theo’s antics are common knowledge at this point, but it doesn’t make the laughter any less embarrassing. You try and maintain a shred of dignity by standing still and glaring as hard as you can at Theo. Horrifyingly, he starts to fly in your direction.

Lee looks at McGonagall before speaking, but she merely shrugs helplessly, looking flustered herself. “Er, well it seems Slytherin are open for Gryffindor to score. No one seems to be taking advantage, however, as I think I can speak for everyone when I say we want to know what’s going on with Nott and Y/N.”

Glancing at the others, you realise Lee is right and all the players are hovering in place, making no move to continue the game. They look partly confused, but mostly nosy.

Theo stops just outside the Gryffindor stand, his attention focused wholly on you. You raise both eyebrows in question, waiting for him to speak. “Go out with me.”

“Unfortunately, I can’t quite hear what Nott is saying, but I think we can all guess he’s asking her out again,” Lee says, causing a few more cheers and even a couple groans. “Take the hint, mate.”

“Theo, get back to the game!” you hiss, wrapping your arms around you as if it’ll shield you from everyone’s eyes. “You’re embarrassing m- What the fuck are you doing!”

Theo swings a leg over the side of his broomstick so that he’s sitting completely facing you, legs dangling dangerously off one side. Lee sits up a little in his booth and McGonagall looks positively horrified. “For unknown reasons, Nott is balancing precariously in a position no Quidditch player wants to- Merlin, he’s hanging off his broomstick!”

Everyone in the crowd screams and shouts when Theo slips off his broomstick, but they quieten down and watch with fright when they see he’s still holding on with both hands. You think you’re going to faint.

“Theo,” you plead, with the same voice you’d use to coax a bloody kitten out of a tree. “Get back on your broomstick. Please.”

“Only if you go out with me,” Theo says, eyes determined despite breathing a little heavier. The broomstick is thin and despite his strength, it’d be hard for anyone to maintain a grip for long. “Say you’ll go out with me and I’ll get back on.”

“Just say it!” Hermione grabs you by the shoulder to shake you.

Professor McGonagall seems to have shaken out of her previous daze and begins scrambling around for her wand while Lee narrows his eyes to better assess the situation. “Godric, Y/N. Just say ‘yes’ and end everyone’s misery already.”

“But…” you trail off, hands shaking as you keep your eyes on Theo’s white knuckles still gripping the broom. “I don’t want to encourage this stupid behaviour.”

Theo rolls his eyes as though he can’t believe you’re still objecting. He shakes his head at you, though his chest is shaking with laughter. “Go out with me, and I swear I’ll never do anything stupid again. Fucking hell, I’ll quit Quidditch altogether if you want.”

You open your mouth to say something, you’re not sure what, but before you can get a word out, Seamus Finnigan pipes up from beside you. “Personally, I say let him fall off the bloody thing.”

Tutting, you turn to Theo just to find the idiot raising an eyebrow challengingly. His left hand begins to loosen on the broomstick, deliberately.

“Theo, don’t you dare.”

He drops his left hand completely and you scream, the noise drowned out by everyone else’s yells.

“OKAY!” you yelp, heart in throat as you watch Theo dangling from his broomstick with one hand, clearly struggling. “Okay, I’ll go out with you, you stubborn idiot!”

The Gryffindors that hear you, begin to cheer, setting off the other houses and once McGonagall sees Theo begin to pull himself up on his broomstick, she visibly relaxes, slumping in her seat as she clutches her chest. Lee soon gets the message. “Finally, after a good month of watching Nott pine pathetically, Y/N has agreed to go out with the poor bast- Er, beggar. Sorry, Professor. By the way Nott, you’ve got detention for a week.”

Now sitting normally on his broomstick, Theo grins at you like the cheeky bastard that he is, with elation clear as day on his face. You struggle to fight off your own grin and you can tell by his expression you’re not doing a very good job at it. “Pull something like that again and I’ll push you off your broomstick myself,” you warn him, though it lacks any real threat. You were more worried than angry, and it definitely shows. “Okay?”

“No more stupid behaviour,” Theo promises, sounding sincere as he nods, messy hair falling into his eyes. The wind blows it out of the way almost immediately and you find yourself wanting to do it with your fingers. “After this, though.”

You furrow your brows as Theo flies close enough to the Gryffindor stand to get off his broomstick and hop right into the crowd, landing next to you. Broomstick in hand, Theo doesn’t take his eyes off you when he holds it out to Hermione. “If you don’t mind, Granger.”

Clearly baffled, Hermione gingerly takes the broomstick from him and watches the two of you, as enraptured as the rest of the school.

You face Theo properly, looking up at his eyes to see them glittering with pride and achievement. You tilt your head in question, wondering why he hasn’t yet returned to the game.

Theo answers you by gripping your waist to pull you into a stupidly dramatic, dizzying, wonderful kiss. His lips are soft against your own and cold from the wind, but the shiver that runs down your spine has nothing to do with the temperature and everything to do with the way Theo is pressed against you.

You could go on forever, but the cheers and claps and hollering around you remind you that you’re surrounded by all your peers and, Godric, your teachers.

Pulling away, you clear your throat and attempt to gain back some of your dignity by keeping a serious face. Theo attempts nothing of the sort as he’s still wearing a silly grin. You try and avoid his eyes for the sake of your nerves and you mutter the first thing that comes to mind. “Erm, good luck then. I hope you win.”

This is the wrong thing to say surrounded by your fellow Gryffindors as a few of them boo at you.

Theo rolls his eyes at the dramatics, while you simply scowl, pointedly at Seamus who seems to have boo’ed the loudest. Hermione is beaming at you when she hands Theo back his broomstick, though she also gives a little frown directed at Seamus.

Getting back on his broomstick, Theo hovers near you outside the stand. You lower your voice to a whisper that only he can hear. “I still hope you win.”

Theo shrugs, looking more relaxed than you’ve ever seen him during a Quidditch game. “I’ve already won, darling.”

© angelfic 2023.

[mieluscious]

baby, warm me up. zayne

ෆ pairings : zayne x female reader

ෆ genre : fluff, smut

ෆ word count : 3k6

ෆ warnings : mdni. husband!zayne, bratty wife!reader, fluff, small argument, teasing, fingering, biting, a lot of kisses, unprotected sex, breeding kink, handjob, hand kink, rough sex, semi-public sex, risk of getting caught, medical office sex, zayne is really cold (you know him..) but really reallyyy soft at the same time, they are both so in love . . . ໑ ‧ ₊ ⊹˚

"what are you doing here." zayne's office door closed behind you as you excitedly threw your shopping bags on the sofa in front of his desk.

"i went shopping and thought : why not say hello to my hubby?" you clapped your hands, smiling at zayne's cold expression. "are you not excited to see me ?" you pouted and placed your hands on your hips. "look at my new dress, isn't it cute ?" zayne pushed his glasses up his nose and turned his attention back to the documents spread out on his desk.

"i have work to do y/n. go back home." he grabbed a pen and resumed his work without giving you another glance. you sighed and threw yourself onto the sofa.

"my husband is so meannnn." you raised your arms and looked at your hands. "i even had my nails done for him. but he doesn't care about me i'm so sad." you whined loudly but zayne was totally indifferent and it was slowly beginning to frustrate you. you suddenly got up and reached into one of your bags, pulling out a cute little top you bought at the mall. "since you don't mind, i'll show you everything i've bought." zayne squeezed his pencil lightly between his fingers at your words. you took off your shoes and unbuttoned your dress, which fell to your feet, leaving you in your underwear in front of his desk. he slowly raised his eyes to you and his eyebrows furrowed at the sight of you half-naked in his workplace.

"what are you doing." it didn't sound like a question, zayne's tone was cold as usual, but this time you could hear the annoyance in his voice, which made you smile slightly. he tapped his pencil repeatedly on the wood of his desk, looking you up and down behind the lenses of his glasses.

"i told you. i'm doing a haul just for you." you winked at him. he pressed his back against his chair and crossed his arms over his chest. you put on your top and zayne's eyes fell on your breasts, a little too visible for his taste because of the little fabric covering your skin. you put your hands on your hips and gave him a few poses to show off your top, you spun around and smiled with all your teeth. you chuckled. "so ? what do you think baby." his cold gaze slid down on the skin of your bare thighs to your hips, before falling back into your eyes.

"i think you should go home, like i said." you sighed and crossed your arms over your chest, and zayne almost broke his pencil at the sight of your breasts sticking out generously.

"i don't want to go back home without you. it's saturday and i want us to have fun tonight." you bent down and reached into your bag to pull out a skirt and scarf. "look i even bought a cute outfit for you." zayne sighed and a discreet, almost invisible smile played across his lips. he rose from his chair and you pressed your clothes to your chest as the tall man approached you.

"look at me." you didn't even realize you'd lowered your gaze to your feet. you looked up at him and your teeth caught your lower lip at his serious expression. "i have a lot of work to do, and you're a distraction." you clenched your fists, you were offended and zayne could see it in your eyes. you threw your clothes against his chest which he caught before they fell to the ground.

"ok, i get it. i'm gonna go have some fun on my own then." you took off your top under zayne's piercing eyes and his fists clenched on your clothes as you also removed your bra.

"y/n. don't push me please." your eyes never left his when you wrapped your arm around your breasts, forbidding him to look. you knew what you were doing was wrong but you couldn't help feeling that childish feeling of jealousy. zayne was always busy with work and having time to spend with him was becoming more and more complicated as the days went by. you crouched down and pulled a silk dress from another bag.

"you see." you straightened up and slipped inside the dress, which gilded deliciously over the curves of your body under your husband's cold gaze. "i was supposed to wear this dress tonight at the restaurant i booked for us. but instead, i'm going to wear it now and go by myself. maybe a man will join me and give me some time ?" you grabbed your purse from the sofa. you brought your hand to your mouth and tilted your head to the side, looking at him again. "maybe rafayel? i don't think he would have forgotten our wedding anniversary." you caught your heels in your hands, wanting to put them in your car, you couldn't stand his silence any longer and you wanted to get out of here as soon as possible. you grabbed the door's wrist to open it when a hand slammed down on the wood to close it again. you turned around and leaned your back against the door, zayne's face down on you. the strands of his hair fell over his dark eyes behind his glasses, making him far too attractive. a knock was heard from the other side of the door.

"doctor zayne ? your patient is here for his appointment." his gaze wandered slowly over every pretty feature of your face before falling back into your beautiful eyes.

"make them wait in the corridor." his other hand wrapped a lock of your hair around its finger. "i'll be there soon, unfortunately, i still have something to take care of." his hand went up to your chin, which he raised towards him. zayne was much more taller than you, sometimes, to look at him you had to stand on tiptoe to keep your balance. he slipped his arm, which was against the door, around your waist, pulling you closer to him. you squealed softly as you felt his face come close to your ear, his lips gently brushing against it. "and you, you come with me." you mewled and grabbed his shirt between your hands as he lifted you by the hips, making you wrap your legs around his waist.

"i hate you." you pouted, wrapping your arms around his neck. he smiled tenderly and placed a small kiss on your cheek, making you blush. he walked to his desk and sat you down on it. his two hands settled on either side of you as he stood between your thighs.

"look at me, princess." his teeth gently caught your ear, making you flinch. "please." you sighed lightly as you removed your arms from around his neck, giving him a chance to see your rosy cheeks. you closed your eyes and his nose touched yours. "i didn't forget our wedding anniversary." he slipped a hand on the small of your back and kissed your jaw before blindly reaching behind you for a small box on his desk. you slowly opened your eyes on a beautiful diamond ring and gasped.

"w-what is this.." you grabbed the box between your trembling fingers and raised your face to zayne's, who rested his forehead against yours, smiling softly.

