#it starts with the face shape. trying to place the cheek curve while knowing that it'll be covered by the nose and mustache anyway

[salemrph]

Sleepy morning with Sylus

A/N: While I was reading some other posts yesterday, I came across a user asking what it would be like to wake up next to Sylus. My imagination jumped on it right away! I would say this is more of a headcanon than a fanfic. I focused more how he would experience it. Short write, just because I'm working on other stuff.

Character: Sylus & Reader/MC/you

Genre: romantic, fluffy

Word count: 1,430 | Reading Time: 5 min | AO3

Background music

Your laughter echoes through his bedroom as you try to break free from his grip, his breath tickling your skin. His arms are wrapped tightly around you, pressing himself against your naked body. You smell incredible, so intoxicatingly good that waking up next to you must be heaven on earth.

You squirm and kick, already in tears from laughing so hard. He can't get enough of that sound, of the way you smile, the way you close your eyes and lean your head back. Your presence is like a flowerbed in full bloom, vibrant and breathtaking. Blooming in its full splendor.

Whenever he can, he admires you. When you sleep, he counts the moles on your body, tracing them with his fingertips. He caresses the scars you've earned as a fierce Hunter, kissing every natural fold of your skin. His touch follows the curve of your back, the delicate shape of your ass, down to your legs. The same legs that always wrap around him in the intensity of passion.

He loves you, more than he could ever show to you. It wouldn't be enough, ever.

"Sylus—"  you gasp between laughs, struggling against him as your muscles start to cramp.

"You have so much energy, kitten" you keep laughing, you are so ticklish this morning. His nose brushes against your neck before he nips at your skin, placing lazy kisses along your shoulder.

You squirm even more, still breathless from laughter. "I will pee myself... Stop!"

He hums against your skin, only tightening his hold. He isn't really awake, he wants to keep sleeping, enjoying the peaceful morning with you. Sylus has worked hard to clear his schedule, to be with you like this. To adapt to your routine, make breakfast, and simply enjoy a normal day at your side.

"Then pee..."  he teases. 

"Gross! Let go." You protest, thoroughly disgusted by his suggestion.

"Not even in dreams, sweetie" he chuckles while still kissing your shoulder.

"Sy..." you whine. That tone, the way you try to get your way putting that face, that tone in your voice. The one that makes his heart melt no matter how much he tries to resist. He growls, reluctant to release you completely. His grip tightening for a moment before he finally exhales and relaxes.

"Go. You have 2 minutes to come back". 

You waste no time jumping out of bed, only to earn a slap on your ass.

"Hey!" You spin around, shooting him a glare. Sylus only smirks.

"I like how it wiggles"

You disappear in the bathroom. Sylus shifts onto his back, crossing both arms behind his head, staring at the ceiling with a rare sense of peace. Yeah… he could get used to this. No, he wants to get used to this. The wealth he possesses and everything he has done has been nothing more than a way to ensure your safety. The years he spent searching for you taught him that he had to be prepared for anything. Losing you again was not in his plans. And if the day ever comes when you no longer love him, it won’t change a thing. He would still protect you, even from the shadows.

He’s so lost in thought that he doesn’t notice you sneaking back into bed. Carefully, you inch closer, suppressing a grin as you reach out to poke his cheek. But before you can even make contact, his hand shoots out, catching your wrist in a firm grip.

"Feeling playful this morning, my love?"

"Just a bit" you smirk. Sylus laughed.

"What do you want to play?" You tilt your head, pausing deliberately as your eyes drift over his bare chest, trailing down to his toned abs. The sheets rest low on his hips, and the way you’re looking at him doesn’t go unnoticed. He knows that look.

With effortless ease, he shifts, pulling you toward him until you land on top of his body.

His fingers brush a stray strand of hair from your face, his touch lingering. The color of your lips is already beautiful, but he loves it even more when they darken after passionate kisses. His lips part slightly, his gaze locked onto yours, mesmerized by the infinite depth of your shining eyes.

You lean in, pressing tender kisses across his face before finally finding his lips. Your entire body relaxes, melting into him. Savoring the slow movement of your mouth. Heat growing in your body. Between you two. The kiss deepens bit by bit, his tongue tracing your lips, later moving beyond, slipping inside, tasting you. You sigh into him, already lost in the spreading feelings of longing.

His hand has already trapped you. One sitting on your back, the other on your ass, keeping you close. He is getting harder by the second. His need for you is growing. The steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath your fingertips grounding you in the moment. There is no rush, no urgency. You have the complete morning and day to melt in each other.

When he finally pulls away, just enough to rest his forehead against yours, his breath is warm against your lips. His eyes flutter shut for a moment as he exhales deeply. This is a dream, he thinks. A damn good dream. And he has no intention of waking up.

One hand moves to cup your cheek, his thumb brushing tenderly over your skin. He doesn’t need to speak; everything he feels is in the way he looks at you, in the way he holds you like you’re something precious. You cover his hand with yours, pressing your cheek into his palm. A faint smile tugs at his lips before he kisses you again.

Sylus takes his time, enjoying how your body reacts to him, the quiet gasps, the way your fingers tangle in his hair. His name escapes your lips in a breathless whisper. He watches you with a quiet intensity, taking in the way you melt under his touch. The space between you disappears, lost in the unhurried way he moves. Once more, your worlds merge, your bodies speaking a language only the two of you understand.

That's how you start the morning: with him, with you, with nothing beyond these four walls mattering. Just the warmth of his skin, the rhythm of your hearts, and the love that neither of you needs to put into words.

----

Go to MASTERLIST

[deadhands69]

OKAY PLLLLLLS giving bakugo his first ever bj. He’s so nervous but excited. He’s 22 and is finally ready to let himself feel something other than anger and frustration, and he’s letting you give him so much pleasure.

Okay!

MDNI

Katsuki Bakugo is terrified. He knows he shouldn’t be, all of his friends have done it before and talk about getting blowjobs nonstop. But still, as he looks down at you hovering above the zipper of his pants, he can't help it if his hands are shaking and sweating. What if it’s a weird shape and he has no clue until you’re that close? Or maybe he will cum before you even put it in your mouth and then you’ll tell everyone. Worse, what if he tastes bad?

Ironically, his anxiety is what got him into this mess in the first place. Everyone kept saying he needs to relax. Making jokes about how if only he got his dick sucked maybe he wouldn’t be so this *gesturing at all of him.* Eventually, you realized there may actually be some truth to that and took it upon yourself to help him out. 

So, when you asked if you could give him a blowjob - of course he said yes. A million times yes. Under the stress of it all, he really wants it too. He hasn't said it out loud, but he's been looking forward to doing this with you all week. It's all he's been able to think about. And when you say you'll make him feel good, he trusts you.

“Okay, let’s just - let’s just get this over with,” he stutters, unsure of how to properly convey the mix of feelings he has. Fortunately, you're used to reading through his roughness.

You pull down his pants and underwear, revealing an absolutely gorgeous dick. It’s apparent he showered and tried to clean up the hair around it to be presentable, but it goes way beyond that. The slight curve, perfect shape, and rosy tip are beautiful.

You’ve been staring too long and he's starting to look uncomfortable; you pull yourself back to reality.

"So pretty," you murmur, trailing a finger along the vein running down his length.

His fists are clenched around the bunched up sheets near his hips. In some combination of nervousness and excitement (they're nearly the same feeling, he's finding) you can tell he’s trying hard to control his breathing. Under the tenseness, you can still tell he's ecstatic this is happening. It's the way he looks at you. How he got hard the moment you walked into the room. The way his painfully hard dick twitches at your lightest touch.

When you lick him from base to tip, he swears everything else in the world disappears. Melting like he's ice cream and you're a hot summer day. Nothing else could possibly matter when your mouth feels like that. This is what everyone was talking about? Nothing anyone told him prior to this did any justice to how amazing this feels.

You take him fully into your mouth, hollowing your cheeks as you slide up and down. One of your hands cups his balls while the other grips his base, holding him in place.

Involuntarily, he whimpers at your touch. His deathgrip on the bed lessens. He runs his fingers through your hair, moving it out of your face to watch. Your eyes meet his as you stare up at him; it’s the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen.

He gasps as you pull back, swirling your tongue around his tip.

"You feel so fucking good," he moans at you. Hips jerking up, searching for any amount of friction he can find.

Normally, he hates messes but he’ll make a massive exception for this. Who would have known that seeing your spit dripping down his cock would be so hot?

He doesn’t last long, which you take as a compliment. 

“Fuck, bout to cum,” he warns, assuming you’ll want to stop.

Rather than move out of the way, you continue what you’re doing. Taking him deeper into your mouth before he blows his load into the back of your throat. He sits up, doubling over to wrap his arms around you as much as he can. As far as he can remember, that’s the hardest he’s ever cum. Although, admittedly, he can’t remember much right now.

Pulling you up with him, he lays back on the bed. Kissing your swollen lips, he can taste himself on you.

And he’ll never be able to look at your perfect mouth the same way again.

[swordsandholly]

Cherry Bomb - tattoo parlor anthology

MDNI | poly 141 x fem fat reader | masterlist

Part 7: Firsts

Kyle bought you lunch before your set time. To make sure you ate, he said. He still asked about five times if you felt like you ate enough or needed water even after sitting across from you while you downed a to-go container of pad se ew and your fourth ounce bottle.

You just laugh and point to a piece on your knee. “Babes I got this with nothing but a trenta iced coffee and two hours of sleep in my system. I’m fine, I promise.”

John made a baffled noise at that. Kyle looked like he was going to throw up. That look remained as he went through the process of setting up in John’s studio room. Kyle is meticulous about it. Each step done with care. You feel a bit silly sitting around and twiddling your thumbs.

“Just breathe. It’s fine.” John murmurs in a low rumble that somehow has you relaxing more than the indented party.

“It’s almost more scary doing someone I know.” Kyle huffs.

You laugh. “Can’t be worse than the blown out piece of shit on my left arm. C’mon, I’ve seen what you can do. You’ve got this.”

John nods, sitting on the other side of you.

“Besides, even if it sucks I’ll still be honored to be your first real apprentice tattoo.” You pipe up.

Kyle chuckles, low and unsure. Part of you wants to give him an out, to say he doesn’t have to, but you can see the set of his jaw even as his eyes flick between his supplies and the stencil in his hand nervously. He’s determined as much as he is scared. There’s no getting him out of that headspace until he’s done.

You chose something easy. One of Kyle’s more dainty, simple flash designs for the back of your thigh, just below the curve of your ass. A little bow with minimal shading. Something he’s practiced a thousand times and an easy enough starting point. Plus, you already mentioned having him do a matching one on the other side when he’s ready for it. Easy practice.

“C’mon, at least get the stencil on before you have a panic attack.” You try to keep your voice light, turning your back to him.

Kyle sighs. You hear his stool roll forward as he scoots in close to place it. John shuffles around to stand over him. A nasty part of your brain complains about exposing your cellulite to these two fit men but you push that deep down into nothing. A second, more embarrassing part wonders if you should have chose a more appropriate spot… that maybe you shouldn’t be standing in front of your boss and coworker in teeny-tiny biker shorts that barely cover you. You shove that down right next to the other mean thoughts.