"i told you to leave so that you could take the time to make yourself even more beautiful than you are now." he tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear before gently kissing the corner of your lips. "i have a lot of work to do and i wanted to get everything done so i could get back to you as soon as possible." he grabbed your hips with both hands and pulled you closer to him, making you blush even more under his cold eyes.

"i feel so stupid." you caught your face in your hands. "i'm so sorry zayne." he caught one of your fingers between his teeth, nibbling gently.

"don't be sad, my love." your hands slowly fell from your face. "i was a bit stressed and i know i can be cold sometimes." you immediately looked up and saw him smiling.

"sometimes huh ?" he chuckled softly and your heart began to race.

"yes i know. but you're not afraid of the ice, are you ?" his cold fingers slid over the bare skin of your thighs, pulling up your dress. you grabbed his shirt again, moaning softly under his piercing eyes.

"i'm not." he lightly pinched the sensitive skin of your inner thighs, making you flinch. zayne's face pressed against your neck and he took the opportunity to lick the sensitive spot under your ear, a whimper escaped from between your lips as your legs suddenly wrapped around his waist.

"so why don't you try to warm me up ?" this time you couldn't resist anymore, you needed him. one of your hands grabbed his white lab coat, bringing him closer to you causing him to catch himself with one hand on the desk behind you. your lips met the skin of his neck and a silent moan escaped from his mouth. "eager aren't we ?" your teeth sank into his flesh and his head tilted back slightly when he felt your small hands grab his belt. your hand slipped into his pants to catch his length, you bit your lip painfully, trembling. a soft moan escaped from between zayne's lips. "your hands are so warm." he lowered his head and your eyes met again, he opened his mouth slightly as you began to slowly move your hand over his cock, jerking him off as you analyzed every pretty feature of his face.

"i love you." you sighed softly and he smiled lightly between two moans. he placed his hands on either side of you, his forehead pressed to yours, making you tremble even more at this new proximity.

"why are you shaking my darling ?" a chuckle escaped him. "i'm the one who's getting touched." his eyes fell on your hand, which was gently caressing him. "by such a pretty hand." he raised his eyes back to yours and your gaze almost made him cum in your hand. you were so pretty, your cheeks were as rosy as flowers and your eyes were glassy. every time you touched zayne he had this feeling that you were taking more pleasure than he was, and seeing you like this made you even more adorable in his eyes.

your thumb slipped over his tip and zayne let out a growl that you swallowed in a tender kiss. your glossy lips caressed his gently as his tongue slipped into your mouth to meet yours. you sucked his lower lip shyly as you felt his hands grab your dress. he tried to escape your lips to talk but your grip on his cock tightened, making him moan against your mouth. you pressed your mouth harder against his and your tongue slid against his teeth, making him smile during the kiss. his breathing quickened as your hand slid up and down his length faster. a knocking sounded at his office door, but zayne paid it no mind. he moved one of his hands up to your jaw and his fingers slipped over your hairline as he deepened the kiss, making you moan inside his mouth.

"doctor zayne ? your patient is waiting." his tongue wrapped around yours before sucking on it gently. your other hand went up his muscular back, and you pulled his lab coat off his shoulders. he immediately understood what you wanted and pulled his hands away from you to remove it completely from him. your mouth never left his it was as if you needed it to breathe or you could die just under him. you pressed his cock against his stomach and rubbed it harder against your palm, making him grip the edge of the desk firmly. he was now panting against your mouth and your tongue couldn't resist licking his lips. everything was so delicious, the minty taste of his mouth was addictive.

"ah- stop. im gonna cum." he suddenly grabbed your thigh and lifted it. "i don't want to ruin the pretty dress you bought for me." your lips slipped from his mouth to his jaw, which you nibbled softly. "please. take it off." his other hand slipped under your butt to pull the fabric of your dress through. you removed your hand from his cock and grabbed the edges of your dress which you pulled over your head before bringing back your mouth to the skin of his neck.

"i missed you so much, zayne. a-ah-" you moaned prettily as you felt him tug roughly at your lace panties before tossing them behind him. you wrapped your arms around his neck as he slid his hands under your knees, positioning your feet on the edge of his desk, opening you up to him as much as possible.

"i know baby, i know. i'm sorry, i'm here now." you nodded and threw your head back, feeling the tip of his cock slide between your walls. you removed your arms from around his neck and grasped his shirt firmly in your hands, moaning loudly. zayne removed one of his hands from under your knee and slid his fingers against your lips. his piercing gaze met your glassy eyes. "shhh-" he pushed his cock further into you and he could see in your eyes that you were on the verge of climax. "you have to be quiet" you nodded, a tear fell down your cheek and zayne bit down on his bottom lip to keep himself from grunting at the sight of you in such despair. you squealed against his fingers as he placed his lips on your eye, kissing you softly. "it's gonna be fine. you want to feel good, hm ?" you nodded again and your chest heaved as he thrust his full length inside you. you pulled so hard on his shirt that buttons popped off and spread across the floor, revealing his muscular chest. you were now panting against his mouth and zayne frowned while looking deep into your teary eyes, trying to calm himself down.

"z-zayne..ahhh..." you grabbed the hair on the back of his head as he started thrusting inside you slowly, letting you get used to him. he slid both of his hands on your hips and you threw your head back as his gaze fell on your juicy, erotic lips. he wanted to eat them so bad, but he didn't want to miss your little moans under his thrusts. another tear rolled down your cheek and zayne immediately licked it off. he opened his mouth to let out small moans when he felt your legs wrap around his waist, making him thrust his cock even deeper until he reached your g-spot. you almost fell backwards when you felt his tip strike against the most sensitive spot of your body, zayne caught you by the small of your back.

"how does it feel ? good ?" you nodded and opened your mouth to speak, but a cry escaped you as he thrust a bit faster inside you, making you arch against his hand on your back . you grabbed his fingers still against your lips and slipped them into your mouth to stop you from being too loud. his cold gaze returned back to yours and you couldn't help biting his fingers, making him flinch slightly. an almost non-existent smile spread across his lips as he watched you try to apologize between your uncontrollable moans. he laid you flat on the desk and let out a deep groan when he looked down on your pussy gushing and clenching on his cock. he grabbed the back of your knees with one hand and pressed them against your chest, this new position made you turn your eyes to the back of your skull. his erection was impossibly hard and the thick veins on the underside of his cock were consistently dragging over your silken flesh.

"z-zayne....ahh....ahh....ahh...hmph!-" zayne put his knee on the desk, fucking you even more deeply as he looked straight into your eyes, his mouth hang opened and silent moans escaped from between the reddened lips you'd kissed passionately earlier. "it's.... ahhh-.. too m-much-" you tried to grab everything you could around you, the edges of his desk and the document holders lying around, everything.

"take it, please. look at you. you look so pretty with your face all red." you were now a crying and moaning mess under his powerful thrusts. zayne didn't care about you being noisy anymore, the whole hospital could hear you and probably the patient who'd been waiting for him in the corridor for thirty minutes. but all he wanted was fucking you good, fucking you the way you always deserved it. "so pretty. please, let’s make a baby." you nodded and you squirted a little against his pelvis at his words. with his free hand he was about to pull his shirt off his shoulders when you grabbed the fabric of his sleeve, letting him know that you wanted him to give it to you. zayne dropped the back of your knees and straightened up to take off his shirt, which he then handed to you.

you pressed his shirt against your face, savoring the scent of your husband as he removed his cock from your cunt and turned you over so that you were lying on your side. you bit down gently on the fabric of his shirt when you met his cold eyes again. he positioned himself back on his two legs on the floor and bent down to gently kiss the skin of your hip before straightening up again, making you whimper. he grabbed your leg and put it on his shoulder before sinking back inside and immediately start fucking you deep. "ahh.. yes princess, you like it like that ?-" he moaned and a streams of yes’s escaped from your glossy lips as lewd squelching and skin slapping against skin noises were bouncing off the office walls. he pulled your leg towards him to bring you closer, making you bounce on his cock harder with each thrust and you couldn't help but scream as you felt his tip hit your g-spot with full force. you pressed your nose deeper into his shirt and your eyes rolled back into the back of your skull as you smelled the musky scent of his cologne. zayne pressed his pelvis against your clit and the opportunity was too good for you not to rub up against him. "look at me." you looked up into his beautiful green eyes and immediately opened your mouth wide, mewling loudly as you saw zayne blush, with his glasses almost falling off his nose. one of his hand caught your sensitive ear and he pressed it between his two digits, making you arch your back. "you like my scent mh ?" you nodded, biting your lower lip under his watchful gaze. "when i'm at work, do you use my shirts to touch yourself with them ?" you squealed and pulled the fabric of his shirt up over your nose, revealing only your eyes.

"y-yes.." zayne suddenly grabbed your hips and flipped you onto your stomach, he fucked you so hard that the desk rocked back and forth. he pressed his chest against your back and you gripped the edges of the desk firmly as you felt his hand slide under your belly to massage your clit. zayne slipped his tongue into your ear and you couldn't help yourself from screaming even louder as you felt your orgasm building inside you. "z-zayne...ahhhh....ahhhhh...i-m... cuming-" he removed himself from your cunt and turned you over onto your back again, he lifted your ass before thrusting roughly into you, his balls slapping against your cheeks loudly.

"look at me, princess." he was panting against your lips and his forehead was pressed against yours as his nails dug into your skin, a sign that he was close to cumming too. you looked up into his beautiful eyes and a smile played on his lips between two moans. "are you ready to be a mom, y/n ?" you nodded repeatedly and begged him against his lips to let you cum. “then take it all.”

“y-yes…yes!-” you shouted, arching your back and pressing your breasts harder against his chest as you squirted against him. he moaned loudly as he came at the same time as you, you shook your hips in pure satisfaction, allowing zayne’s swollen cock to enjoy the pleasure of your tight, tender passageway walls as they sucked it in over and over again, prolonging your orgasm. the sound of his balls slapping against your ass echoed throughout the room and you were certain that the nurse on the other side of the door knew what you were doing. zayne slowed the pace of his hips and you squealed against his lips when he slid his hands over your breasts, pressing them together. he panted against your mouth trying to recover from his orgasm as you felt his semen flowing between your legs. “baby.. it’s leaking..” zayne kissed your cheek and slipped one of his hands between your legs, he removed his cock from your pussy and slipped two fingers between your walls pushing his cum deep inside. you wrapped your arms around his shoulders and kissed the top of his head, giggling.

“happy wedding anniversary, zaynie.”

© 𝙢𝙞𝙚𝙡𝙪𝙨𝙘𝙞𝙤𝙪𝙨 ! 𝙢𝙙𝙣𝙞 — 𝘥𝘰 𝘯𝘰𝘵 𝘴𝘵𝘦𝘢𝘭, 𝘮𝘰𝘥𝘪𝘧𝘺 𝘰𝘳 𝘳𝘦𝘱𝘰𝘴𝘵 𝘮𝘺 𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘬 𝘱𝘭𝘴 𝘥𝘰𝘯'𝘵 𝘮𝘢𝘬𝘦 𝘮𝘦 𝘮𝘢𝘥 𝘪𝘮 𝘩𝘶𝘮𝘢𝘯 𝘫𝘶𝘴𝘵 𝘭𝘪𝘬𝘦 𝘺𝘰𝘶. ☆⌒(>。<)

[lemonlover1110]

𝐀 𝐃𝐎𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐇𝐔𝐒𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐃

Pairing: Trueform!Sukuna x f!Reader

Summary: Your husband usually calls for you to join him during his bath.

Warnings: MDNI, mentions of Sukuna killing people, rough pregnancy, Sukuna being fluffy (so slightly ooc), reader is mean to Sukuna

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Ever since you shared the news of your pregnancy with your husband, Sukuna has become more loving. The man who’d talk to you however he wanted, now makes sure to soften his voice when talking to you. He wants to see you every hour of the day, even when you don’t want to see him. Sukuna is seeing how you’re struggling with your pregnancy, and he wants to check up on you constantly.

You’re not too far along that you both know of, yet you’re huge. He grows worried that his selfish want of a child will cause you harm. There’s one person that Sukuna would die for, and it’s you. If something were to happen to you because of himself then he’d– He doesn’t want to think of it.

Lately he’s been asking to take baths with you. At the end of the day, a servant walks into your chambers and informs you, “Lord Sukuna requests for you to join him in his bath, mistress.”

She bows her head to not look at you, scared that she’ll end up like the last servant that dared to look you in the eye. It was Sukuna’s doing because how dare someone look his wife in the eye? You sigh before telling her, “I’ll be there in a second.” 

She stands in the entrance of your room, given orders to not leave without you. Sure, Sukuna requests to see you but it’s an order from him. You don’t have much of an option. 

You follow behind her, and she excuses herself when you’re finally with him. Sukuna lays comfortably in the water, patiently waiting for you to get undressed and join him in the water. He watches as you take off all your garments and walk over to him when you’re completely bare. 

“You need to start leaving me alone, you’re starting to annoy me.” You tell him as you get in the water. Sukuna chuckles, finding it amusing how you’ve completely stopped fearing him. One of his hands caresses you from your breasts to your bump, resting there.

“Now, why are you getting mad at me? I thought you wanted a loving husband?” Sukuna comments, kissing the top of your head. Your hand rests on top of his, lightly squeezing it.

“I wanted one before he got me pregnant. I swear I must be carrying twins– Or the baby also has four arms. I don’t know, I’m just miserable.” You confess, and Sukuna kisses the top of your head again. He really shouldn’t have expected it to be any different. Sukuna’s huge, why would his baby be any different?

“It’s just one and done then?” He asks, and you hum in response. Maybe your answer will be different in a few years, but for now it’s that. He feels a tug on his heartstrings, seeing how much you’re struggling. He’s worried. “Are you holding up okay, though?”

“Not like we could do anything if I wasn’t.” You answer. He’s definitely much softer than your usual husband, and you would’ve loved it if you weren’t carrying a monster child. His hand remains on your stomach, and he feels as his baby kicks while you moan in pain. Sukuna shushes you, feeling as his baby moves.

“I’m trying to feel him! Shut up, woman!” He raises his voice, and you slightly turn to glare at him. A look that would surely kill you if you were anyone else.

“How does me making noise correlate with you feeling the baby! Think, Sukuna! Use your fucking brain.” You’re definitely bolder than usual, which makes him laugh. 

“You’re so beautiful when you’re yelling at me.” He says, grabbing your hand and bringing it up to his lips so he can kiss it. “I love seeing you demanding and mean. It shows the effect I have on you.”

“Really?” You answer, and he hums in response. There’s no better time to bring up what’s been bugging you than now. “I hate that new servant you took in. Kick her out.”

“And why is that?” He asks. 

“She was looking at you funny.” You respond.

“In the sense?”

“She has the hots for you, and I don’t like it.”

“Hmm… What if I was looking for–” He begins and you glare at him. He doesn’t have much of a sense of humor, but he guesses that’s something that’s off limits when he tries to joke. “Don’t you want me to do more?”

“Like what?” You question, even though you should know your husband better than anyone.

“Kill her.” He answers. 

“Hmm… Up to you.” You reply. You lay comfortably on his chest, feeling as his finger traces lazy circles on your belly. You change the topic, “Why do you think it’s a boy?”

“I can’t see myself with a daughter.”

[anni1309-blog]

pairing: felix catton x reader 🎀

summary: felix is your stepbrother. what happens if you hear him moaning your name in the bathtub? no one needs to know.

warnings: smut, pseudo-incest, innocence kink, corruption kink, dom felix, sub reader, size kink, dacryphilia, slight choking, creampie, mdni!

word count: 2k

you tossed in your sheets, impossible to get comfortable. every position seemed make you ache, and you were too warm under the blankets, and too cold on top of them. your frustrated huff was the only sound in the quiet night, so you pulled ourself out of bed. the door creaked open, and you crossed the hallway, bare feet padding softly on the marble floors, on your way to felix’s room. it became a habit that you would crawl into felix’s bed and him pulling you close to caress your hair until you fell asleep in his arms.

felix was your stepbrother. you lost your parents when you were very young, and since your family was always close to the cattons, sir james brought you into their home and raised you just like one of his own. so you and felix were always really close. he was protective caring and sweet as if you were his real sister. when you two got older and went to collage, felix was very overprotective over you when it came to you talking to guys, wanting to protect your purity. people would usually think that you two were a couple, the way you would sit in felix’s lap during break or how he would fix your hair when it’s messy or kiss your cheek or temple goodbye.

but on this night when you slipped into felix’s room, you noticed that it was empty. worried as to where he had gone and a bit fussy, you went to look for him, when suddenly you saw light and steam coming from the bathroom. as you grew closer you heard your name being called a in soft but groaning tone, so you curiously advanced till you got to the gap of the door. looking through the gap you saw your stepbrother in the bathtub, eyes closed, mouth slightly agape and his hand stroking himself. you again heard him moaning your name. happily that you found him but not wanting to scare him, you slowly opened the door.

the sound of your feet made him stop his movements and his dark eyes flitted up to you as you drew closer, taking in the sight of you in your short little nightgown. you had no clue how sexy and cute you looked, even as you knuckled at your eyes with a sleepy pout on your face. his deep voice bounced off the room “couldn’t sleep, doll? come here.” so you slipped off your nightgown and joined him in the tub and he pulled you to sit down sideways on his lap. you snuggled down against his chest, with your head resting under his chin. he sighed gently, running his hand up and down your bare thigh. “can’t sleep without you, lix” you mumble softly against his warm skin. he hummed slowly and he felt his heart squeeze. felix placed soft and slow butterfly kisses on your face while stroking your face with his thumb. the he kissed your lips sensually, his large hands coming to your bum squeezing it and taking the opportunity to slip his tongue past your lips as you whined.

“lix?” you murmured against his lips.

“what is it, princess?” his heart melted when he saw your glossy eyes.

"m’feeling achey” you whispered looking up at him wriggling from the feeling of lust that built between your thighs.

knowing what that meant he reached his hands down to your thighs, then slowly trailed his fingers upwards until he touched you brushing over your swollen clit, he had to resist letting out a groan “I can help you baby, do you trust me?” you made affirmative whimper sounds as you nodded quickly looking up at him again with a desperate but curious look “I love you lix, but is this okay for brother and sister to do?“

he laughed softly as he looked at you. his breath hitched in his throat and his eyes became filled with desire. your innocent and submissive persona was too much for him to resist, and he felt like he would burst “we love each other right? and no one needs to know”

he guided his fingers against to your exposed cunt, circling around it as you made needy sounds. working in the first finger making you mewl in pleasure, thrusting and curling it slowly before easing in a second one making you already feel very full. squirming and whining “too big” on top of him made him coo “shh doll, you can take it, I need to work you open for me a bit” placing a kiss on your cheek before moving his fingers more quickly in and out of you spreading them. feeling the pleasure more and more building up you tighten around his fingers, fussing when he went to pull them out “please lix, please I’m not done-“ you blabber as a few desperate tears roll down your cheeks.

trying to distract you from the emptiness he took your smaller hand into his much larger one, dragging it down to place it against his already very hard throbbing cock. "that’s not going to fit, you’re too big, lix," you mumbled, eyes wide like saucers as you keep staring at his big cock, your stomach squeezing as you thought about the tear. felix gave a confident smile into your shoulder, kissing down your chest, taking one nipple into his mouth while massaging the other one, while you arch your back towards him.

"so sweet-" he coos gripping my chin making you meet his eyes, "are you sure you want to?"

"yes." you reassure.

he reveled in your pretty moans, using his hand to stroke and line himself up with your cunt. he antagonizingly but carefully pulled you down on his cock, stretching you open.

you wince and gasp slightly when he reaches halfway, "I know it’s a lot just a little more”. he coils his fingers between yours again, to distract you.

"gotta relax baby, I got you," he strokes your hand with his thumb before bringing his other to rub your clit. the pain melted away quickly as the feeling of fullness overwhelmed your senses.

he continues to bottom out and moves deeper as you got accustomed on the new sensations, the feeling of him filling you to the brim by pure size and the gentle pleasure from circling your clit. your whimper was loud as he bottomed out, the tip of his cock brushing against your cervix, you felt impossibly full from his thick and long cock. your nails softly dug into his biceps, he began to gently build up a slow yet punishingly deep pace.

“baby, you are so tight, squeezing me so well” a groan fell from his lips as he threw back his head as your warm walls hugged his cock.

his slow deep pace settled into a faster more desperate one, pounding your cunt, hoisting you up and down by your waist all intent to be gentle with you disappeared.

“such a good girl for me, so small but taking me so well” he grunts and you let out needy moans, desperate tears falling down your cheeks as you sob out his name. felix watched you with a slight smug grin feeling himself getting even harder.

"look so pretty crying for my cock, sweetheart” placing a hand around your neck squeezing ever so slightly making your head spin.

“pleas-“ you try but his pace is so fast and rough now, water is splashing out the tub and your thoughts are completely empty now.

"I think l've fucked you dumb, baby” he said in a slight condescending tone letting him do everything, use you how he wants squelching and thudding as he slams inside you.

“lix, m’feeling funny, feels like I need to pee” you say in a whine, your eyes glazed with innocence. with felix’s orgasm also already close, his thrusts slightly sloppy and mumbles encouragingly “just let go, doll, you can do it.”

you let out a high pitch moan when a sensation hits you like lightning making you shake and shiver as you clench your thighs together clinging to felix. your reaction pushes him to his climax as he pushes one last time balls deep into your tight hole, twitching and filling you with his release to the brim.

felix caresses your hair gently holding you close. “you did so good for me, my girl” he whispers and kisses your forehead. you were too exhausted to move so your eyes fluttered closed as you sank into the full feeling.

“let’s go to sleep, hm?”

[logansdoll]

night terror

one of logan's nightmares goes awry... in the worst way possible.

CW: angst with a happy ending, Logan is so sweet, he just needs love and reassurance, blood, gore, you can heal just like Logan but it takes a little longer... so you're still in pain.

For as long as you'd known him, Logan always had horrible night terrors.

Bouts of kicking and thrashing.

Trembles of phantom pain.

Roars of agony and torture.

The earlier days were the hardest.

To see your lover in such consistent and unrelenting pain.

To watch him war with, not only with the demons of his past, but with himself, nearly every night.

You often wondered how one man could bear it all...

And somehow still have the strength to greet you with a smile come morning.

Even still, eventually—be it wishful thinking or whatever else—you reached a point where you believed at least this was it.

This had to be as bad as it could get... right?

Wrong.

And you wouldn't realize just how terribly wrong you were... until a cold December night...

In the midst of one of the worst night terrors you'd ever seen him through.

"LOGAN!" your voice screamed, full of fear and cracking with pain as it echoed around him.

Logan was surrounded by perpetual darkness, barely able to see the hand in front of his face, and only able to hear your shrieks echo in his mind.

"(y/n)?" his brows furrowed, panic rising in his tone as he snapped his head around in search of you. "(y/n)?!"

"LOGAN!" you cried again, the sound seeming to tear through your throat.

"I'm comin'!" he called, breaking into a run as he frantically looked around. "I'll find you! Stay put!"

"Will you now?" a sickeningly familiar voice chided.

Logan froze in his tracks, his claws extending on pure instinct as his eyes landed on the man before him.

William Stryker.