You pointedly ignore the heat that shoots up your spine as Kyle’s hands feel out the shape of your thigh to get it centered - keeping your eyes forward as he slowly presses the paper against you. You could swear a thumb traces the curve of your cheek as he smoothes it but that’s probably just wishful thinking.

“Good job, kid.” John claps a hand on Kyle’s shoulder as soon as the paper is pulled away. You turn around in the mirror to check it, expecting to probably have to move it, but from what you can tell it really is perfect.

“Damn, dude, on your first try!” You grin, clapping happily.

Kyle nods stiffly, but you see the way the corner of his mouth quirks up. You unceremoniously clamber onto the table, moving around so your back doesn’t hurt from laying flat for the next few hours with your arms folded under your head.

“Hey.” You whisper while John steps away to grab something. “Get through this without freaking out and I’ll give you a reward.”

“A reward?” He tilts his head, smile turning from an nervous curl of his lip to a boyish grin.

You jokingly bat your lashes. “I’ll give you a kiss.”

Kyle chuckles. “With tongue?”

You gawk, face hot. “Mr. Garrick! Where’d my knight in shining armor go?”

“Just tryin’ t’ figure out exactly what I’m workin’ toward.”

You hum, pretending to mull it over. “We’ll see. Depends on how well you do.”

Kyle levels a look at you, something heated as his lip catches between his teeth. It’s only there for a moment, gone as soon as he turns to his tools. Replaced by a laser focus.

“Alright.” John settles back into his seat on your other side. “Let’s do one line and then see how we all feel.”

Kyle nods. You shuffle a little to make you’re you’re as comfortable as possible for the next however long. You know it’s going to be a while even if it isn’t a simple design. He’s new and precise with means slow.

The familiar whirr of the gun starts up. You shut your eyes, waiting, hoping that you aren’t projecting any more tension into the room than Kyle is. The needle stings when it finally touches you, but not as badly as you braced for. His touch is light.

He pulls the gun away and let’s put a giant sigh. “How y’feel, luv?”

“Hm? Oh, I’m all good. You?” You tilt your chin a bit to meet his eye.

“Better now that it’s started.”

“Good.” John nods, chest bumping your leg as he leans forward to look. “Looks good. Keep on.”

The room is nearly silent as he works. You turned down the music before coming back so he wouldn’t get overwhelmed - at least that was your reasoning. You’d get overwhelmed. Kyle is more levelheaded than you are, though.

“Thassit.” John smiles - or at least that’s how it sounds in his voice. “Her skin takes ink so well, yeah?”

Fuck, that totally should not do it for you. Gravelly voiced British bastard. You keep your eyes locked onto the flash on the far wall as you attempt to cool down.

Kyle just hums, seemingly unable to talk as he concentrates. He probably is with how dialed in he looks. You take a break before he gets to shading, stretching and getting some water. It takes a while, but not as long as you assumed. You start to get that ache in your skin partway through the shading - that feeling when your nerves are so tired from firing off pain receptors they just all sort of start burning dully.

However long later Kyle pulls away. “I… think it’s done?”

“You think?” John challenges.

Kyle sighs before speaking with more finality. “It’s done.”

There’s a few beats where John assess and you hold your breath. He points to a couple spots where Kyle’s hand slipped a bit or he applied too much pressure, but when you check it out in the mirror yourself you don’t see that all. Perfectionists.

You can’t help but squeal and jump, clapping happily and barely standing still while Kyle puts the saniderm on. You’re just to happy! Not only did Kyle get his first tattoo done but now you have brand new (free) cute ink to show off. Kyle looks tired, though, so you try not over overwhelm him while he cleans up. Concentrating like that with anxiety must have really taken it out of him.

You sort of forget about your promise of a reward for the next week. Too busy focusing on taking care of your new tattoo. The only downside to the placement is sitting in your office chair itches - especially once you take the saniderm off. You’ve mostly taken to standing while working and wearing shorts and skirts to let it breathe. It’s worth it, though. You’ll have to ask Kyle how soon he wants to do the other one. Without being pushy, of course.

You quietly hum to yourself as you get the cash drawers ready to lock away in the backroom safe. Triple checking the bags and making sure tips are divided correctly, etc.

“Hey, lovie.” Kyle saddles up behind you suddenly, hands on your hips.

You jump. “Holy shit, you scared the hell out of me!”

“Sorry.” He chuckles. A hand slips down your hip, palm tracing the hem of your tennis skirt to lightly rest over the little bow. “How’s she healin’?”

“It’s, uh, it-“ You stutter, eyes wide and skin hot. If it were Johnny, you’d laugh and swat him away - maybe let his hand wander to your ass first - but Kyle doesn’t do this. Not that you don’t like it - the problem lies in that you’re liking it too much. If the patter of your heart is anything to go by. “It’s good. Not itching yet or anything.”

Kyle hums. “Good.”

“Th-that all?”

“Think you forgot somethin’.” He turns you around, hands firmly planted on the softness of your waist. When you just give him a bewildered look he continues. “I was promised a reward, I think.”

“O-oh?” Your face burns, eyes wide. Is he serious? Part of you wants to say no - to push him away. You’re coworkers, after all. Until your eyes meet his, so big and warm and his lips forming a perfect pout. “John….?”

Kyle chuckles ans crosses his chest. “John won’t care. Cross my heart.”

He gives you a moment to mull it over. You don’t think he’s making fun of or bating you - Kyle wouldn’t do that. There’s no way he’s interested either. That’s one delusion you can firmly plant in the ’purely imaginary’ category.

Whatever. What do you have to lose from a little back room make out?

Your lips meets his. Fuck, they’re soft. He steals your breath - greedy and gentile. It’s been so long since you’ve been kissed, much less kissed well. One of the hands on your waist moves to your low back as Kyle leans into you. Your hands grapple onto his shoulders to steady you. He takes advantage of your gasp at being tilted back to swipe is tongue between your lips.

You mould together, breaths heavy and tongues dancing. A needy, pathetic little part of you wishes the hand that drifted from your waist to your hip would hook under your thigh. That Kyle would tilt you all the way back onto the desk and throw your leg over his shoulder, eagerly pushing up your skirt-

An ‘I love you’ dances on the tip of your tongue and you reel back harshly, hand flat on his chest to separate you.

“Alright?” He murmurs, eyes half lidded and dark.

You swallow roughly and nod, breathing hard. “I, uh, I need to finish the safe.”

Something passes across his face briefly as your eyes flick between his. Whatever it was, it’s replaced by his usual easy smile as he returns to standing at his full height, the hands on your waist steady you before disappearing. Your stomach drops as they go.

“See you tomorrow.” Kyle murmurs, pressing one last little peck on your cheek before striding away, leaving you alone in the back room with a hot face and whirlwind thoughts.

Fuck.

A/N: brought to you by the time a tattoo artist told me my skin takes ink well in the most haunting bedroom voice I’ve ever heard😵‍💫 killed me right then and there

[sunsburns]

Not sure where your rules are, but since it seems like you’ve wrote nsfw before, can I request luke going down on shy reader for the first time (already in an established relationship please)? If you’re not comfortable with that, that’s alright!!

oh fuck yes let’s do this right now. [nsfw 17+]

for starters, it will happen in the most inconvenient place at camp. a place where the two of you find a chance to be alone and tucked away from the peering eyes of campers, no longer needing to hear any of their chatter or whines from the younger kids who liked to tug on the hem of luke’s shirt and ask him silly questions like if crabs like to think that can fish fly.

he pins you against the wall behind the stables, his hand loosely low on your hips so he can pull you closer. as your lips lock in a slow, tender kiss, you can feel the warmth of the golden setting sun against your skin when his other hand holds the side of your face softly, finger spread across your cheek.

luke pulls away, lips swollen but a smile still wide on his cheeks as his eyes take you in. his fingers brush over the curves of your face in a feather-like touch.

when his thumb touches your bottom lip, luke’s teeth catch his own in yearning while your mouth parts just a bit. luke brushes his thumb around the shape of your lips, pressing between them and finally pulling your lower lip down to open your mouth.

he looks you in the eyes when he brushes the tip of his finger against the edges of your teeth before pressing it down against your tongue. this forces you to open your mouth wider, heat crawling to your face when he pulls his thumb out and licks the inside of your cheek. you can hear yourself groaning, digging your fingers into his curls when he kisses you deeper this time.

his mouth is soft, a permanent pout with full lips, all jokes and sly smiles. gods, you could kiss him forever.

“you're so, so pretty,” your boyfriend mutters into your mouth, his breath filling your lungs. it’s like you need him to breathe.

he runs his hands up your sides, making you mewl when he stops near your chest, thumbs messaging under the wire of your bra before he trails down again, hands stopping right at your hips. your shirt has ridden up and his palms are warm to the touch.

you can feel your fingers dip near the ridges of the scar on the side of his face. you let your hands move around, holding his cheeks, wrapping themselves around his neck and letting your nails dig into the curves of his shoulders when you feel him start to unbutton your shorts.

“luke,” you say, but it sounds more like a whine on his lips as he slowly pulls down the zipper. “luke,” you call his name again. “i want you so bad.”

“you have me,” he hums, pulling away from your mouth. “all of me,” he runs his tongue over his bitten lips before peppering sweet kisses at the corners of your mouth, your cheek, across your jaw, behind your ear and finally your neck.

luke’s hands crawl to your lower back, where he stuffs them into your pants, grabbing your ass and pulling you even closer. his hips roll against your own as he sucks a mark into your neck.

you try to reach for his crotch, but he quickly pulls away. “don't” he mutters, lips parted as he tries to catch his breath. he looks at you as if you’ve hung the stars in the night sky, like you're the reason the sun shines every morning. “i just wanna focus on you.”

his voice makes your heart sputter in your chest, and you hold your breath when he slowly kneels before you, his hands slipping from behind you and tugging gently at your pants. “please.”

you can feel yourself shaking from nerves. sure, you’ve kissed, and you've touched each other before under the shadows cast by trees in the moonlight, but the way he mouths at the pretty little bow on your panties, looking up at you with his pretty brown eyes, waiting, it all makes your heart tremble in your throat.

“you- you don't have to...” you’re choking on your words. “we’ve never- i’ve never…”

“i know,” luke says, and his hands settle on your knees, slowly pulling them apart. and you let him. “but i want to. please, i really, really want to. i promise you'll feel good.”

when you nod your head yes, he smiles, almost giddy before sucking a hot kiss into the inside of your thigh. it catches you off guard, and a moan slips out as he makes his way up higher and higher, and gods, luke castellan sure knows how to keep a promise.

[vampzity]

Hi I have a request it's ok if you don't do it but I was wondering if you could do a blurb of how the skz members react to you feeling insecure about your body a slight chubby reader idk why these fics make me feel so ahhhh comfortable

skz members reacting to your insecurities

pairing: ot8 stray kids x chubby! reader

word count: 2.1k

💌: this was such a cute ask! as a curvy girl myself this truly gave me some good comfort 🥹 & creds to my pookie @lov3yv4mps for helping me with some of these ideas hehe ^^

bangchan:

you guys were like peas in a pod. in love with each other’s insecurity’s while hating your own. no matter how many times chan was hard on himself, he went out of his way to make sure you never felt that way. you always felt self conscious about your body, and if you even fit well as his girlfriend. chan was a gym freak— always working out, dead lifting weights like it was nothing and, keeping himself well in shape. he wasn’t skinny as he put on some good muscle mass, but you couldn’t help feeling out of place.