Never before had Logan experienced such anger at the sight of a singular person.

"What have you done to her?" he asked, trembling with fury.

The man chuckled, motioning toward his feet with an amused smile.

"I believe you mean: what have you done to her..."

Logan's eyes trailed down to the floor, and the moment they were met with your unmoving form, all time and space seemed to halt.

He couldn't breathe.

He couldn't speak.

Why did the world make him pay for his sins by putting you through so much pain?

Walking toward you, he couldn't believe it was real—that anything was.

But as he dropped to his knees and cupped your cheek, only to be met by the icy burn of your skin, he lost all control.

Blinded by nothing but pure, unbridled rage, he let out a deafening roar, leaping forward and plunging his claws deep into Stryker's stomach.

Only... your voice was the one that gasped.

In the time it took him to blink, the darkness was gone, and he was suddenly back in his bedroom, sitting upright your shared bed.

But rather than having Stryker impaled on his claws, it was you, squeezing his forearms with a look of surprise.

A look of pure horror unfolded on his face, and as his eyes lowered to your stomach, he was greeted by the huge stains of red soaking through your tank top, and only getting larger.

"Logan," you grunted, softly, trying to muster a smile as you fought through the pain, already aware of the thoughts racing through his head. "It's okay."

Quickly, his claws retracted, and you jolted with them, letting out another pained grunt.

"Doll..." his voice cracked, small and broken.

It was just as he feared.

Clutching your stomach, you slowly began to fall, but Logan frantically moved, catching and cradling you in his arms.

"(y/n)!" he panicked, practically heaving as he looked you over, struggling to find the words. "Shit! Fuck, I didn't mean to... I didn't see... you were just... I couldn't stop—"

You quieted him by raising a hand to his cheek, softly cupping it as your thumb smoothed over his cheekbone.

He leaned into your touch almost instantly, his free hand coming to rest over yours.

"You have nothing to apologize for," you assured with a warm smile, lifting your shirt to reveal one of the holes was already closing up. "Look... it's healing already."

Seeing that it was, indeed, already closing, he let out a heavy exhale, the sight helping him calm down if only slightly

But it didn't refute the principle of what he did.

The evidence might disappear, but he still hurt you.

It was your blood staining the sheets.

It was your blood staining your shirt.

And it was your blood staining his hands.

What kind of man was he?

What kind of man couldn't protect his own girl... from himself?

"Don't you dare," you ordered, tone firm as you sat up on your knees, the second hole having closed.

His face made his thoughts perfectly clear.

Logan watched you, intently, as your other hand came to rest on his other cheek, holding him in place as your eyes poured into his.

"I don't know what happened in your dream, but I am right here," you assured, your voice unwavering. "I am perfectly fine and I am perfectly safe, because you are here with me."

Slowly, his eyes flicked down to your stomach, the torn holes and bloodstains still there despite the healed skin.

"I hurt you..." he warned, watching his hands as they slowly slid down to rest on your hips. "This could happen again."

You smiled, your hands sliding down to rest on his chest, feeling his heartbeat pound against his skin.

"Then I'll heal... and we'll start over."

You took his hand in yours, leaning forward and resting your forehead against his with a cheesy grin.

"It'll take a lot more than that to get rid of me."

He let out a small chuckle at the poorly timed joke, and you placed a tender kiss on his soft lips, before pulling back and flashing him other smile.

And although he seemed to be okay, Logan never truly let go of that night, the memory a nagging reminder in the back of his mind.

After a little more time, he eventually re-acclimated himself to sleeping so close to you—only now, he kept his arms firmly wrapped around you, and trained himself to keep his hands pointed as far away from you as possible.

It took a while, and the terrors from his past still plagued his nights...

But, awake or otherwise, he never hurt you again.

[slutforleeminho]

“i wanna try something.” you breathed out between the hot and messy kisses you were giving minho, his hands gripping your waist tighter and pulling your hips down against his clothed bulge. he was already so hard, it amazed you how you could do the bare minimum and he would be fully erect in just minutes.

“whatever you want, baby.” he looked at you with so much love and admiration. that’s how he always responded to your requests, inside and outside the bedroom. ‘whatever you want, if i have it it’s yours.’ and then he’d kiss you until you forgot what it was you were even asking of him.

“you don’t even know what it is yet. how can you be so sure that you’ll want to?” you moved away from his lips to his neck, leaving little love bites as you went. he sighed when you sucked on the little sensitive spot behind his ear.

“oh baby, it isn’t in my blood to say no to you, especially when you’re sitting on top of me like this. you could tie me down to this bed right now and take me however you wanted and i wouldn’t refuse.” his brows were furrowed and eyes screwed shut, focusing on the feeling of your lips on his skin. he looked so fucked out, which made you wonder if he was just saying those things and not actually meaning them. but you refused to pass this moment up without at least trying. so you sat straight up, separating your top half from his. his eyes shot open and searched you face for the answer as to why you stopped. “did i say something wrong? i’m sorry, love, i didn’t-”

“no, you said exactly what i wanted to hear.” you smirked down at him, waiting for him to realize what you meant and when his eyes widened and you felt his dick twitch through his thin sweatpants you knew he understood. “would you like that? for me to cuff you this bed and have my way with you,” you asked in the most innocent voice you could, a big contrast to your words. “use you however i please.” your words went straight to his throbbing cock.

“yes. fuck, baby please.” his eyes were full of lust and anticipation, his voice so quiet and submissive that you didn’t recognize this person under you at all. you didn’t respond verbally, settling on silently removing yourself from his lap and stripping him of all remaining clothing. you didn’t get naked yourself until the pair of handcuffs you kept in your bedside table were safely securing his wrists to the bed frame above his head. when you did take your clothes off you did so very slowly, taking your time just to see him squirm. Minho didn’t take his eyes off of you once, not until you were back on top of him and the tip of his pulsing cock was pressed against your entrance. he threw his head back and sighed before he swallowed hard, trying to keep himself from falling apart beneath you. at least not so soon.

you took in everything about this moment, not wanting to forget anything about it. the way the veins that ran down his arms bulged, to the way he twitched every now and then, seemingly very worked up. his chest rising and falling violently, you’ve never seen him like this, so…. so submissive and pliant. it made you want to eat him alive. you ran your hands up his torso, feeling his hot skin against the palm of your hands. a little whine escaped his lips when you grazed his nipples with your fingernails. his hips rutted up into you, resulting in his swollen tip slipping inside of you. he gasped from the sudden stimulation and raised them higher in search of more. you took both of his nipple in between your fingers and and pinched them. he winced from the pain and looked at you with confusion all over his face.

“bad boy,” his eyes widened. “ i didn’t say you could do that.” you didn’t know why you had said that and immediately regretted it. minho was always the dominant one in your relationship, the one who called the shots, the one who called you a bad girl. and that’s why you were in complete shock when he uttered a quiet “i’m sorry.” you tried to hide your surprise the best you could and continue with your switched roles. “how will you make it up to me?” he scanned the room as if the answer was written on the walls somewhere, and apparently it was cause his eyes lit up as he quickly turned his head to look at you.

“sit on my face.”

“hmmm,” you pretended to think about it. “should i?” he quickly nodded and you chuckled at his eagerness. the thought did have you clenching so you moved up his body until your thighs were on either side of his head. his eyes sparkled as he stared at your dripping sex, his tongue slipping out to wet his lips. he looked starved and he just found the perfect meal, so he lifted his head in attempt to attach his lip to your core. he only made it so far before you yanked his head back by his hair. “once again, not asking for permission,” your whole brain chemistry was altered when he basically sobbed, a little tear sliding down the side of his face. “i should punish you,” you were loving this a little too much. “but that will have to wait.” he opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off by completely sitting on his mouth. he didn’t miss a beat before devouring, running his tongue through your folds before nipping and sucking harshly on your clit. his hands were balled up into fists and pulling away from the cuffs, his biceps flexing from the strain on his muscles. the veins on his arms were protruding and you couldn’t keep yourself from running a finger over them, tracing out the greenish blue lines. his skin was on fire, almost too hot for you to touch. almost.

you mindlessly started grinding down on his tongue, riding his face for your own pleasure. you weaved your fingers through his hair, pulling him closer to you, chasing after the euphoric feeling you knew only he could give you. and after a few more thrusts of his tongue and sucking hard on your clit one last time, you were coming. chest heaving and moaning his name like it’s the only thing you knew. once you came down and moved off of his face minho took a deep breath of air and only then you realized you almost suffocated the poor boy. “aww i’m sorry baby, could you not breathe?” you held the side of his face, wiping away your arousal from the corner of his mouth. he was too busy trying to catch his breath to answer you but that was fine you’d get an answer out of him.

you sank down on his cock completely without so much as a warning. “ah- baby wait- i wasn’t- fuck i wasn’t ready.”

“i don’t need your permission.” you ground yourself against him. he threw his head back against the pillows and arched his back.

“if you keep going i’m gonna come. so please… stop.” he pleaded, his voice was so quiet which was very unlike him, so you knew he was telling the truth, he was about to explode.

“you want me to stop?” you went from grinding to full on bouncy on him now.

“ahh fuck i’m coming!” his eyes screwed shut, bracing himself for quite possibly the most intense orgasm he’s ever had. only for it to be ripped away. his eyes shot open. “why’d you stop?!” he looked infuriated with you, he was so close why would you take that away from him?

“you told me to stop.” you smirked at him. “why? did you want to come? i’m so, so sorry.” you were talking to him like a baby, pouting down at him like he was a child. “well i guess we can consider that your punishment.”

“uncuff me.” he demanded. “now.”

“oh baby i’d love to.” you grinned. “ but i’m not finished with you yet.”

.

.

.

i’m back!!!!! did you miss me?

taglist: @bangchansbae @yumiblogs @fawnpeaks

[wheresarizona]

Columba 

summary: It isn’t until you’re in his home that you learn it’s General Marcus Acacius who’s summoned you for your services—you’re not sure why he did, when the other courtesans standing beside you, hoping to be chosen by him, have bodies that look nothing like yours.

pairing: Marcus Acacius/Plus Size f!reader (Courtesan)

rating: E (18+!! This is smut. No y/n, explicit smut, plus size reader, courtesan reader, age gap (reader is of legal age in today’s standards), takes place pre-Gladiator 2, dommy Marcus Acacius (loves giving orders), he’s a tiny bit possessive, unprotected p in v (wrap it up!), creampie, rough sex, backshots, woman on top, oral sex (m receiving), vaginal fingering, breast worship, hair pulling (m receiving), slight breeding kink, (1) pussy slap, dirty talk, spanking, spit mention, some biting, with hair like that he wants it pulled, some sweetness at the end) 

word count: 4.8k+

a/n: I took one look at Marcus’ hair and immediately thought, that guy likes his hair pulled. I also decided that since he spends weeks to months with a bunch of men at a time, when he comes home, he really appreciates a curvy woman. Honestly, I didn’t think I’d be able to write anything for him until I saw the movie, but the trailer got me. This is unbeta’d, all mistakes are my own. I hope you enjoy!

Thank you for reading! Comments and reblogs feed me. I’d love to know what you thought!

Masterlist

It was the marble bust atop a pedestal that revealed whose home you were in. The opulence of the domus’ atrium, with its four tall marble columns surrounding the impluvium's shallow, sunken pool in the middle of the room and the compluvium’s opening in the ceiling above it, allowing the moon’s light to filter in, told you whoever lived here had notoriety—then you saw the face carved out of stone, recognizing the curls and strong nose you'd only ever seen as he was paraded past you down the street in honor of his latest victory, and you knew.

General Marcus Acacius is a man feared by many for his ferocity and skills in battle. It's been said Mars, the God of War, blessed his birth, while others believe his bloodline is descended from the God himself. What you know to be true is he's a gifted General that the Emperors and Gods have smiled upon, and in his presence, an intimidating figure you didn't dare look at unless you were addressed.

There are four women standing to your right, all of you younger than him, naked, and courtesans of the highest standard—well-educated and well-versed in politics along with the pleasures of the body—and highly sought out by society's elite. 

Marcus is at the opposite end, silently making his way down the line with what you can only assume is a scrutinizing eye, and you fear there's been a mistake that you're here—the other courtesans are all built similarly with small breasts, flattened stomachs and thinner waists than yours, whereas you’re curvier, and have more meat on your bones, with your bigger chest, soft noticeable belly, and grabbable hips. Clearly, he requested a particular type of woman, and it doesn't appear you're it. Staring down at the tiled floor seems better than seeing the disappointment on his face when he gets to you. 

His sandaled feet come into view as he stands before you, and you can feel his eyes roaming over your bare body—golden snake bracelets coil around each of your upper arms, and at the unexpected gentle touch of his fingertips to one, you flinch. 

"Do I frighten you?" His voice is a low, deep rasp that shivers down your spine. 

"No, Sir," you answer.

His thumb strokes over the snake's head and along its body. "Why do you flinch?" 

Raising your head, you see he’s wearing a white tunic with a gold pattern lining around his neck, down his arms, and along the hem, a belt securing it at his waist; golden cuffs covered his wrists. You’re met with dark eyes, a furrow crinkling between his eyebrows—his brown hair with a kiss of gray, curls like waves on his head, his facial hair dotted with a few silvery strands. It takes you a second to answer his question because the glimpses of him you caught during victory parades and the marble bust didn't prepare you for his beauty. 

Mars and Venus have bestowed their blessings upon him. 

“My apologies, Sir,” you finally reply. “It was simply surprise at being graced by your touch.” His expression is difficult to read, so you continue speaking, “I’ve heard of your prowess in battle that inspires songs and how your enemies tremble before you, but I do not believe I have reason to fear you—unless that is something you wish. Do you wish for me to be frightened of you?” 

Some men liked it if you acted afraid of them to feel powerful. Some men, usually the big, tough ones, liked to bury their faces in your bosom while you held them. The slight show of relief on Marcus’ face when you said you had no reason to fear him made you suspect he’d be in the latter category. 

“No.” His eyes are locked onto yours. “I do not need another to fear me. I wish for you to want my touch.” 

“I wish for more than your touch,” you reply. “I wish to feel your lips on mine and your weight on top of me, I wish to feel your cock inside me and to hear the sounds you make when you peak, and I do wish for your touch; I wish to feel your hands claim my body as yours.” 

His gaze turns to one of desire, and it makes you smile. 

"You," he says. "Stay. The rest of you,” he announces, keeping his eyes on yours, “leave us.”

The invitation the messenger brought to your home the day prior did not state who requested your services; it simply said the person was a public figure, and the woman picked would be paid handsomely.

The servants, who stood as still as statues against a wall, scurried to assist each of the other women with redressing.

"Come," he orders, offering you a hand you accept. He leads you to a room you realize is his personal quarters when you spot his armor in a corner, Medusa's golden head on the cuirass shining in the candlelight—she wards off evil and offers protection. There's a bed against the wall opposite the door, and he lets go of your hand, slipping off his sandals by the doorway before walking over to a thin table laden with a jug, cups, and a bowl of berries and grapes. 

"Care for some wine?" he asks without looking at you while pouring himself a cup. 

His body is tense, and you’re assuming you’re here to help him relax—he arrived home only days ago from war, and you got a chance to see him rolling down the street on a chariot as he waved to the cheering masses. It would make sense that he could use somebody with your expertise to get him to unwind. 

“No, thank you, Sir,” you answer, and he faces you again, taking a drink. “It’s a great honor that you chose me, and I do not wish to forget a single moment.” 

His cup lowers, and you're surprised to find he’s wearing a little smile. He twists to set his wine down next to the jug, and removes the cuffs from his wrists, setting them onto the table then his eyes are on yours. 

"Marcus," he says, and it only takes a few strides to have him in front of you again. 

"I'm sorry?" you ask.

His attention moves to your body, and he’s not looking upon you like an object or something he’s just purchased as most men do; his gaze is appreciative, the same kind of look you could imagine was on his face when he stared at art that pleased him. Your figure isn’t the ideal for most Roman women—your hips are too wide, your breasts are too large, your ass is too big, your thighs are too thick, and your stomach is too noticeable—yet, there are many men who sought you out and paid well for your time, and it seems the General is one of them. 

"My name." He walks around you, his fingers sliding along your upper back from shoulder to shoulder. “Call me Marcus. I want you to be familiar with how my name tastes on your tongue.” 

The touch and his words cause your nipples to harden and goosebumps to rise on your skin.

"Marcus,” you say. 

He’s in front of you again, his darkened eyes on yours. His big hands grip your waist, pulling you into him, and he shoves his face into the crook of your neck, feeling him inhale deeply. “Gods, you’re the best thing I’ve smelled in months.” The words are said against your flesh. “Like a meadow of flowers in Spring, and I fail to remember the last time I felt such softness.” He squeezes the fleshy handles at your hips and goes lower to grab handfuls of your ass, then runs his hands up your back. “Upon hearing your description,” he says, “I knew you’d be perfect, but what I imagined has no comparison to seeing your beauty with my own eyes.” His admission catches you off guard as it sounds as though he always intended to pick you from the line of women. It’s curious that he even invited the others if his mind had been set beforehand. He straightens, meeting your gaze. “Take off my clothes.” 

There's no need to reply; you just do as he ordered, getting his belt undone, the leather falling to the floor, then pulling his tunic over his head, it meeting the same fate as his belt. 

He’s completely nude, standing at his full height before you. 

You expected the scars etched all over his body, the evidence that he'd lay down his life for Rome without hesitation. There's a long, jagged one across his right pec, silvered with age, that has you forgetting yourself and softly pressing your fingertips to it.

He snatches your smaller hand, pulling it away from his marred skin. 

"My apologies," you quickly say, bowing your head in submission. "I shouldn't have touched you without permission." 

"You may touch me." Once again, he surprises you by putting the flat of your palm against the scar, his other hand grabbing your chin to lift your face. 

From his reaction to your fingers on him, you think he hasn’t been with a woman in quite some time, and you hope you can make up for all the nights he spent alone. 

It seems he's done with the pleasantries when his lips crush into yours. It's all of the encouragement you need, kissing him back while rubbing your palms up his broad chest, feeling his warmth. You snake a hand down his stomach through the trail of hair low on his belly to take his half-hard cock into your hand—he groans and twitches in your hold.

He truly has the Gods' favor—a talented General, handsome and well-endowed. 

With his hands on your waist, he walks you backward to the bed, laying you on the mattress. He's on top of you, deepening the kiss with his tongue pressing into your mouth, his hand palming your tit, making you wet with arousal and your body heat. 

It's fascinating how he's defying all of your expectations. The men who seek you out after spending months fighting are often rough and brutish, using you however they want to release their tension. There's never kissing or offers of drink; it's orders to suck their cocks, or to get on the bed in their desired position—and here's Marcus kissing down your body, along the skin of your neck to your chest. Most of his weight is on his knees between your legs while bending forward over you, and the only word you can think of to describe it is he's worshipping your breasts. He has them in his hands, moving from one to the other, licking, sucking, and nibbling on your nipples and soft skin, the sensations making your pussy weep with need. 

“Gods, Marcus,” you moan. He has you squirming with how good it feels, your fingers pushing into his curls. He takes a pebbled bud between his teeth and gently tugs. “Oh,” you gasp, your hands tightening in the tousled waves on his head.

He releases your nipple. “Harder,” he rasps, then flicks his tongue against your stiff peak, and you do as requested, pulling his hair harder. A loud groan rumbles from his chest as he continues laving at your tits, skimming his hand down your stomach, your skin tingling under his fingertips, until he’s sliding two fingers through your wet slit. You tighten your hold on his head, your toes curling when he starts rubbing your clit, and the realization hits that he intends for you to have just as much enjoyment as him. 

"Marcus," you whine.

He’s one of those men who has you praying that he’ll wish for your company again, and you wouldn’t even make him pay if you got another chance to warm his bed. 

The push of his thick digit into your pussy makes your breath hitch at the slight stretch, his thumb pressing to your sensitive bundle of nerves, moving side to side—you know he’s going to make you come, and you silently thank the Gods.

His finger is pushing in and out of you, his thumb continuing its movements, and he lifts his face to look you in the eyes, his own are so black there’s hardly a sliver of brown remaining. "Come for me," he commands, slipping a second digit inside you—you’re so wet you can hear the slick slide of his fingers pumping into you. The muscles in your belly are tightening, and the fire in your core is building. "Come for me, sweet girl." His head dips to lightly bite your nipple before soothing it with his tongue. "Once you come, I'll do as you wish and sheath my cock into this perfect cunt." 

The hot heat of his mouth envelops your pebbled bud, and he sucks—it's your undoing; your eyes close as you fall over the edge, coming with a moan of his name. His digits and mouth continue to extend your ecstasy while your chest heaves with labored breaths and your heart pounds. 

He lets go of your nipple with a wet pop, his hand sliding from your pussy, up your stomach, leaving a trail of your release on your skin. His voice deepens, “You’ve done well for me, and I keep my word—turn over.” 

He helps you to roll onto your front, and you get up onto your hands and knees—a familiar position. He takes a moment to admire you in front of him, his palms feeling the thickness of your thighs and hips. His fingers dig into your plump asscheeks as he spreads them and dips his head, hearing and feeling him spit between them, the hot saliva dripping from your asshole down to your opening. He shuffles up behind you, sliding his cock through the wetness of your come and his spit to lubricate himself, then notches it at your entrance—you both moan as he slowly starts feeding himself into you. 

Gods, he’s big. 

There’s a slight burn with how he’s stretching you, your inner walls having to accommodate his ample girth, and once he’s pressed all the way to the root inside you, a breath leaves you that you hadn't realized you'd been holding in. 

He has a tight grip on your waist and pulls out almost all the way, immediately pushing back into you hard enough there's a clap when his hips hit your ass. This was expected, Marcus setting up a rhythm that punches the air from your lungs each time he thrusts forward—he’s working out what he doesn’t wish to feel, and with how slippery it is between your legs, he's moving easily, and the brutal pace feels amazing. 

Many times, you’ve had to fake your enjoyment to make those employing you think they’re talented lovers—the majority are selfish in bed and care little about your comfort but want their egos stroked. Marcus, on the other hand, earned your favor when he took the time to ready you with his fingers and allowed you to climax. 

He's pounding into you, the collide of his body against yours making your asscheeks shake, and with how his cock is pressing into something truly divine, he’s also earned your screams of his name and whatever incoherent words are babbling from your mouth—he has you dizzy with pleasure, heat coiling in your belly, and there’s no doubting the Goddess of Beauty and Sex has given him her blessing. 

Sounds are spilling unbidden from your lips, Marcus loudly grunting with each stroke, the wet slap of skin hitting skin echoing in the room, and you look over your shoulder—the candlelight around the room shows the glisten of sweat on his golden skin. His head is thrown back, his eyes closed, and his jaw slack. Hair is sticking to his forehead, and a beautiful rosy flush has begun on his chest, rising up his neck to paint his cheeks. You can't think of another you've laid with who looked so breathtaking while taking their pleasure, and you could only imagine how glorious he’d look on the battlefield. You don't know what comes over you, reaching your hand back to touch his hip, and suddenly, he’s looking at you, his eyes glazed with lust. 