“is something troubling you angel?”

you’d brush him off, trying to hide how unappealing you’ve been feeling every time you looked in the mirror. your thighs constantly felt too big, your cheeks too chubby to compare to the preferred chiseled jawline. you couldn’t even wear tight clothes without feeling disgusting. chan noticed this— seeing that the once cute boho style you loved to wear, suddenly turned into boyish wear. the casual baggy hoodie with sweatpants. it was unusual for you.

he came up behind you, resting his head on your shoulder as you stared in the mirror. a slight frown pulling at your cheeks as your eyes wandered aimlessly around the bathing suit you wore. his hands wrapped around your waist, poking your tummy softly. he kissed your cheek, smiling at the figure he adored seeing.

“you’re beautiful.” he started, pulling your body to face him and not the mirror.

“you don’t need to be skinny to prove that. i love you just the way you are.”

lee know:

lino made it a tradition to take you out to dinner every friday, making sure you dressed in only your best for the occasion. he loved to see the way your curves hugged your dress, giving him a rush at his attractive it was. the only issue was that you didn’t feel the same way. you hated how tight the dress felt, how suffocating it was against your skin. you stared at your heels as you dreaded putting them on, knowing that your feet would just hurt by the end of the night. you didn’t feel like they were made for you. made for curvier people at least. you couldn’t help but frown, slouching in disappointment as he walked into the room expecting you to be ready.

“hey, you ok?”

you remained silent, refusing to meet his concerned eyes as he entered the room. he walked over to you but your eyes remained glued to the floor, watching his shoes stop below you. his hand slipped under your chin, lifting it to where he could see you face to face. lino placed a soft kiss against your forehead, kneeling on the floor to grab your heels. he carefully slipped them into your feet, not saying a word as he wanted to show you his love through action.

“you look stunning as always in this dress. i’ll keep telling you until it sticks.” he watched your hesitant expression, coming up to sit by you. he smiled softly, his reassurance giving you a sense of peace within yourself.

“but if you would like to wear something that makes you more comfortable, i’m more than okay with that too.”

changbin:

“have you ever gotten comments on your body, binnie?”

changbin nodded, his eyes focused on the tv as he flipped through the endless channels. “all the time. they never really stop.” silence engulfed the two of you as you sat there beside him, your thoughts eating away at you.

well who wouldn’t comment on such a nice body like his?

the silence became awkward, prompting changbin to look over at you for a few seconds. he noticed you picking at the skin of your lips, a clear indication of your nervousness kicking into overdrive. he put the remote down, his hand resting atop your thigh. he gave it a slight squeeze, making you break contact with the tv to look at him. his dark gaze made you red, the amount of pure lust and romance pooling into them making you squeamish. his thumb caressed your skin softly as he gave you a warm smile.

“i don’t only get good comments love.” he frowned slightly, turning his gaze away from you and resting his head against your shoulder. “i get bad ones too— saying im too big or I don’t have the right height for big muscle mass.” he sighed to himself, his hand giving your thighs gentle squeeze. “but i wont let them believe they’re right.. because if i do, it means i believe it too.”

you rested your head against his, placing your hand ontop of his own. he was right. your biggest enemy was his you viewed yourself— if you thought you were fat or ugly, others would believe it as much as you do. you sighed, nodding your head in agreement as your hands intertwined.

“and besides, i believe that you’ll always be perfect in my eyes.” he lifted his head to meet your eyes. “so if you don’t believe in yourself, know that i do, yeah?”

hyunjin:

you sat in the chair anxiously, squirming consistently as you tried to be as still as possible for hyunjin. you looked over at him, seeing how engrossed he was in his drawing as he looked at you every few seconds.

“i can’t get the perfect picture if you keep squirming baby.”

you nodded, forcing yourself to keep still. except you couldn’t help but subconsciously move your arms in front of you. you felt disgusted by your figure— not wanting to be seen, not wanting to be put on display for everyone else to see. your eyes were facing the ground at this point, your mind clouded with countless thoughts of negativity.

hyunjin set his things down, walking over to you. he placed his hand under your chin, lifting your head up to meet his concerned eyes. he kissed your forehead softly, offering you a small reassuring smile.

“you know i’m drawing you because you’re a beauty right?”

you didn’t answer, but you felt your face heat up at his words. he pulled you up from the chair, bringing you to his work space and grabbing the portrait. he held it up to you, taking a quick glance himself before looking back at you. a smile crept onto your face. you never though you’d see your body drawn in this way— the emphasis on your curves, on the parts of your body that you were most insecure of. the soft rolls on the sides of you. he captured every detail you hated and somehow turned it into a different point of view that you never had.

“now you can see yourself from my eyes. from my point of view.”

han:

you were always a huge stickler about yourself, specifically your own body. anytime that you had the chance, you’d find a reason to nitpick even the littlest thing about your own body. han knew this, and his patience was over the roof about it. he knew these kinds of things were normal, as he has the same issues himself from time to time. but he always went out of his way to make sure you knew you were beautiful.

“i think you look perfect as always!”

he’d give you the most reassuring smile, his gums showing through his lips as you stood outside the fitting room. your biggest thing was trying things on— as you knew the mirrors were meant to make you look slimmer than you were. it’s why you never tried things on at the store, but han insisted. “i wanna help you pick clothes out.” he said.

you rolled your eyes annoyingly, doing a small twirl as he motioned his fingers for you to. his face flushed red as he admired the way each outfit hugged your curves just snuggly. he was practically struggling to keep the blood from rushing elsewhere.

a slimmer girl walked out the fitting room with the same dress on, looking a million times better than you felt you were. you looked down at your outfit, shrugging your shoulders as you felt slightly suffocated. han noticed this, walking up to you and lifting your head to meet his eyes.

“stop comparing yourself to others angel.” he pulled the gem of the dress out a bit, admiring the dress outfit in you once more. “you look even better than they do in this.”

felix:

he laid next to you, kissing your plump cheeks softly as he held you close. you felt your face heat up slightly, feeling his arm shake around your waist. you paused his hand, pushing it away quickly and covering your waist with out arm.

“hm? did i do something?”

you shook your head immediately, turning away from him in the bed and staring at the empty wall. felix sighed to himself, attempting to snake your arm around you once more time only to be stopped by you. felix furrowed his eyebrows, sitting up in the bed and watching as you struggled to pull the blanket over you.

“i don’t want you touching me. i know it’s not appealing.” felix sighed, pulling you up to sit in front of him. his hand caressed your cheek, pinching it softly. he brought his other hand up to your face, squishing your cheeks and then squishing his own. you laughed at his gesture, feeling him rest his palms against your thighs. you looked away from his soft gaze, not wanting to face him and he was okay with that.

“you’re blind me with your beauty, what could i possibly hate?” his lips pressed against your check, delivering small amounts of kisses to it.

“No matter what you say or what you do, even how you look can change my perception of you. you are perfect in my eyes.”

seungmin:

he stood in the kitchen, stirring the bowl of fruits together as you grabbed the cool whip from the fridge. he made sure to add all of your favorites and his own, not caring if there were favorite fruits neither of you liked. you sat at the island table, plopping the container on the counter as you slumped in the chair.

as much as you hide it, you knew it was just as easy for seungmin to point out when you were down about your body. he didn’t like to bug you about it, nor give you reassurance that you may not be looking for. a simple gesture was enough for you to know he cared, to know he appreciated you just the way you were. he’d wrap his arms around you, giving you a firm but tight squeeze while his chin rested atop your head. and everytime you would melt under his warmth, his touch.

“you know i don’t care about your looks right? that’s not at all why im with you.”

if he felt even the slightest bit of hesitation from you, he’d poke your cheek and give you a small smile. you looked away shyly, feeling his fingers intertwine with your own.

“you are as amazing outside as you are inside. we all have our moments, but i’ll remind you everyday that you are beautiful.”

jeongin:

jeongin held up one of his sweaters to you, his head poking out just slightly from above as he displayed it to you. you tiled your head; it was cute, but it wouldn’t really give you the baggy boyfriend feel that you badly craved. at least you assumed so. he noticed your hesitant response, his arms dropping as he knelt in front of you.

“how many time do i have to tell you angel?”

he grabbed the sweater, putting it over your hand pulling it down softly so he didn’t hit you. he adjusted the wrinkles and the strings to the hoodie, taking a step back. he held his hands out as if he was looking at you through an frame, nodding i approval

“see. i know what i doing!” he looked up at you, seeing that you were avoiding eye contact purposely. he knelt back down in front of you so your eyes could meet his. he titled his head at you, resting his hands in your lap.

“baby. look at me.” you did exactly as you were told, feeling small out of embarrassment. his smile was huge, his cheeks nearly covering his eyes. he laughed to himself and admired you in his sweater.

“i don’t care if even my smallest clothes don’t fit you, i like seeing you wear my things.” he winked at you for a moment. “This includes my sweaters.

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[sunskisser]

congrats again on reaching 1k, my lovely sanny angel !! u deserve each and every one of ur followers and more 😚🫶🏼

im so stoked for ur ocean odyssey celebration ! and for that reason, may i request that i be accompanied by james potter, with the trope ⁵⁷⁾ evenings on the porch ? 🥰 thank u love u !!! 💘

thank you so much my lovely rese <333 hope you enjoy!

evenings on the porch + james potter

꩜ roommate!james potter x shy!reader

꩜ summary: james’ friends come over, and you feel shy. he adores it.

“Hey.”

You push yourself up a little and turn, catching James’ eye. He’s smiling, like he always is, but it’s hard to focus on his face when his upper half is on display. “Hi, James.”

You scoot over to make some space for him. His arm is on your shoulder as soon as he’s next to you, easy with his affection.

“Hi, sweetheart,” he gives you a squeeze, delighted when you don’t pull away. “Hi. How’s it going?”

“Good.”

James is undeterred despite your quiet answer; he knows he’s slowly wearing you down.

James really was a nice roommate, an even nicer guy. His friends were lovely by extension, and you didn’t mind them coming over. You usually hid in your room and waited for him to come seek you out after they left. But this time they’d begged you to join in while they hung out on your porch, wanting to get to know “the poor girl who had to tolerate their James 24/7.” It took a lot of convincing, but you ended up agreeing for his sake.

James squeezes you again, a knowing smile curving his lips. “Good? That’s all?”

You lick your lips. Your gaze darts over to Sirius and Marlene, shrieking and splashing water all around the inflatable pool. “I mean, it’s fun. I’m having fun.”

“You know, it’s okay if you’re not enjoying this. I shouldn’t have made you come out here if you didn’t want to.”

“No, it’s not that,” you shake your head quickly, embarrassed. “Really, it’s not that I didn’t want to. Your friends are very nice.”

James hums, doubtful. You feel his thumb tracing shapes on the skin of your shoulder, absentmindedly tugging you closer. “But they can be a bit too much for you, and I knew it,” he says, not unkindly. “I’m sorry I made you join us.”

You frown a little, earnestly shaking your head again. “Please don’t apologise. It’s not your fault I’m like this.”