It’s as though he’s been in a trance, losing himself in your body, and now he’s come back to be in the moment with you. He falls forward, his hands sinking into the mattress on either side of you, blanketing your back and slowing his pace. His chin is on your shoulder, and he bites the shell of your ear; all of his weight goes onto one arm to free up the other that roughly grabs your breast and plucks at your nipple.

“You take me so well,” he says into your ear, his cock continuing to slide in and out of you. “Your sweet little cunt will milk me dry, and then I’ll have you again and again after that to keep you full of my seed.” 

His words steal a moan from your lips. 

“Does that please you, my sweet girl?” he asks. “You wish for more of me? Has another ever fucked you so good?” He gets his hand between your legs to circle the pearl of your pleasure, and your jaw drops, eyes closing—he’s going to make you come again. “Answer me,” he growls, lightly slapping your clit, and you clench around him. 

It’s challenging to think, but you say, “No,” and push your ass back against him as he thrusts forward, fucking yourself on him to get closer and closer to your end. “I’ve never had such fortune.” 

“You do now—by morning, I’ll have you ruined for any other man, and your cunt won’t soon forget the shape of my cock.” 

He means every word that slips from his tongue, and it sets the fire in your belly ablaze. You’re holding yourself up on shaky limbs, the muscles in your stomach knotting up—you’re close.

“Marcus,” you moan. 

His warm breath tickles your ear as he speaks into it: “I love how my name sounds from your lips. I know you’re close. Give in so I can feel you ascend to the heavens.” 

His words, the fullness of his thick shaft moving in and out of you, and his fingers swirling around your sensitive bundle at the apex of your thighs has you shattering—stars burst behind your eyelids as white-hot pleasure erupts in your center, your pussy clamping down on him hard enough he slows to a stop, and groans in your ear.

You exhale panted breaths, your heart beating rapidly, and the blissful euphoria ripples through your body, slowly ebbing away. 

Somehow, you find your voice, "Allow me to ride you." 

He kisses your shoulder, his beard scratching against your bare skin. "You want to mount me?" he asks. 

"Yes."

"Then you shall." 

He pulls out of you, an achy groan leaving him as he lies beside you on his back, and you get up onto your knees. He draws your attention with how he’s splayed out on the mattress, his long legs slightly spread and arms crossed over his head. His cock is still hard, it shiny with your juices, and resting against his lower belly, cushioned by the tantalizing path of hair that led directly to it—and he’s looking up at you, his eyes dark with want that keep lowering to your bosom, and back up to your eye line, the pink of his tongue wetting his bottom lip, that you suddenly wish to bite. 

There’s the common knowledge about Marcus all of Rome is aware of—the family he comes from and the military achievements that have led to him being the victorious General the Gods have blessed the city with, and now you’re versed in his more private attributes—he likes his women to be sturdy with sizeable breasts, he enjoys the pleasurable pain of his hair pulled, he’s a generous lover, he prefers to be in control unless you can tempt him enough to hand over the reins. It’s quite tempting for him to lie back and watch your tits bounce as you ride him. 

Shuffling in place to face him, taking his hard length in hand—he didn’t ask, and you didn’t offer, yet you want to take care of him like he took care of you, so you scoot back enough that you can bend down at the waist, wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock.

The sound of Marcus’ loud moan and the way his back arches as if it were the string of a bow shoots straight to your cunt—you can taste the mix of your essence and his arousal that’s steadily dribbling from the sensitive head that you lick and suckle; your hand easily stroking up and down the sheath of skin on his shaft. The muscles in his thighs and stomach have tensed like it’s taking everything in him to hold back and not fill your mouth with his come.

“Enough,” he grits the order through his teeth, and his palm lands on the side of your ass with a hard slap that echoes against the walls, the sharp sting getting a moan out of you—your head lifts off of him to see he’s scowling. “I’m not spilling down your throat,” he continues and smacks your ass again. “Ride me, or I’ll have you under me.” 

“Apologies, Marcus,” you reply demurely and sit up on your knees once more. Quickly, you move, throwing a leg over his waist to have your thick thighs hugging his hips. You rise, grabbing his cock, you press to your entrance, and you watch his face as you slowly start to impale yourself on him, relishing in how his mouth falls open and the tight grip he has on the meat of your thighs, his fingers digging into them hard enough it bordered on painful. 

The fullness is incredible when you sit flush against him, and you love how he fills you. Your palms find purchase on his broad chest, and you rise until only the tip of him remains inside of you, and you drop back down—the rhythm you set has you moving in his lap, up and down in quick succession, Marcus groaning, his eyes locked on the jiggle of your breasts. 

Sweat forms on your skin, feeling it on your forehead and a single drop sliding down your spine, your eyes closed as you focus, your moans stuttering each time you sink onto him. 

His hands are resting on your backside, rising and falling with you, his voice rough with pleasure, “That’s it, ride me, bounce on my cock.”

This isn’t about you, and though it feels good riding him, your goal is helping him achieve his own high, and you’re determined to do so—your hands leave him to press your tits together, and you gasp in surprise when he sits up and shoves his face into them. Your pace doesn’t waver, and you look at him to see he’s keeping himself up with an arm braced on the bed behind him, the other hand grabbing a handful of your ass, and you know he’s not going to last much longer. 

Your fingers slide into the unruly curls at the back of his head, and you yank them hard to make him look at you, Marcus hissing while his cock twitches inside you. In this position, you’re taller, and he gazes up to meet your eyes. 

“I want you to come,” you pant, continuing to fuck yourself on him. “I want to feel you flood my cunt with your seed.” The noise he makes sounds like a whine. “Then I want you to do it again, and again after that—I want you to fill me to the point I’m brimming with you, and you’re in me for days.” 

He squeezes his eyes shut as he groans out a long, drawn-out Fuck

With his beautiful neck on display, you duck your head and lick up the taut skin of his throat, wishing you could suck a mark into it to remind him of you for a while after you part ways. His free hand roughly grabs your chin to pull you close enough for him to slot his lips against yours, and you have to slow to a grind as he messily kisses you, shoving his tongue into your mouth. 

He breaks away to fall back onto the mattress, his fingers getting a tight grip on your ass, the muscles in his arms flexing as he lifts you enough to start thrusting up into your soaked pussy rapidly—he’s grunting while baring his teeth to chase his high, and all you can do is press your palms to his chest for balance while keeping yourself raised enough for him to pound into you. 

The slick push and pull of him, moving in and out of you, has you chanting his name, and it sounds wet between your legs, hearing the clap of skin on skin of him plowing into you. Perspiration makes his tan flesh glint under the candle's light, his hair is a mess atop his head, and his expression is wild; it’s no surprise when his strokes get uneven and his eyes close. Marcus tugs your ass down to bury himself as far as possible in you as he gives in, coming with a guttural groan—you feel his cock jerk and the wet pulse as he paints your insides with spurts and spurts of his spend, wringing himself out until his body goes completely lax.

He pulls you forward to lie on top of him, wrapping his arms around your middle, and turns you both onto your sides. There’s a hiss that slips from his lips when he removes his softening length from your cunt, and you smile at Marcus sliding down the bed far enough for his face to nuzzle in your bosom while hugging you tight. Your fingers stroke through his sweat-damp curls, his hums of appreciation sounding like the purr of a cat. 

Minutes pass in silence as your breaths even out and your hearts slow. After some time, he says something you can’t make out.

“I’m sorry. I didn’t hear you,” you reply. 

His head lifts, and he kisses under your chin. “Stay,” he says again. 

“I have no intention of leaving. I’m here until you send me away.” 

“And if I don’t wish to send you away?” 

His lips trail along your jaw. 

Your eyebrows pull together. “As I said, I’m here until you request my leave.” 

“And if I never request your leave?” 

He’s kissing your neck now, the question making your eyes round. “You intend for me to be your mistress?” 

It’s not uncommon for a courtesan to become one’s mistress. Some of you are from families of wealth and do this line of work for the powerful connections, while others are freedwomen who’ve worked their way up to earn their notoriety—either case, courtesans are respected and thought to make great mistresses. 

“That is all I can offer since I have no plans to marry,” he answers. “You can stay here with or without me when I’m ordered away, and whatever is left of my salary and spoils of war after the household debts are paid, you may keep.”

He makes you frown. 

“Why me?”

Marcus gets his arm out from under you and scoots up the mattress to look you in the eyes. 

“You’re everything I desire in a woman with your beauty and intellect, and you can sate my needs in bed—you’re perfect, and I want you all to myself. I do not wish to share you with anyone else.”

It’s in this moment you realize you’re the one in control here—you don’t need him, you’re self-sufficient, and there are many who’d eagerly take his place, but your looks are rare in your profession, and he needs his deal to be enticing enough for you to take it. 

“What if I decline your offer?” 

“Then I pray you’ll allow me to keep your company until I receive my next orders.” 

He seems to be a good, honorable man who wants to please you, and he had you tempted to accept on the merit of his skills in bed alone—there’s just something that won’t leave your mind. 

“Before I make my decision, answer this question: if you believe me to be so perfect, why were the others here?” 

He presses his large palm to your cheek. “It was in your power to deny me your company, and though the other women weren’t of my tastes, they were better than nothing.” 

You see no flaws in his answer. 

“I accept your offer on one condition.”

“And that is?”

You no longer find him intimidating, and you’re now comfortable brushing errant hairs off his forehead and sliding your fingers through the curls above his ears. 

Your eyes lock onto his. “You return home to me,” you tell him. “You fight with the might of Mars, and you always return home to me.” 

That earns you a small smile, and he takes your hand into his, kissing the center of your palm. 

“I will, my Dove.” 

Masterlist

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[lovegasmic]

 IT HAS TO BE NOW ?

XIAO, SCARAMOUCHE, KAEYA + FEM!READER

mdni. semi public sx, exhibitionism, degradation ( scara, he's a little shit ) creampies, cockwarming ( kaeya )

to any other person walking around Wangshu Inn, the sight of Xiao with his arms wrapped around his lovely girlfriend at the top balcony of the inn, brought them only fondness over the couple. luckily none of them dared step into the intimate space, or else they would've noticed the young adepti’s pants slightly lower on his hips, blushed face and shaky exhalations from the tight grip of your hot pussy around his cock.

“xiao...” you gasp, clutching onto the wooden railing right behind your hips, roughly pressing into the soft skin of your ass, “they’ll see” yet he doesn't reply, instead pressing you closer to his chest, sliding in a bit deeper into your heat as the man whines loudly on your neck. you can’t deny Xiao looks utterly cute all whiney and fucked out just from the squeeze of your walls around his length, pressing into you with soft, barely noticeable grinds that’s mostly him staining your insides with immense amounts of precum.

“im so close, please... just a bit more” Xiao huffs, pinning your hips against the rail so you have nowhere to move as he starts to buck into you, taking your creamy pussy right where he wants. one of his hands go unnoticed under your drenched panties, which are just roughly pushed aside and catching the drops of slick that pour out of your cunt, adding enough lubrication to your pretty puffy clit. “cum, I need to feel you cum around me” he hisses, almost in pain from how tight your hole sucks on his length, pulling him nice and deep for his cum to spurt into your pussy as you convulse and cum around him, head hanging low in an attempt to hide the pleasured look on your face from any poor unlucky traveler.

“everyone in the Akademiya is so fuckin' stupid” Scaramouche hisses under his breath, followed by a string of curses that you have no idea who he learnt from. the other thing you wonder about is how is he capable of speaking so much while undoing your shirt buttons, roughly tossing it open for his hands to cup your breasts, tugging on the slightly hardened nipple from the outdoors breeze.

“they can go to their dumb explorations alone I don’t know why they would want me there” your boyfriend complains again, pushing you further until your hands press against the rocky stone behind the Akademiya, right where the path ended and a slightly secluded spot appeared from behind a couple of branches.

“are you sure no one comes around here?” you ask ignoring his complaints, which get cut off suddenly before he grunts.

“yeah I'm sure, besides...” Scaramouche smirks to himself, raising your skirt until the fabric bunches on your hips, roughly pushing your underwear down for two of his fingers to slide across your slit, “you’re so wet, this whole thing turns you on, huh? what a slut”

you try to fight back, you really do but your words die in your throat as soon as Scaramouche’s dick presses against your entrance, inching inside so painfully slow you could only whimper, spreading out your legs for his forcefully thrusting inside your pussy, not giving a fuck if anyone could hear his loud throaty groans of pleasure, nor the loud squelching sound of your cunt getting pounded roughly. it takes you an embarrassing short time to cum, being stimulated since hours earlier did the trick but neither you nor Scaramouche could take your sweet time, and the flutter of your walls is enough to make your boyfriend cum as well, humping into your back for every drop of cum to be deep in your pussy.

a soft spank on your ass and he's quick to fix your panties, watching them wetten by the mixture of your slick and his cum, “see you at home” he smirks and leaves a kiss on your lips, at least now, cheerfully walking back into the Akademiya.

“you’re doing amazing, baby, just hold in a little more” Kaeya whispers in your ear, his voice so soothing you could only nod, although unable to resist the urge to squirm in your place, accidentally squeezing harder against the man’s cock slotted deep inside your walls. his arms clutch harder around your waist, forcing you to sit quietly on his lap, the long skirts you wore enough to cover your laps and the lewd action you were participating in at the second floor of Angel’s share.

you whine, soft and breathy, noticing by the corner of your eye, how Kaeya seemed to be a bit too slow in drinking his last glass of wine, swirling the cup between his palm with a soft smirk always present on your lover’s face. his name comes out of your mouth almost in a beg, to which he replies with a chuckle, “what is it, darling? you’ve been so good so far, I know you can just wait a bit more, can you?” he whispers sultry, bouncing his leg so you choke out on a moan at the sensation of his cock caressing your insides.

“y-yeah, I can” you mutter.

“that’s my good girl” your boyfriend praises in a melodic tone, leaving a soft kiss on your neck before his free hand slides under your skirt, rubbing on your bare puffy clit until your walls quiver around his cock, ripping a groan out of his lips and a follow up praise. “i wish for nothing else than bending and fucking you right here” he sighs, deep and full of lust as you hiccup in need, “but we can’t leave just yet, that’d be a pity” Kaeya mocks, continuing his assault on your clit as his uncovered eye glimmers with amusement, adoring how your forehead rests against the table, eyes closed shut and whines coming out freely out of your mouth. he just needs to see you cum, to make a mess around his cock with a broken sob and nails digging in the wood of the bench for plenty of people to wonder what were those marks made from.

[simonrileysfavteacup]

It's dark. Silent. Empty.

It's cold. Heavy. Empty.

And Simon's there. He doesn't know where he is. It smells horrible. But it all feels so familiar. It feels like his been here before.

It’s all so quiet and sad. It's dark. Too dark. He can't feel anything. It’s all so empty. He thinks he's alone. He hopes he is.

Then he finally feels something. Something over his head. He's laying down, there's something bumpy under him. A wall over his body. And something in his hand. He raises it to his eyes to see the object.

A skull. 

He’s in a coffin…

He wakes up in a sweat, sitting up as he pants. The heavy breathing fills the room as he throws the blankets off himself.

He hears shuffling next to him, his eyes on your barely covered figure. One of your hands reaches out, pulling him back into his laying position. He doesn’t budge. His eyes dart to the hand on his bicep. He flinches away, staring at you with wide eyes as you properly wake up.

“It’s just me honey... what's wrong?" You cup his cheeks and thankfully, he doesn’t flinch away from your touch. 

His eyes dart around the room, his body still trembling. “Coffin…” he mouths, pulling away from you. 

Oh.

You know about Simon’s nightmares better than anyone else, having shared a bed with him for 2 years. His past torments him the most. He has nightmares about his family, the betrayal, the murders he’s committed in his line, and so much more. It scares you too, especially when you see the look on his face after he wakes up.

"You're okay... It's just me here. Just me," You smile at him. Pulling his face to yours to press your forehead to his. “Deep breath, honey…”

He takes in a long breath. His hands reach up to clutch yours on his face. His body finally stops trembling. 

“Mhm, that’s it. Just like that, okay? Calm…” 

His eyes meet yours for the first time. He pulls you closer until you’re practically on his lap. He shoves his head into your cleavage. You let him curl into you, stroking the back of his head. 

“Honey…? I need you to talk to me. I need to know you’re okay,” you gently tug on one of his longer strands of hair to get his attention.

“Fine…jus’ need…a minu’e…” he whispers. 

You smile, kissing the crown of his head. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

You feel him shake his head. He tucks himself further into you. 

“Si…you can tell me anything, you know? I won’t judge you or tell anyone. It’s better just to get things off your chest,” you nudge his back with your elbow. 

“Was i’ the grave…” his voice is barely audible.

Oh. 

Oh.

“Si…” you cradle his head as he pulls back from you. “I’m sorry.”

“No’ ya faul’,” he drags a hand down his face. He pushes you to lie back down, lying on top of you. “Sleep, lovie. Jus’ wanna hold ya…” 

“You can hold me. I…do you want tea?” 

His head snaps up. “Ya’d make me tea?”

“I’d make you every dish you love if you asked,” you smile.

“Jus’ tea, please…” 

“You kinda have to let me go if you want it. I can’t fly to the kitchen with you holding me.”

“Fly.”

[vanteguccir]

── ୨୧ !　𝗦𝗟𝗘𝗘𝗣𝗜𝗡𝗚 𝗣𝗥𝗔𝗡𝗞

　　　　　　　　　𝒄𝒉𝒓𝒊𝒔 𝒔𝒕𝒖𝒓𝒏𝒊𝒐𝒍𝒐 x reader

SUMMARY: Where Nick pranks Chris and Y/N while they are sleeping.

WARNING: None.

AUTHOR'S NOTE: That is my work, I DON'T authorize any plagiarism! | English isn't my first language, so I'm sorry if there's any grammar error.

　　　༻✦༺ 　༻✧༺　༻✦༺

Nick walked towards the double bed closest to the hotel room's door, their vlogging camera in his right hand, while his left hand held a bottle of lemonade.

He slowly approached, raising the camera so that the lens caught what was on top of it, or rather, who. Y/N and Chris were still fast asleep, both covered by the fluffy white blanket.

The girl was lying on the left side, that is, closer to Nick. Her head was lying on Chris's right arm, using it as her personal pillow, while the boy's left arm was around her shoulders covered by one of his t-shirts.

The only visible parts of the couple were their heads - which were practically on top of each other - and Chris's bare shoulders and arms that were slightly shivering from the Texas cold. Unfortunately, the room's heater didn't seem to be able to combat the coldness completely.

Nick couldn't see, but he was sure their legs were tangled under the blanket. He joked that when they slept together, they seemed to melt into each other with how close they were.

As the oldest triplet got closer to the bed, the camera was able to capture the small snores that came out of Chris's half-open mouth and the soft sighs that escaped Y/N's nose, both sounding like a lullaby to each other.

Nick pressed his lips into a thin line, trying to contain his laughter as he anticipated the couple's reaction. He loved playing pranks on them both, especially when they were sleeping.

"Chris, do you want a sip? Y/N?" Nick's voice sounded low behind the camera as the lens captured him, raising his left arm, the bottle entering the frame, bringing it closer to the couple's faces.

Chris, being a light sleeper, woke up seconds after. He lifted his head slightly as he tightened his arms around Y/N, pulling her closer - if that was even possible.

That movement woke up Y/N, or almost. The girl opened her eyes slightly, keeping them in a thin line, exhaling through her nose before closing them again, seeming not to register Nick in front of her.

"Hmm?" The questioning sound escaped Chris's throat. He turned his head from side to side slowly, trying to understand what was happening, his messy hair falling into his eyes.

"Do you want a sip? I think Y/N must be thirsty, too." Nick continued, his cheeks turning red from the effort he was doing while trying not to laugh.

"What, Nick?" Chris's voice sounded for the first time, the hoarseness making his words almost intelligible. The sound made Y/N open her eyes again, this time a little wider.

She lifted her hands, which were previously under the blanket, and brought them to Chris' ones in front of her body, intertwining them, shivering at the contact of her hot skin with her boyfriend's cold one. A sound of discomfort left her lips as she finally noticed Nick in front of her, holding what looked like a bottle. She quickly closed her eyes again, feeling too tired for whatever that was that Nick wanted.

"It's lemonade. Do you guys want a sip or not?" Nick prevailed, moving the bottle closer to their faces.

"If you drop that on me... I'll kill you." This time, it was Y/N's voice that sounded, equally hoarse and tired from the previous day's filming with Sam and Colby. She only opened one eye this time, looking at Nick but not really being able to focus on him, her vision blurred by sleep.

"It's lemonade." The standing boy spoke again, letting out a low, almost imperceptible laugh. He knew he would get yelled at when the couple actually woke up.

"Are you fucking stupid?" Chris responded, stretching for a few seconds without letting go of Y/N's hand, pulling her closer against his bare chest and burying his head in the crook of his girl's neck, exhaling the natural scent of her skin.

"Go away, Nick." Y/N spoke again, finally closing her eyes completely with the comfort of her boyfriend's body heat against her own, a happy sigh scaping her mouth.

They both fell asleep again within seconds, as if nothing had happened.

　　　　　༻﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡﹡༺

extra - comments:

"the way they sleep so close together, being all cuddly and everything 🥺"

"Chris and Y/N are such couple goals"

"I've never seen a cozier bed in my life 😫"

"dear Santa Claus ✏️📄"

"I want a boyfriend who cuddle me while we sleep like I'm going to run away at any minute 😭"

"Nick is a real pest LMAO"

"Nick holding himself back from laughing behind the camera 😭"

"Chris and Y/N's sleepy voice 😔"

[calumfmu]

tell me its a bit

"Steve, can I ask you something? What are we doing?"

He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth. "Uhh.. sex?"

He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given.

or; the extended version of Baby, No Attachment: Steve continues to reveal his true self to you.

cw: 18+, mdni, soft!Stevie, smut, teasing, spanking (brief), fingering, unprotected sex, p in v, wrap it up kids, cream pie, hair pulling, slight choking kink if you squint, yada yada yaddaaaa (2.8k+ words)

The Steve you had become so accustomed to had been different in the last few weeks since that car ride. Treating you with grace and kindness, he tended to your needs no matter what they were. It had taken some time getting used to, always feeling like he was lying about something despite giving you no reason to believe so. His act had shaped up, him treating you like the princess he had once called you, not hesitating to leap whenever you said jump.

He loved the cat and mouse game you had once started, not choosing to end it despite him being yours and you being his, despite titles given. Still sneaking into your bedroom window at all hours of the day, throwing rocks at the glass, throwing himself at you in the back of his BMW whenever he had the chance, no matter the welcoming arms your mom held for him (she was still his favorite). It made you feel like a young preteen again, the excitement of this romance pulling at your heartstrings in every possible good way there was.

The window was open, blowing in cold air as late winter made its final claim in Hawkins. Bedroom curtains were bunched up at the windowsill, caught up from where he had fallen through, shoes kicked off at the bottom. His jacket was thrown somewhere on the floor, half draped over the radio that softly played George Michael in the background. He had insisted on turning it on, whispering ‘We’re gonna get caught’ despite you urging ‘My mom loves you, shut up’. It didn’t stop him, silent moans filling the air as he touched you, your bodies so familiar with one another.

You were pressed into the mattress, both mouths slotted together as one of his hands snaked at your chest, slowly unbuttoning your top as he half-laid on you. His bulge ground into your thigh, small gasps escaping his mouth as you tugged at his hair.