James softens. “Like what?”

You shrug sheepishly. “Reserved. Unfriendly.”

“Unfriendly?” he asks softly, bemused. His tone is a shade of fond and something else you can’t place. “You’re not unfriendly by a long shot, sweetheart. In fact, you’re probably one of the nicest people I know.”

Your cheeks start to feel warm. “Really?”

“Really.”

“Oh.”

You duck your head, smiling, and James loves to see it. Since he’s got you flustered, he might as well continue. “And have I told you how good this dress looks on you?” He ducks his head to try to meet your gaze. “You look really pretty.”

His grin widens when you bury your face in your hands, mumbling a thank you. Although he wishes you would let him in more, he can’t deny how utterly adorable you were when shy.

“Hey, come on,” James grins, poking your ribs. “Look at me.”

He laughs when you vigorously shake your head. He tries to pry your hands from your face, grinning when you giggle and try to swat him away.

You weren’t going to be bored for the rest of the evening, James would make sure of it.

san’s 1k ocean odyssey

[guilty-ff]

𝐌𝐮𝐬𝐜𝐥𝐞 𝐌𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐫𝐲:

𝐕𝐢𝐫𝐠𝐢𝐧!𝐃𝐚𝐧𝐭𝐞 𝐱 𝐌𝐞𝐝𝐒𝐭𝐮𝐝𝐞𝐧𝐭!𝐑𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

Dante agrees to help a friend study anatomy, nothing serious, just muscle names and touch. But with every brush of her fingers, keeping it together gets harder.

Pairing: Dante x Fem!Reader

Genre: Friends-to-lovers, slow burn, virgin!Dante, Oneshot

Rating: Mature, MDNI

Warnings: Flustered Dante, abs touching, sexual tension, virgin!Dante panic, reader accidentally seductive

It started with a study session.

You had a practical coming up in your anatomy module, and none of your classmates were willing to sit still long enough to be used as a reference. At least not without trying to flirt, interrupt, or act like it was a date.

So, in a fit of frustration, you’d turned to Dante.

He owed you one anyway. After dragging you into some hell-infested warehouse last week and laughing when a demon nearly snapped your leg, he’d promised to “make it up to you however you want.”

Apparently, that meant letting you use him like a very warm, very sculpted anatomy model.

He hadn’t expected it to get this serious, though.

You arrived at his place with your textbooks, notes, a clipboard, and a quiet intensity that made it very clear: you weren’t here to mess around.

“No flirting,” you’d told him before even sitting down. “No smug comments. You’re basically a living skeleton today.”

He’d rolled his eyes, muttering something under his breath but he behaved. Sat down. Took his shirt off. Let you study him like he was just another diagram.

That was the idea, anyway.

Now, kneeling beside him, you were already diving into shoulder anatomy with practiced ease, naming structures, examining muscle groups, sketching notations in your book like he was just a chart.

And Dante?

Dante was trying not to combust.

He really should’ve said no.

Not because he didn’t want her touching him- hell no, he wanted that more than he wanted to admit but because he hadn’t realized how hard it was gonna be to pretend it didn’t matter.

But he obeyed.

It was slow. Careful. Methodical.

Torturous.

Her touch was light, careful, dragging over the shape of his shoulders and upper back, pressing into his deltoids, tracing the curve of his biceps. She’d even had the nerve to ask him to flex.

He’d flexed.

“Long head of the triceps brachii connects here,” she murmured, her fingertip brushing the inside of his arm. “Crosses the shoulder joint and anchors along the infraglenoid tubercle of the scapula.”

Her voice was calm, clinical. Completely professional.

Meanwhile, Dante was ready to dig his own grave.

He bit the inside of his cheek, trying to keep his breathing steady, staring at the floor like it owed him something.

She was close. Too close. Her breath brushed over his skin every time she leaned in. He could smell her shampoo. Could feel her knees brushing his thighs as she shifted.

And she didn’t have a damn clue what it was doing to him.

“Relax,” she said gently, noticing the tension in his shoulders.

Dante forced out a laugh. “Yeah. Easy for you to say, doc. You’re not sittin’ half-naked while someone pokes around like they’re lookin’ for buried treasure.”

She giggled, actually giggled, and pokes his arm lightly.

“I appreciate you letting me do this, you know.”

He swallowed hard. “Yeah. Anytime.”

He meant it. Even if he was dying inside.

She moved lower, fingers drifting across his sides. “Okay. Let’s take a look at the abdominal region.”

His breath hitched.

She didn’t notice.

Not when she shifted again, this time kneeling directly in front of him, her thighs brushing his legs, face level with his stomach. Not when she leaned forward and pushed his arm aside to get a better angle. Not when her fingers found his lower ribs and followed them down.

Dante froze.

Her hands were warm. Gentle. Focused.

They slid over the ridges of his abs, tracing the line of the rectus muscles, fingertips dragging with maddening slowness toward his navel.

He couldn’t move. Couldn’t breathe.

He’s wrestled with demons all his life, but this time, the ones inside him were winning. His body betrayed him, hardening in his jeans so fast it hurt, blood rushing south like it had a death wish.

And she was right there.

So close her knuckles nearly brushed the top of his waistband. So close she could see everything he didn’t want her to see.

Well... no, that was a lie.

He did want her to see. Just… not like this.

She tilted her head, oblivious.

“The external obliques run from here...” she touched his side, just above his hipbone, “...up to the lower ribs. They assist in rotation and lateral flexion. Can you twist a little to your right?”

He did, barely, but the motion tightened every muscle in his stomach, and his erection twitched in his jeans, aching.

Dante cursed under his breath.

“Did that hurt?” she asked, immediately concerned.

“No,” he said too quickly. “No, I’m fine.”

But he wasn’t. Not even close.

His palms were sweating. His jaw was locked so tight it ached. And if she moved her hand even an inch lower...

“Hey, uh.” His voice cracked. He cleared his throat. “Maybe we… stop there?”

She blinked. “I haven’t gone over the lower attachments yet. I still need to trace the linea alba and-”

“Trust me,” he cut in, voice strained, “you don’t.”

There was a pause.

Then her eyes flicked down.

It only took a second, a second to realize what she was looking at.

Her gaze snapped back up to his face, wide-eyed, cheeks blooming scarlet.

Dante cursed softly and dropped his head into his hand. “Shit.”

“I-I didn’t mean-” she stammered, voice small. “I wasn’t trying to make you-”

“I know,” he said quickly. “I know you weren’t. It’s not your fault.”

She didn’t move. Neither did he.

The air between them felt thick. Quiet. Loaded.

“You’re…” She hesitated. “You’re really warm.”

He laughed, hoarse. “Yeah, well. That happens when you’re turned on.”

She inhaled sharply.

Dante groaned, pressing his palm over his face. “God. Sorry. I’m sorry.”

“Why are you apologizing?” she whispered.

He looked at her.

She wasn’t laughing. She wasn’t pulling away. She was just...staring. Flushed and breathless and maybe just as rattled as he was.

“Because,” he said, more quietly now. “Because I’m your friend. And I didn’t wanna make this weird.”

She didn’t say anything for a moment. Then:

“…Have you ever…?”

He blinked. “Ever what?”

“Done this,” she said softly. “Been with someone.”

Dante swallowed, throat dry. “No.”

Her eyes searched his.

He shrugged, suddenly very interested in the floor. “Didn’t wanna fuck it up, I guess.”

“You wouldn’t,” she said immediately. “You wouldn’t.”

Something in her voice made him glance back up.

She looked nervous. Hesitant. But not scared.

Not running.

“Dante,” she said, voice barely above a whisper, “can I…?”

He didn’t answer with words.

He just leaned in: slow, scared, shaking and let his forehead rest against hers.

The kiss didn’t come yet.

But it could.

It was there, waiting.

And maybe, if she leaned in a little more…

Part 2

[xx-dinah-writing-xx]

how would the “I told my husband we could try out the position Sabrina does tonight in Juno.” trend look like with Matt Smith? 🤔

London Bridge

Matt Smith x reader

smut 18+, mdni warnings: explicit sexual content, strong language, alcohol mention, age gap dynamics, degradation (mild, consensual), overstimulation, physical restraint (legs held in place), potential back/neck strain reference (body folding), possessive behavior (consensual), praise kink, lingerie kink, London Bridge sex position, deep penetration, rough sex, body worship, clothing play, marking/bruising, creampie, ownership kink

A/N: This is like…the oldest request sitting in my inbox. I’m so sorry girl. I hope it was worth the wait. But yeah. I kinda like mean Matty. Okay no, I really like mean Matty. Like ruin-your-life-and-make-you-say-thank-you kind of mean. So here we are.

————

You come home glowing. It’s not just the glitter still smeared on your collarbones or the faint shimmer of gloss that clings to your lips. It’s in your voice. In the bounce of your step. In the way your fingers fumble for the key with just a little less urgency than usual, dragging out the suspense like you’re still basking in the final echoes of the encore.

Matt opens the door before you finish unlocking it.

“Took you long enough,” he mutters, but he’s already dragging you inside, big hands slipping over your hips like he missed the very shape of you. He did. Three days without your laugh, without the scent of your shampoo on his pillow. Two long nights of cold sheets and your empty side of the bed.

“I brought you something,” you tease, slipping the tote off your arm. But Matt’s already zeroed in on the fact that you’re wearing something different from when you left. A sheer, slinky little minidress with silvery straps and a hem so short he can see the indents of the tops of your thighs. It’s not something you wore to the concert. It’s something you bought at the concert.

“You wore that all the way home?”

“Coat on top. I wasn’t crazy,” you giggle, stepping forward to drop a sticky kiss to his stubbled cheek.

He hums. “You know I hate that bubblegum pop shit,” he says gruffly. “Still can’t believe you went to watch Sabrina Carpenter waltz around in glitter and sing about her being horny.”

You give him a look. “You watched the clips I sent.”

His grin twitches. “Only to see you screaming your lungs out in the front row.”

You hum, sliding past him into the warm flat, letting his eyes drink in the glittery, girlish mess of you as you flop onto the carpet like a starfish. Your bag’s half open, spilling merch and lipgloss and a keychain you forgot you bought at the arena.

“So, get this,” you start, propping your chin in your hand. “Every single stop on the tour, during Juno, Sabrina does a different sex position. Like, she just throws one in. It’s always new.”

Matt raises a brow. “Charming.”

“No, but listen. Tonight, she did London Bridge.”

His brow furrows. You sit up on your knees, hair bouncing as you mime it with your hands.

“Like... you're bent over, but the other person’s holding your thighs up? It’s like... a bridge. Your back curves like an arch. It’s hot.”

Matt crosses his arms, watching you with that lazy, dark gaze that always says more than his mouth does. You’re still giddy, still buzzing from the bass and the girls and the sugary cocktails. Your knees press together. Your thighs squeeze just slightly.

“And you want to try it.”

You nod, lip caught between your teeth.

Matt watches you for another beat before kneeling in front of you, cupping your face with one rough hand. His voice drops, smooth as whiskey and velvet.

“Did you think about me at all while she sang about those other boys, sweetheart?”

Your breath catches. You nod slowly, heart fluttering.

“Yeah? While you were wearing this tiny thing and dancing with your little friends?”

His hand slips down your neck, thumbs brushing the tops of your breasts through the sheer fabric. No bra. He can see everything. Your nipples tight and peeking against the silver.

“I thought about you during that song,” you whisper. “I imagined you bending me like that. My back in an arch. Your hands on my thighs. Carpet burn and everything.”

That’s all it takes.

He kisses you hard, knocking you back against the rug as your fingers tangle in the collar of his shirt. He’s still in yesterday’s tee, smelling like soap and a faint hint of his cologne. You whimper into his mouth, legs wrapping around his waist as he presses between them.

“You’re a bad little girl,” he growls softly, dragging his mouth down your throat. “Running off to those concerts. Coming home soaked. Dripping like you’re ready for me to fuck the concert out of you.”

“I missed you,” you moan, letting him pull the dress down your body until it pools around your waist. His hands move like he’s memorizing you again, fingers spreading over your tummy, down to your hips, thumbs hooking into your panties and peeling them down.

He lays you bare against the rug.

“You’re gonna let me fold you like that?” he murmurs, voice amused but thick with want. “Want me to see how far you bend?”

You nod again, lips parted, panting.

Matt grabs one of the throw pillows off the couch and gently slips it under your shoulders. “Pillow for my sweetheart,” he murmurs, kissing your cheek. “Can’t have you bruising this pretty spine.”

You giggle breathlessly, but the sound breaks when he lifts your hips.

Your thighs slide over his sides as he kneels between them, bending you almost in half. The pillow props your neck up just enough to get the angle perfect. You’re open, entirely vulnerable, arched like a bridge, breasts pointing toward your chin and pussy glistening in the dim light of the living room.

“Jesus,” Matt mutters, stroking a hand over your stomach as he takes himself in hand. He’s already hard. Big, flushed, leaking for you. You’re too pretty like this. Too fuckable. He’s forty-two, he shouldn’t be getting this worked up over some pop song pose, but here you are.

“I want it,” you whisper. “I want you like this.”

He doesn't make you wait.

He sinks into you slowly, groaning low in his throat as your body stretches around him. The angle is insane. He hits spots he usually can’t. You cry out, grabbing onto the pillows on the floor as he holds your thighs in place, using them as leverage to drive deeper.

It’s slow at first. Deep. Controlled. He watches you squirm, watches your jaw slacken and your eyes roll just a little. He knows your body better than you do. Knows exactly when your walls start to flutter, exactly how far he can push before you break.

“London Bridge,” he huffs. “What a fucking joke. This isn’t a concert pose. This is a goddamn devotional.”

You moan helplessly, fingers scrabbling at the rug.

“Matt... Matt, please,”

He shifts his hips just slightly and you see stars. The pillow shoves you into that perfect arch and his thrusts get faster, rougher, skin slapping on skin. He holds your thighs tight, nails digging in, growling under his breath.

“You’re mine,” he grits. “Pop concerts, girly drinks, glitter. But this pussy’s mine. You come back home, and you remember that.”

“Yes, yes, yes,”

You come with a cry, back bowing even more, the bridge arch of your body trembling as he fucks you through it. Matt doesn’t stop. He chases his own high, hips pumping harder until he spills inside you with a ragged groan, collapsing over you.

Your body’s still twitching, legs shaking over his shoulders, your hair a mess across the carpet. He kisses your knee. Then your belly. Then your lips.

“I’ll never mock a Sabrina lyric again,” he murmurs against your mouth.

You laugh, eyes fluttering.

“You better not. Tomorrow’s position is the pretzel.”

He raises an eyebrow.

You just smile.

And that night, London Bridge falls down, over and over and over again.

[emchante]

aahh thank you for welcoming me with open arms ♡ i'm blushing and kicking my feet every time i take a look at your blog!! i had this thought about having a cozy night in with danny, cuddling and nuzzling into him while watching a movie or a show, softly caressing his tummy and happy trail without even thinking. your intentions purely innocent, eyes still focusing on the screen until you feel him shifting a little. you notice his pants bulging and he lets out a small laugh, apologising and telling you that your soft hand just feels too good on him. being a generous girlfriend, you just can't leave him hanging, can you?

- 🧸

🧸 NONNIE HELLO!! i’m so sorry i’ve taken so long to answer :( was in my carlos feels for a while, but i’ve been sad recently.. and i think it’s missing daniel blues..

18+ content

honestly, this type of thing happens with daniel a lot. the most innocent things can get him going, and in his mind he’s like ‘down boy, down’ but his body goes against him.

perhaps his shirt had slipped up, exposing a slither of soft skin from his tummy, and then the dark hairs of his happy trail. you loved all of him, but especially his little tummy. it was a sign that he was happy, content and comfortable, that he wasn’t trying to meet unrealistic standards to be loved.

your hand makes its way across his body, sliding up his thigh and landing right where the little bit of skin is evident. you gently push his shirt up further, allowing the curve of his tummy to be more visible, and your eyes followed the trail of hair that was still going.

your hands are small, even moreso against the soft skin of his tummy. it sends a pool of heat to your belly, the size difference doing something to you. but, you put these thoughts aside. another time. you caress the soft skin, fingers drawing small shapes along his tummy as your eyes are back on the screen, your hand absentmindedly moving. you let your fingers graze along his happy trail sometimes, allowing the hairs to rub against your soft fingerpads.

daniel starts to shift, so you lift your hand and allow him to get comfortable in bed again. you hear a small pant escape him and you turn your head to the side, being met with wide eyes and flushed cheeks. you tilt your head, a small smile playing on your face.

“what’s up, dan?” you ask, and it’s innocent of course. but daniel gulps, because that’s only worsening the issue. he lets out a shaky laugh, moving his hand to take your own, and he moves it. you expect it to land back on his skin, but this time you’re met with the fabric of his joggers. you look down and— oh.

your hand is placed atop the bulge that wasn’t there before in his pants, and your eyes go back to his face. “sorry, sweetheart. i know that wasn’t your intention,” he murmurs, leaning in to place a soft kiss on your cheek. “but your hand— your soft, little hand.. just felt too good, y’know?” he laughs softly, but you don’t miss the huskiness in his tone as he describes your hand. you giggle in return, sitting up and turning to face him properly.

you reach for his joggers, pulling them down until they rest just below his thighs and it gets a gasp out of daniel. he asks what you’re doing but you don’t reply, instead you pull down his boxers next and allow his erection to spring free. the sudden cold air against his cock and thighs send a shiver through daniel, body tending temporarily before he lets out a soft moan, hooded eyes on you.

you keep your eyes trained on his face as you wrap your small hand around his cock, slowly moving it up and down as you help daniel with his needs. the moans he lets out are delicious, and it only fuels the desire to keep helping him out. you switch what you do— from strokes to squeezes— allowing him to feel your soft hand in more ways than one.

“i couldn’t leave you needing, danny,” you say quietly, leaning in closer to his face. “it’s my fault you got like this, isn’t it? so it’s only fair i fix it.”

daniel just stares at you, mouth shaping into an ‘o’ before tilting his head back to let out the throatiest groan he had that night. “oh baby,” he whines, gulping once more. “you feel so good, helping me out. you’re so good f’me, aren’t you?” he asks, and now it’s your turn to swallow deeply and nod.

divorced dad! daniel was on the back burner for a while, but he’s back and better than ever! i’ve got some other asks to answer, but if you have anything you want to submit— don’t be shy!<3

[luveline]

what about Steve finding out he’s gonna be a dad for the first time??? or him doting on you while you’re pregnant 🥹

You’re asleep when Steve’s starts kissing you. “Love you,” he’s saying between presses of his lips, the words bouncing off of the side of your nose. 

You blink, eyelashes sticky with sleep. Your back aches and couch springs groan as you try to stretch, Steve’s arms locked around you to hold you in place. “What time is it?” you ask. Your voice barely comes out. You try again, “How long have I been sleeping?” 

You tip your face back. He’s laid down beside you, smiling, his hair crushed by the cushion under his cheek. You brush it out of his eyes. 

“I don’t know,” he says, sounding happy and affectionate at once. “I’ve been home for an hour. We napped.” 

You can tell. You feel distinctly relaxed. 

“You okay?” he asks. 

“Nauseous.” 

“Oh no,” he murmurs, pulling you against his chest. His hand slides down to your stomach. “What’s she doing to you?” 

For a moment, he talks so gently, with so much love, you assume he’s talking to the baby. But then you realise he’s talking to you, and you melt like soft taffy under a hot sun. “Nothing, really.” 

“No?” he asks, hand on the topmost curve of your bump. 

“I think I didn’t like lunch. My taste buds are changing or something.” 

“I can make you something. I’m an excellent chef.” 

“Maybe…” You curl into him as much as you can in the limited space. “In a minute.” 

“In a minute,” he repeats, half teasing, half something warmer. He’s turned on his side to give you and your bump enough room, an arm curled underneath you surely dead and the other still resting gently on your stomach. The air between you is warm, almost damp, too hot from napping together but neither of you willing to move away yet. 

You get lost in thought. The nice shape of his smile is distracting, especially still lax with the after effect of a good sleep. 

“What was your day like?” he asks eventually. 

“Just quiet.” You close your eyes and let them sting, tears collecting under your eyelids that you blink away. “I think the baby is making me really tired.” 

“Well, you’re making a baby. It’s hard,” he says. “Much easier to begin with.” 

You smile rather than laugh, too tired. “Way too easy. How was,” —you yawn wide, eyes watering yet again— “your day?” 

“A little less tiring than yours, obviously.” 

You rub your nose into his polo shirt. “Every shift is another pair of socks.” 

“This one’s worth more than that. A box of diapers for sure. And a couple of days of groceries, I guess.” He kisses your nose messily. “Got your vitamins on the way home.” 

“Thank you… Actually, my day was agitating. I have this itch between my shoulders I can’t reach.”

“Yeah?” he’s immediately interested. 

“Yeah, would you– yeah, to your– little more…” You drift off as his hand sneaks under your shirt and his nails find the awful evil itch that’s irking you. He knows exactly where to go from the slightest hitch on your breath, and he isn’t cute about it. He likely leaves scratch marks behind. It’s exactly what you needed. “Thank you so much.” 

He rubs the scratches with the side of his thumb to cover the pain until it’s faded. “You’re welcome, honey. I’m your guy. Itches, rashes, headaches, weird moles. I’m always gonna be your guy.” 

“Until the baby comes along ‘n then you're their guy.” 

“I guess so. I think you kind of…” You’re both so tired your conversation comes out slowly, but it comes. “…make that promise when you decide to have one. I’ll be her guy, but that’s not– I’m always gonna be here for you. I’m still gonna be your guy. You’ll have to share me, that’s all.” His nose crinkles with his smile. “I’m not gonna give you half, though. I’ll just have to double my efforts.” 

“Really?” you ask. You hadn’t realised you were worried until he mentioned it. 

“Duh, babe. Not gonna punish you for something I did to you.”

“This isn’t a punishment.” 

His fingers spread over your shoulder, skin on skin. “For sure not. I’m not talking about the baby, I mean me. The way I am. I’m not gonna choose her over you, I’m going to take care of you both.”��

His polo is easy to collect and squeeze in your hand as you tip into his chest. “You’ll have to choose her sometimes.” 