Pulling away slightly, you mumbled into his mouth, “Steve, can—can I ask you something?”

He barely nodded, moving his weight over you to push you further into the bed. The hand at your chest moved to caress your hip, fingers splayed wide across the skin.

“What are we doing?”

He pulled away fully to look at you, brows knitted together in confusion as his eyes went back and forth between your eyes and mouth.

“Uhh… sex?” He laughed, leaning into you to return to his previous position. You stopped him with a touch to his chest. He looked even more confused than he did previously, shaking his head at you.

“No, Steve,” you sighed, slightly rolling your eyes at his comment. One thing you learned about him was that the boy loved playing dumb, especially when it came to actually discussing important things. “Like what are we?”

Realization crossed his face as his eyebrows shot up, an ‘O’ formed between his lips. The look went away as quickly as it appeared, a smirk given to you.

“You’re my girl, right?” He returned his mouth to yours, moving his hand lower to run across your inner thigh. Frustrated, you pushed him completely off of you, noticing the way he just looked so shocked at your fast movement.

He remained silent as you sat up, turning your body to look at him as he was laid on the bed, stuck in the position that he fell in. His hair tussled over his face, eyebrows raised and hands slightly up as he seemed to be awaiting your next move.

“Are you serious?” Your voice was raised, anger between your eyes as you looked down at him. He seemed small in the moment, a red blush crossing his cheeks.

“Do you not want to be?”

“No, Ste—” you cut yourself off with a sigh as you pinched your nose bridge, pulling your knees to your chest. You searched for the patience to deal with him, not understanding why he didn’t get it. “Steve. That’s not what I mean.”

“Well… what do you mean? I thought we were, like, together,” he asked, voice small compared to yours as he slowly sat up. He raised to lean on one hand, the other being placed on your knee, rubbing the skin.

You shot your eyes open to look at him, a loud cackle thrown at him that caused his face to fall. You felt bad to laugh at him, realizing that this ‘King Steve’ who had fallen from grace had so much to learn about girls, despite revolving his life around them.

“Together?” He pulled away from you, moving to sit at the end of the bed with his back turned to you. You saw him lean over on his knees, heard him clear his throat in discomfort. “Babe…”

He ignored the nickname as you moved to perch behind him, pulling him so his back was pressed to your chest, your head resting at his shoulder. Wrapping your arms around him, you felt him relax into the embrace, head tilting onto yours. With your legs on opposite sides of his hips, you leaned into him, the size difference between the two of you causing you to melt.

“Babe… we’re not together because… you never asked me,” you whispered, pressing kisses to his cheek in the pauses of your words. His head turned to look at you, shock the only emotion you could decipher.

“I never asked you?”

“No, dummy,” you giggled, pressing kisses to his cheek and jawline interchangeably. He fucking giggled at the touches of your lips on his skin, tilted his head to try to ‘avoid’ them, yet he made no other effort to move—you knew he loved it.

“Well, do you want to be my girl th—my girlfriend then?” He asked you, looking at you through long lashes, blinking slow as he became shy. You pressed your lips together, shaking your head, laughing as his mouth dropped open at you.

“No?” His voice raised a pitch, suddenly moving so you fell into his arms with a loud laugh. Steve pressed kisses to your nose this time, nuzzling his face into yours as he held you.

“That’s not going to cut it, Harrington.” His last name fell from your lips in a faux-mock, you haven’t muttered his last name since the two of you made amends, if you wanted to call it that—really it actually was just the two of you fucking for the first time in the back of his car. It felt foreign to you, cheesy nicknames shared behind closed doors and whiny drawls of each other's names replacing it.

He paused for a moment, face inches away from your own as he studied you. Drawing your eyes over his features, you took note of the moles dotting his face, constellations drawn in the beauty marks that you loved to trace your fingers over. Steve Harrington was a beauty, a wonder that you felt so grateful to have between your fingertips. Words couldn’t describe the feelings you had bubbling in your chest for him, he was everything and more you had thought him to be.

His breath hit your face with a flutter of your eyes closed, enjoying the bliss of being in his arms.

“You’re going to make me work for it, princess?” The nickname he used to call you had you shivering, arousal pooling between your thighs. His voice dropped an octave, a chill through your spine at the lowness.

“Mhmm,” you mumbled, digging your teeth into your bottom lip as he leaned into you, pressing a kiss to your mouth.

“I can do that,” he whispered back, deepening the kiss as he maneuvered the two of you to the previous position you held, you on your back, legs sprawled with him in between. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling at it as he ground down into you.

“What else are you going to make me work for?”

One of his hands trailed down the length of your abdomen, fingertips dancing over your stomach before settling at your groin. Your legs widened without a second thought, hips arching onto the touch. He began to work a small circle over your clothed clit, the material dampening as your wetness deepened.

“Ah—” your voice cut off as you tried to respond to him, his fingers working magic as you began to fall apart.

“Not so much to say now, yeah?” He laughed at you, mouthing at your neck as a breathy sigh escaped you. As much as you hated to admit it, you loved this side of him, the cockiness that once was returning to your lover boy, dominating the situation as he made you melt.

“Shut it, Harrington.”

The only words you were able to mutter before he took over, filling up your senses with his body against yours. He was overwhelming, crowding your brain with thoughts of him, thoughts of his touch, his everything. His fingers began to creep lower, pushing your panties to the side as he ran a finger over your slit.

He leaned up to nip at your ear, teeth digging at the lobe of skin, your neck craning to the side as you exhaled in pleasure.

"Not quite sure I like that name anymore," he whispered against your skin, tongue darting out to lick at the skin beneath your ear. He exhaled against you, the coolness of his breath sending shivers down your spine.

"You-"

You couldn't speak as he began to tease you, finger inching into you slightly, just for him to remove it, reaching up to toy with your clit ever-so-slightly.

"I?" He dragged out the letter, leaning back to smirk down at you as he questioned what you were going to say. Irritation crossed your features as you took him in between hooded eyes, lids fluttering shut as he took his teasing to a new level.

His hand left your underwear, grasping your hand between his as he grinded against you. His clothed crotch rubbed between your legs, an exasperated sigh leaving you.

"Steve."

Your tone was firm this time, chastising him as he pushed your leg up with his own. Your free hand reached down to grab at the top of his jeans, fingertips dancing over the button there.

"Yes, princess?" His breath grew a little more shallow, his head dipping to watch your fingers slowly unbutton his jeans, the zip sliding down audibly in the room. His bulge poked out of his jeans, boxers tenting towards you.

"Cut the act."

With a nod, it was over—his mouth was pressed into yours, and his hands were pushing down his jeans, boxers following suit. His cock sprang free of its restraint, beat red and dripping with arousal. In the heat of the moment, you were flipped over, ass sticking straight into the air with your underwear pulled down mid thigh.

It was just enough freedom of the two of your sexes to make ends meet, the head of his cock nudging between your legs, pressing at your entrance. He had his fingers tangled in your hair, yanking your head back as he entered you in a swift motion, pressing to the hilt.

The two of you groaned in unison, hips flush to one another with Steve taking a break to breath, his head pushed towards the ceiling.

"Fuck, you're so—"

He cut himself off, a hard smack filling the air as his hand made contact with the plump skin of your ass. You pushed your hips back at the assault to your ass, groaning as he pressed even deeper.

"You're going to fucking kill me, princess."

He began to thrust into you, hips rutting into your own. It was quick, thrusts relentless and brutal as he fucked into you. Your hands tried gripping at the sheets around you, failing as the movements had you faltering, body rocking in unison with his own.

His name left your mouth in high pitched whines, eyes fluttering shut with the pleasure that overcame your senses.

"Ste-Steve, fuc-"

You could barely get a word out as he continued rutting into you, his hand gripping your hair tightly, the other running over the skin of your back, reaching down to rub at your lower back, rearing back to smack down into your cheek. The loud sounds of your sex and the smacking of his hand filled the room, becoming louder with each thrust.

You tried shushing him, worried that the sounds would be able to be heard from downstairs. The last thing you needed was your mom coming up the stairs, opening the door to find her sweet daughter in this compromising position.

He leaned over you, pressing your hips into the mattress as he continued fucking into you, grinding his hips in small motions. The atmosphere of the room changed, love filling the air as his hand left your hair, reaching around and down under to grip at your neck. Your neck craned back as he pulled you into him, back to chest.

Steve's breath was hot in your ear, small grunts leaving him.

"Is this what you wanted?" He asked, tone of his voice gruff with arousal.

You attempted to nod, eyes squeezing shut and sweat prickling at your hairline from the heat of the moment. He reached down underneath you to rub at your clit, the bundle of nerves growing more sensitive as the two of you were brought closer to completion.

"Making me work for it—you're such a tease, princess."

The nickname had you whimpering, memories of your prior relationship flooding back. That first night spent together filling your mind, overcoming the small amount of senses that you had left.

A high pitched uhh left you, breath caught in your throat as his grip tightened, hips grinding down into you even further. He couldn't get any deeper, reaching that spot inside of you that was only reserved for him.

"'S not enough, Harrington."

You were insistent on teasing him, eyebrows knitted together, eyes squeezed shut. He quickened his pace, pulling out almost completely just to thrust back into you.

His fingers at your clit sped up, he sensed how close you were solely on how your body tensed up.

"Come on, princess. I know y—"

His hand covered your mouth as you came, drowning out the loud whine that escaped you. He knew your body so well, knew exactly when to stop torturing your clit, when to slow his thrusts so you wouldn't become overwhelmed. Steve's own pleasurable end reached him, a low groan suppressed by pressing his face between your shoulder blades as he came deep inside you.

"Ah, fuck, princess, I lov-"

He cut himself off, another moan escaping him as he bottomed out before pulling out, collapsing on the bed next to you. You took a few moments in silence, catching your breath before turning to face him, blinking slow as you took him in.

Fingers reaching to you, he pulled you closer to him, pulling up the blanket that was pushed to your feet in the same motion. It was so domestic, this moment, your favorite side of Steve making an appearance that was slowly becoming the main event of your relationship.

He lay beside you, leaning on one elbow and hip, his fingers running over the expanse of your skin. You were starstruck in his beauty, the way his hair fell over his eyes, the slight glimmer of sweat sticking to his skin, moles dotting his body even in places the sun couldn't reach. And he was all yours, even if he was being stubborn, being Steve about it.

"You know I loved you the entire time?" He suddenly said, low in tone as he stared you down. Eyes leaving his body, you looked into his deep brown, shock evident on your face.

"I-you what?"

It was the first time these words left his mouth. You knew how you felt, but it was shocking to hear it from him.

"Since the day I saw you, I loved you. Love you," he confirmed, finger running up his body to run against your breastbone. He hovered over your heart, mimicking the shape of one over the skin.

"So... you were being an asshole just for fun?" You teased, turning on your side to lean into his space. Being in his proximity brought you a comfort that should have scared you, but definitely didn't.

He smirked at you, wiggling his eyebrows as he recalled the memories of your early relationship.

"How else was I supposed to make you fall for me?"

Your mouth dropped open in faux shock, your hand reaching up to slap at his chest. A guffaw left him as he grimaced at the red mark forming.

Rubbing at the spot, he whined your name. "Well it worked, didn't it?"

You rolled your eyes playfully, pretending to turn up your face at him. Turning on your side away from him, you closed your eyes, ushering sleep.

"You're such an asshole, Harrington."

You felt his arm snake around you, pulling you into his chest, both of your naked bodies pressed against each other. Instantly, you melted in his arms, your own hand coming up to grip at him.

"I love you too, princess."

Ah jeez, here it is. I love this pairing so much, I never want to part ways with them. part three.

Masterlist. <3