“So you admit it’s a her?” 

“I admit nothing, H.” 

“I’m on your side forever,” he promises, noses inclined together, your bump pressed to his abdomen. He’s hugging you like there’s nowhere else in the world to be. “I’m always gonna look after you.” He scratches your skin in emphasis, much kinder and longer strokes of his hand. “Always.” 

[br7ght]

Basking in the Morning Glow Jenni Hermoso x Alexia Putellas x Reader

summary: You've been alone for two weeks while your girlfriends have been at an international training camp. This is the first morning you've all woken up together and I think it's pretty clear you've been feeling a little touch starved.

warnings: threesome, thigh riding, fingering (r receiving), praise.

pairing: jenni hermoso x alexia putellas x reader

word count: 1,700 words

SMUT 18+

Based on this ask here :) @occasionallyaurora <3

Jenni’s eyes flutter open, her body enveloped between your thighs bringing a smile to her face almost immediately. Sunlight peeking through the slit in the curtain, leaving a streak of light falling flush against your face, like your own personal spotlight. This is how you wanted to wake up every morning, your body curled tightly into Jenni’s, your head nestled gently in the crook of her neck, her chin resting against the top of your head, leaving her able to place gentle kisses to your scalp. Alexia’s arm was protectively wrapped around you, her body flush up against your back, curving her body symmetrically to yours.

Jenni watched as Alexia drew shapes into your arm, sharing hushed whispers between one another in an attempt to not wake you up until you were ready. The TV was on the lowest volume, both girls watching the football highlights for the previous week, enjoying their early morning as you three were back together for the first time in two weeks. With Jenni and Alexia playing for Spain and you playing for England, you often found yourself alone during international camps. It wasn’t jealousy as such, but when you were lying in bed struggling to get to sleep, you knew that the two of them were sharing a bed and always had each other. It was moments like this that you savoured, knowing that they’d do anything to make up to you for being gone for so long.

Jenni and Alexia’s voices became louder, presuming you were in a deeper sleep, but when Jenni felt your face scrunch against her neck her voice stopped, waiting for you to come out of your early morning slumber. She feels your hips start to move gently against her thigh, slowly grinding your body as you start to wake up. Jenni taps Alexia on the shoulder as they both notice your subtle movements, trying to gain any level of friction that you could. Last night when all of you had arrived home, the three of you had just enough energy to get cuddled up and had quickly fallen asleep. You hadn’t been touched in almost a month and neediness was overtaking your body. You could barely control yourself against the toned thigh of the older woman.

Alexia had a massive grin on her face as she watched your hips grind harder, your eyes not even open yet and you still hadn’t said anything. Jenni intentionally flexed her thigh, trying to aid your attempt to feel something and the whimper that you let out told them both what you needed.

“Jenni.” You whined, the combination of the friction against her leg and Alexia’s hand twisting curls of your hair around her finger making you more and more needy. “Please.”

Jenni tilted your head up with the back of her two fingers, watching eagerly as your eyes fluttered open, your cheeks pink and flushed as you were met with the dark eyes of the smirking brunette. She shifted her thigh this time, pushing it up against your heated centre and a quiet moan dropped from your mouth. “Does that feel good? Are you enjoying getting off on my thigh already?” Her voice was laced with teasing, knowing how much you liked to hear her voice. All you could do in response was nod, a gentle whimper escaping your lips and your hips grinded quicker against her.

Wolfish smiles were shared between Jenni and Alexia as they both silently understood your neediness, but still wanting to watch you try desperately to get off from Jenni’s thigh in your subconscious state of early morning trance. Alexia can hear your whimpers getting stronger and she stops tracing the shapes against your arm, moving her hand underneath yours and trailing her fingers against your stomach.

“Please, I need you both.” You were growing impatient, her thigh not giving you what you really needed, the friction wasn’t adding up to anything, but it didn’t stop you from trying to move your hips quicker and harder against her leg. They could see your desperation radiating from your body, so Jenni stills your hips, her strong grip around your waist stopping you from moving.

“Jenni!”

“Princesa, I know, I know, but I think you’d enjoy yourself a bit more if Ale and I help you out hm?” She whispers against your ear, her breath causing the hairs on your body to stand, goosebumps gently covering your skin. You nod as you feel the warmth of Alexia’s hand resting just at the waistband of your sleep shorts, not daring to dip her hand any further, just tracing back and forth, teasing you softly.

“You want Jen and I to touch you cariño?” Alexia coos as Jenni joins her hand at your waistband. You don’t respond, just reaching down to pull the shorts from your hips, dragging your underwear down with them and kicking them off in a flurry of desperation. Jenni outstretched her arm, letting you lay your head against the tattoos while Alexia’s hand carefully opened your legs, hooking your thigh over her body so they were both able to see your arousal pooling at your folds.

“God, please fuck me, please.” They were still both just looking at you, their eyes darting between your body and each other, “Please.” That was the final beg you needed, and Jenni’s hand was the first to dip below your naval, groaning lowly at the wetness that she finds, gathering it all between her fingers.

Alexia was kissing your back, nipping, and soothing at your skin and it was all just teasing you, but the heat of her mouth against your shoulder was enough to push you over the edge at this point. You’d gone way too long without this.

“Please, no teasing.” You plead, Jenni’s finger swiping across your folds but not touching you anywhere that you so desperately needed her. Your head buried itself into the raven-haired woman’s neck, pulling her in with your hand as your hips involuntarily buckled at the gentle touches. “Jen please, Ale, anyone.” With that, Jenni pushes just one finger into your entrance, but the sinful moan that leaves your mouth is one that was only going to encourage them more.

“Oh princesà, you sound so pretty, does that feel good?” Jenni asks, thrusting her wrist into you, adding another finger as you nod and moan against her neck. With the curling of her fingers finding your spot, your hips were moving to meet her thrusts, needing some contact with your clit. Alexia spotted the opportunity, adding her fingers to the mix, finding your clit with her fingertips. “Did you miss this cariño?” Alexia asked, the smirk on her face not leaving as your moans became stronger and higher pitched.

“Yes, yes, fuck yes.” Your words were strung with whimpers and laboured breaths. With the gentle circles against your clit, she felt your head leaning back into Alexia, the blonde resuming her kissing, but now finding your neck, etching planned marks into your skin with each nip of her teeth as her circles got smaller and more precise around your bud.

“Such a good girl for us, aren’t you?” Jenni speeds up again with her praise, watching your face twitch and your body grind against the two girl’s hands in desperate need for the release that was slowly building.

“What a shame that you had to go two whole weeks without us touching you baby, you’ve gotten so needy for us while we were gone princesà.” Alexia smiled, finding the rhythm against your clit that she could tell was going to make you tumble hard over the edge. Your nails were gripping anything you could grab onto, first Alexia’s arm before reaching for the back of Jenni’s neck, the two women protectively enveloping you between their bodies while they fucked you, getting you close to the edge you so desperately needed.

“Are you getting close baby?” Alexia teased, knowing the answer as your body trembled underneath the two women’s relentless rhythm, her head was resting on your shoulder, watching as you moaned and gripped your nails into the blonde’s arm, your eyes slamming shut.

“You know what to do then, all you have to do is ask princesà.” Jenni watched in awe as your body twitched to her touches, her fingers finding the perfect rhythm with Alexia’s circles against your clit, slamming her wrist into you, knowing you liked it when you could feel the power behind her arm.

“Please, can I come?” You ask, your voice shaking and whimpers leaving your mouth as you waited for permission, your orgasm choking your throat as you did everything you could to wait for them to tell you to. “Please Jen, Ale, I’ve been so good.” You pleaded; your lips clasped together in desperation as your release was fighting against their perfect rhythm.

“You can come cariño, come for us.” Jenni dictates and with a few more harsh thrusts and Alexia swirling her fingers continually against your clit you grabbed onto Jenni’s hair, your nails digging into her scalp as you felt the orgasm rip through your body, your eyes shut and hips uncontrollably moving with their hands. Every time you looked, they were both staring at you, watching as your body trembled from the aftershocks of the intensity of the climax, you’d just experienced. They worked you through it, gently slowing their movements allowing you to ride the entire thing out.

Jenni is the first to kiss you before she pulled her fingers out of you, gesturing her hand towards Alexia’s mouth which opened almost immediately and you watch as she locks eyes with you, taking her tongue up Jenni’s fingers, tasting you and moaning against her hand. “God, we really did miss you.” Alexia said once she’d finished cleaning Jenni’s fingers for her, a smile creeping up onto her face as she kissed your forehead. She pulled the duvet back over your body, wrapping her arm around you and pulling you close.

“We don’t like being away from you baby girl, you know that don’t you.” Jenni said sympathetically, joining in on the hug by snaking her arm around both you and Alexia. She was stroking through your hair, the warmth from both encapsulating you between them. The air was soft between them as you snuggled your head even closer into Jenni’s neck, holding Alexia’s hand in your own.

“I hate it, I missed you both so much.” You revealed honestly, both women squeezing harder around you.

“We’re home now,” one of your girlfriends says, you're unsure who though. Despite the morning light, sleep begins to consume you once again.

[zorrasucia]

Teach Me Tonight - Part 3

[Part 1] [Part 2] Part 3: [Deleted Scene] [Part 4] [Part 5] [Part 6] [Part 7] [Deleted Scene] [Part 8]

Reader x Carmy Berzatto (The Bear FX)

Rating: Explicit (5k)

Tags: Smut, Set sometime after the opening of The Bear, Porn with a little plot, Virgin!Carmy, Oral (M and F receiving), Phone sex, Dream sex, P in V sex, a sprinkle of SoftDom!Carmy at Reader's request, Both Carmy and Reader have a bit of a praise kink

Summary: With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff. "I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

It was a foggy day, the cold of Chicago promised a quiet afternoon with few customers. Sydney showed up at the store and invited you to family, saying something about a surprise for Carmy. You quickly closed up and followed her back to the restaurant. Most of the staff knew you by now; Tina cupped your face lovingly, Nat hugged you, and Richie showed you to your seat. Everyone was there except Carmy. 

"What's going on?" you asked Nat in a whisper. 

"He didn't tell you? Of course he didn't tell you," she rolled her eyes and sighed in exasperation. "It's his birthday," she said simply.

"Oh!"

You felt a weight settle in your stomach. How could you not know? You bit the inside of your cheek, trying to hide your nervousness and stopping yourself from crying at the same time. 

"Oh, sweetie," Nat put her arm around you. "You shouldn't feel bad about it. He doesn't tell anyone. The only reason I know is because I'm his sister. We don't do presents or candles or sing because of all the- Well, you know," she gestured vaguely. You nodded. 

You didn't know the whole story but Carmy had let you know bits and pieces of his unstable childhood and the fraught relationship with his Mom, from way before Mike died.

"But Syd wanted to cook something nice for him and Marcus wanted to test a cake recipe, so," she shrugged. You managed a smile. "He'll be happy to see you," she squeezed you to her side.

"Okay, everyone start eating and act fucking normal," Richie bellowed. "We don't want the birthday boy to feel ambushed or whatever. We're having a nice meal, with our neighbor, and there's a random ass cake here for absolutely no reason, okay?"

"Your ass is random, man!" Marcus replied from the other side of the table, cutting slices of what looked like tres leches cake. Fak chuckled between forkfuls of salad.

Sydney had already started passing plates around, it was lamb and salad and it smelled delicious.

"Thanks for inviting me," you told her once she got to you. 

"I mean, you're practically family, right?" she smiled.

By the time Carmy appeared, you were all eating and talking, and he could sneak in and sit by your side almost unnoticed. 

"What's all this?" he asked, looking frantically around the room.

"They asked me to come over for family," you smiled innocently. "It's very good," you added pointing at your plate. 

"No, I mean-" he hesitated, his eyes kept searching for Nat. She was leaning against the door frame and when she saw Carmy, she put her fingers to the corners of her lips and pushed them up, to shape a smile. 'Be happy, okay?' she mouthed.

Carmy nodded, then looked down, a relieved smirk curving his lips. He tried to relax, leaning back on his seat and placing an arm behind your chair. He took the plate Richie brought him and started eating with gusto. 

"So, you know?" he asked after a while. 

"No presents, no candles, no singing," you repeated, knowing it would calm his anxiety a little. "I want to make a suggestion though."

Carmy turned his head quickly. "Yeah?" 

"Yeah," you smiled mischievously. "I think this cake should be like a staple at the restaurant. No way I'm waiting for your next birthday to have it again."

Carmy laughed. After his first bite of the cake he had to agree. "That's fire," he hummed. 

His face looked bright and lovely. Your hand didn't leave his thigh for the rest of the meal. 

You leaned against Carmy's side; he kissed the top of your head and sighed, burying the two of you deeper into the cushions of the sofa. It had been a beautiful day. With his arms around you, you asked him.

"Why don't you like presents on your birthday?"

"Uh- I'm not sure," he replied honestly. His fingers drew pretty shapes on your shoulder. "I guess if you're not expecting anything then you can't be disappointed, right?" 

"I get that," you said after a while. "I just think it's a waste that I sell vintage, and you love vintage, and you don't ask for presents, you know?" you added playfully.

He smiled. "I guess. I think I like it better when it's on a random day, for no reason at all."

"Yeah," you nodded. "Can I do something nice for you, though? Just because I want to, not because it's your birthday," you clarified.

He turned to face you. "Uh- Okay."

You disentangled from his embrace and knelt between his legs on the floor . He tilted his head in confusion. You smiled and grabbed a hair tie from your pocket, making a show of putting your hair in a ponytail. Carmy's eyes widened when your hands ran up and down his thighs, slow, sensual motions that sent shivers up his spine. 

"You don't have to-" he started protesting.

"I want to," you said.

It had come up a couple of times. You'd offer to reciprocate after he'd eaten you out and he would refuse, saying he would rather be inside you. With everything you had heard earlier, it seemed like sex was another facet of his life where he wouldn't let himself just enjoy stuff. 

"I want to make you feel good too," you insisted.

He seemed torn, one of his hands reaching to caress yours.

"You're absolutely free to say no. There's other ways we can have fun but don't say no just because you feel you don't deserve it, Carm. You do. I promise," you said earnestly. 

He bent over to kiss you fiercely. "Alright. Yes. Please," he said.

You moved slowly, undoing his belt and unbuttoning his trousers, watching the rise and fall of his chest as his breathing became more erratic. You pulled his trousers down, towards you, and started touching his thighs gently, raking your fingers through the coarse hair that went down his stomach, palming at the growing bulge over his boxers.

"Uh-" Carmy swallowed. "I have never- So if I don't last just-"

"Hey, it's okay," you reassured him. "Listen, if you last five seconds but you enjoy it, then I'm happy." 

He laughed at that and ran a hand through his hair. "I'll aim for six then," he quipped.

You removed his boxers carefully, his cock was already hard. He groaned when your breath touched his bare skin. You suspected he was right, he wasn't going to last, so you tried to make it worth his while. 

You started by kissing his head, licking the drop of precum in a quick flick of your tongue. It made him shudder with pleasure - and it made you feel powerful, the effect you had on him.

"Let me know if there's something you don't like," you said, your right hand closing loosely around his shaft. He nodded. He was hardly moving and his hands were fisting the cushions of the sofa. "You need to breathe, Carm," you reminded him, your voice had turned husky. You took one of his hands and placed it on your head, his fingers intertwined around your ponytail and you heard him exhale. "Good."

You leaned forward again, kissing around his head, making the kisses open mouthed as you went, letting him get accustomed to the feeling of your lips on him. Your hand started pumping his length, softly, no rhythm to it yet, more a caress than anything.

"You're going to fucking kill me," he rasped, his hand holding tighter to your hair, loosening the ponytail when he massaged your scalp. You moaned against his skin, which made him writhe his hips in return. 

You opened your mouth, taking the first couple of inches of him. You couldn't deep throat, but he didn't seem to mind- your hand was pumping and making up for the rest of his length. He moaned and it made your pussy tingle. 

"You sound so pretty, Carmy," you praised. He chuckled, out of breath. 

You licked the length of his shaft, wetting it enough to help your hand glide easier. You took him again, a little deeper this time, not far enough to make you gag, just enough that he threw his head back in pleasure, the veins of his neck visibly pulsing and his Adam's apple bobbing as he tried in vain to breathe normally. It was all quick gasps and the occasional groan. That was enough teasing, you decided.

You started going back and forth, the rhythm of your mouth echoed with your right hand, the left rested on his knee. He intertwined his fingers with yours, holding tight.

"Please, don't- don't stop," he begged. His face was downwards now, looking you straight in the eye, his pupils were blown and his mouth hung open. "It feels so fucking good. Please, please..."

You sped up, hollowing out your cheeks, moving your left hand so that you were sinking your nails into the muscle of his tattooed forearm. Your underwear was wet with arousal and the sounds he made weren't helping, you pressed your thighs together to get some relief and ended up moaning on his cock.

"Holy fucking shit," he gasped. "I'm sorry, I'm gonna-"

You felt him twitch inside your mouth, every muscle in his body growing tense. He groaned over and over, going quieter each time, letting go completely. Salt covered your tongue in spurts and you did your best to swallow most of it, a little bit of it fell down the corner of your mouth. You slowed down, pumping him until he pulled you off his softening cock, mumbling something about "so good" and "too much". His hand let go of your hair and cupped your face, his eyes were glazed over and blissed out, a loving look to his sweaty face. 

"So fucking good," he managed to say in an exhale. His thumb cleaned the drop of cum off your chin - so carefully, so gently that it warmed your insides. "You're beautiful."

You laughed in disbelief but then you remembered how gorgeous he looked when he emerged from in between your thighs, half of his face completely wet, a turned on blush on his cheeks...

He pulled you up on his lap and kissed you senseless, his tongue caressing your tired lips, humming contentedly into you. You were both a mess: him naked from the waist down, you with your hair completely undone and your underwear soaked.

"Best birthday I've ever had," he said against your lips, his forehead to yours. "Thank you." 

You smiled. "You're welcome. Happy birthday, Carmy." 

~

You had slowly gotten used to sleeping in a bed that smelled like Carmy. Whether it was at your place or his, even if the sheets on his side were cold they still had a hint of salt, smoke, and his expensive aftershave. 

"Get a fucking grip," you reprimanded yourself in a low voice. 

Call me when you get home? 

You sent the text before you could chicken out. He wouldn't leave the restaurant for another hour or so, so you settled on the hotel room bed, the unfamiliar cream colored covers suffocating, the sound of a movie on the TV only making you more antsy. 

When the phone rang, it was a little before midnight. You were comfortable and warm - and completely awake.

"Hey, you okay?" Carmy's voice sounded raspy on the phone. 

"Yeah, everything's fine. I just- I couldn't sleep and-" you chuckled without a hint of humor. It felt silly: it was an overnight trip, you were staying at a nice hotel, and you couldn't sleep because Carmy wasn't there. It was so fucking silly. "Never mind. I'm okay, it's late. I'll see you tomorrow night."

"Hey!" Carmy stopped you from hanging up. "Talk to me. What's up?"

"Fuck," you looked at the ceiling. "I don't know. Nothing bad happened. Actually, the estate sale went great. Uh. This lady had a big collection of dresses, fifties and sixties, beautiful pieces. And shoes! Just tons of them, barely used, Gucci and shit."

"And you got them?" Carmy asked, you could almost hear him frowning.

"Yeah! It's all good stuff and I think it will sell well too."

"That's good," he said, his tone soothing. "So, what's wrong?"

"Uh- I don't know," you repeated. "I came back to the hotel and it was so- just so fucking quiet and it feels wrong, you know?"

Carmy hummed in agreement. 

"I get it," he said after a beat. "When I got here, uh, the apartment was very fucking quiet too. Creeped me out a bit."

You sighed. Maybe it wasn't so silly.

"It helps, though," you said after a beat. "Talking with you."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah," you smiled. "How was your day?"

"It was absolute shit," he replied.

"Too bad I'm not there to fuck about it," you said. 

Sometimes, when Carmy's day was too bad to even talk about, you would fuck - hard and fast - and then talk about it. Hence, fuck about it. 

Carmy chuckled. "Yeah," you could hear him exhale as he fell heavily on the couch or the bed. "That would actually help a lot."

You bit your lip, feeling your stomach flip a little. "Um, Carm?"

"Mmm?"

"I know you said you hadn't been with anyone before me-" you prompted. "Does that mean you never had phone sex either?"

He coughed loudly on the other side of the line. You pictured him choking on his own cigarette smoke, a deep blush to his cheeks. 

"Sorry?" he asked after a moment.

"I mean that we can still fuck about it... If you want," you offered. "You know, you can say what you would like to do to me, or maybe tell me what I should do... That sort of thing."

"Uh," he hesitated. "I do- I'd like to try but I- I'm not good at playing pretend, you know? Never been, not even as a kid."

"If I do the talking? Would that be better?" 

"Maybe?" his voice sounded ragged but not just from coughing. 

"I've never, uh, taken the lead before but that would, like, even out the playing field, right?" you reasoned, your heart beating faster.

"What- what would that be like?" 

"I could tell you about the nice pajamas I'm wearing," you lowered your voice. "The blue ones?"

"With the shorts and the little bows?" Carmy asked. "You look good in those..."

You opened your legs, your free hand playing with the elastic of your shorts. 

"I wish you would take them off for me, Carm. I wish you would touch me like only you know how. I want your fingers inside me," he cleared his throat on the other side of the line. "Would you like to do that?"

"Yes," his voice was breathy, "I would, yes."

"I want you to do something for me, Carmy," you started teasing between your legs over the fabric of your shorts. "Remember when we first fucked? You closed your eyes and touched yourself to get hard again. Can you do that?"

"Yeah. Yeah," you could barely hear his intake of breath and it still made you shiver.

"You looked so fucking hot, I still think about it when I finger myself," you confessed. You could picture him clearly, the veins of his arms and neck bulging, his head thrown back.

"Shit..." he rasped.

"Can you hold the phone close, Carm? I want to hear you while you touch your cock."

"I want to hear you too... Ah, fuck!"

The sound made you curl your toes with anticipation. You got your hand inside your underwear and traced lines on your folds, caressing slowly.

"I'm already so wet," you said. "Are you hard for me, Carmy?"

"So fucking hard," he drawled and you moaned.

"What would you like me to do?" you asked, trying to keep your voice steady. "If I was there, Carm, what would you like me to do?"

"Ri- Ride me," he managed. 

His breathing was a quick staccato that made your hand pick up speed, spreading wetness around your clit. You sat up on the bed, imagined Carmy underneath you, holding tight to your hips, your hands on his sculpted chest.

"How? How do you want me to- oh, God- ride you?"

"Just- hard," he groaned but it was a muffled sound, he was holding back. 

"Carm..."

"I want you to fucking wreck me," he blurted out.

If he felt like he had fucked up, like he had done something terribly wrong at the restaurant, he liked it to hurt a little, you knew that by now. Maybe the rhythm was punishing, maybe it was way too fast, maybe you denied him his orgasm for a while. Anyway, he was atoning. 

"I want you to touch you like I would, Carmy," you said. "Can you do that for me? Put lube on your hand, hold your cock tight, and go as fast as you can, okay?"

"Yes," it was barely a whisper. But suddenly you could listen - deep growls from way within his chest, rhythmic gasps that grew quicker and quicker. You struggled to catch up with him, your middle and ring fingers pumped in and out of you in tandem with his sounds. 

"Oh, fuck," he rasped. "I can hear it. Jesus Christ."

"It's not the same without you, Carm," you said honestly. Your hand was wet to the palm but you still wanted that fullness only he could make you feel. "I need you inside me, I need you."

"Oh, fuck!"

He got quiet for a second, then groaned a few times, your pussy clenching while he did. You were so close. He sighed into the speaker, relieved and spent - you wanted to be happy for him but you were still on the edge and desperate for release. You kept moaning.

"Have you come?" Carmy asked.

"Not yet," you managed to say.

"Shit."

"I'm close though. Just stay on the line, please."

You could feel it slipping out of your grasp. It wasn't enough to have him listen, you needed something to hold on to. You let out a needy whine.

He read your mind, and in that fucked out voice he said: "That was- holy shit- that was so, so fucking hot. You made me come and you didn't even touch me," you fluttered against your fingers. "Can’t believe you're mine. You're my good girl."

He had never called you that. That was it. The tension within you snapped and you could breathe again. Eyes shut and forehead to the duvet, you could almost feel Carmy's hands touching up your back, tickling at your sides. You let out a shaky laugh.

"Fuck, Carmy. Fuck," you repeated, something warm settling in your belly. 

"You okay?" he said. You had dropped the phone and you heard him far away.

You wiped your hand on your hip and settled back on the bed, tired and a little sweaty. You'd have to shower again in the morning but you found you didn't care right now.

"I'm okay," you replied when you could pick up your phone. "So okay. You?"

"So okay," he repeated with a chuckle. 

"Okay," you let out a big exhale. "Now tell me about your day."

~

You were at The Bear, it was late at night, the lights were dimmed down and there were no patrons. You turned around and found the place empty - ghostly and quiet. 

"Hello?" No one replied.

Now that you thought of it, you didn't know how you got there - couldn't remember, actually. But Carmy was suddenly there too, hands on his hips, wearing his pristine chef's whites. The blue of his eyes popped with the ambience lighting in a way that felt supernatural.

"Carmy," you called but he didn't move.

"On the table," he said brusquely, pointing with his head at the only piece of furniture left in the restaurant. There was no tablecloth or cutlery on it.

"What?" you asked.

"On the fucking table!" he yelled and you obeyed, sitting quickly on it, facing him.

"What's going on?" you asked.

He laughed - it wasn't his usual laugh, soft and floaty - it was a cruel sound, glass like. 

"What's going on, sweetheart, is that I'm going to fuck you, on this table, until you come three times," he said and it sent a shiver down your spine. "Or until you beg me to stop, whatever happens first."

You didn't say a word, you couldn't: he kissed you violently, biting on your lip and grabbing your throat. 

"Carmy, holy shit! Slow down," you pleaded when you parted to catch your breath. 

He stopped but only to spread your legs wide open, his fingers digging into your thighs forcefully, then going up your skirt. He leaned to whisper in your ear:

"You sure you want that?"

His voice was low, caramel like, delicious. You ran a hand up his chest, fisting white fabric, bringing him closer. 

"Good," he said. His fingers shoved your underwear to the side and teased mercilessly.

"Fuuuck," you whined as he made you melt in his hands. 

He was touching you just right, having you soaked and pliant so fast it left you dizzy. He thrust two fingers inside you and started pumping fast, his thumb circling your clit - you thanked your stars that you had showed him early on where it was. Your moans grew louder and longer.

"Are you gonna cum for me?" he asked but it sounded like an order. 

You nodded frantically. 

"Are you gonna let me bend you over this table, fuck your pussy as hard as I want?" 

"Yes, please, fuck," you whined. 

Just before the knot within you could unravel, the bright light of morning rushed through the window and made you squeeze your eyes and cover your face. And suddenly you weren't at The Bear, you were at Carmy's place, warm in his bed. It was Sunday, you remembered.

"Oh, fuck," you mumbled. 

Carmy was right next to you, twisting to face you as he woke up too.

The mornings you shared were few and far between, the occasional day off, the days when you had to get up early to take a train for a sale out of town... They were precious, you loved to see Carmy with sleepy eyes, reaching out for you from under the covers. You smiled and stared at him. 

"Morning," you said, feeling a little weird about your dream. 

"Mornin'," he slurred with his eyes closed. "You sleep okay?" 

"Uh-huh," you tried to sound casual. "You?"

"Yeah," you let him pull you in closer, his nose brushed the side of your neck. And his hard on brushed your thigh. 

"Oh!" your heart raced - the one thing that still remained from your dream was the wetness between your legs.

"Shit," Carmy covered his face with his hand. "I'll, uh, I'll take care of it. Don't worry about it."

You cleared your throat nervously. "Actually-"

You didn't know where to begin so you simply grabbed his hand and showed him how wet you were, even through your underwear he could tell. His eyes widened.

"Wh- What- Why?"

"Uh, I dreamt of you," you said simply. 

"What about?" he asked. You shrugged. "I mean, if you liked whatever happened in your dream that much, we could..." he let the offer float. He had that curious look about him.

You bit your lip. It had been good, so good. But it made you feel a little embarrassed about the things that you wanted, what they meant about you.

"We were- Well, you fingered me and- yeah," you hoped he would be satisfied with that. 

"Oh," he sounded a little disappointed but he obliged. "Sure, we can do that." 

He scooted closer still, his hand and the way he moved was gentle and sweet. And completely wrong. You took his wrist and stopped him.

Carmy looked up in concern. "Did I hurt you?"

You shook your head. "I'll- I'll tell you about my dream but promise me you won't laugh," you pressed your hands on his chest. He nodded solemnly. "Even if we don't end up doing it because it's not your thing just- Don't laugh, okay?"

"I won't," he promised. 

"Okay," you took a deep inhale. "So I dreamt that we were at the restaurant. We were all alone, it was late at night and you- Well, you told me to get on a table and that you would make me come three times," you blushed furiously. "You kissed me and you fingered me. You said you would bend me over on the table and fuck me hard. And then I woke up."

"Shit," Carmy said.

"Yeah."

"Was I- Was I different?" he asked. 

"You were a little mean."

"And you were into it?" nothing about his tone betrayed disgust or revulsion.

"I didn't think I would be, but yeah," you replied honestly. 

Carmy ran a hand through his hair and stared at you for a little bit.

"You know I'm not good at the pretending thing," he said and you nodded. "But I think I can fuck you on the table until you come three times."

You felt like you had the wind knocked out of you. 

Before you knew it, you were both naked, kissing in the middle of his kitchen, his hands under your thighs as he placed you on the table. 

"I'm gonna need you to keep count for me," he said, lowering to his knees between your legs. That was the last thing he said before devouring you.

You knew Carmy was competitive but you didn't know it would extend to a dream version of him. He became laser focused: his only goal was to be a better lover than dream Carmy, make you come undone faster and harder than he ever could. Without preamble, he hooked two fingers inside you, curling non-stop, making you gasp for air. His mouth worked tirelessly licking and sucking at your clit, getting satisfaction every time you pulled at his hair. In minutes, he had you bucking your hips frantically, trying to fuck his face. You screamed and heaved and cursed, grabbing to the edge of the table for dear life. 

"How many?" he demanded once he got up from between your legs, wiping his face clean with his forearm. His voice sounded rough and you could see a glimpse of the cut-throat chef he used to be back in New York. You felt the aftershocks of your orgasm go through you one more time. 

"One," you replied.

He grabbed your hips and brought you down from the table, then flipped you over. You heard the condom wrapper hit the floor, then, immediately felt his breath on the back of your neck as he lined up his cock to your pussy. He wasn't careful before and he wasn't careful now, going all the way inside you in a swift motion. It was pleasure and pain in even measures, it was exactly what you asked for. Your knees trembled underneath you but Carmy held you upright. 

"Holy shit," was all you could say before succumbing to the rhythm of his hips against yours.

It was slow, purposeful. One of his hands played with your nipples while the other pressed on your clit. It was too much. You took the hand on your clit and placed it on your neck instead, remembering the way Carmy had kissed you in the dream, holding you possessively. Your Carmy didn't press at all, he caressed the column of your throat with careful fingers, kissed the side of it with devotion. It made you melt onto the tabletop. The feeling of your bare chest on the wooden surface and the sound of his hips clapping against yours turned you on even more. It took you by surprise when you started fluttering on Carmy's cock, your release almost gentle, a series of soft needy moans the only outer indication that you had come.

When you regained your bearings, your cheek to the table and your ass up in the air, you said with an unsteady voice:

"Two."

One of his hands soothed down your spine, a silent question being asked: Do you still want to go on? Can you do one more? You reached for his hand and squeezed it, using the strength you had left to get off the table and turn to face Carmy. He was a sweaty mess, curls falling on his forehead, red in the face from edging his orgasm to give you three. You didn't think you could love anyone more than you loved him right then.

"Carmy."

"I'm here. I'm right here," he maneuvered you gently to lay on your back over the table, his eyes on yours. You hummed contentedly. He lifted your legs, placing one on each shoulder and giving you a shy smile - you realized he had actually read the sex book you had bought him as a joke. You giggled. He didn't do anything in half measures. 

This time, his motions weren't calculated and cold. The tenderness when he soothed your back and caressed your neck had bled into everything else. His hips stuttered every now and then, his fingers touched your ankles gently, and his eyes were fixed on you. It was perfect. 

"I'm close," you whispered, one of your hands playing with your chest, the other reaching behind you to the edge of the table. You felt weightless. "You can let go, Carmy."

It was all a blur: the swirl of electricity down your body, the beautiful sounds that you made together, and the feeling of him falling on top of you. 

"Shit! I'm sorry I'm crushing you," he mumbled on your skin, his arms flexing as he lifted himself up. You looked up at him and cupped his face, the post-coital glow and the morning light making him look angelic.

"Thank you," you said and he smiled. "It was good, better than I imagined."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah."

Right then, your stomach growled audibly. You covered your face with your hands, mortified. He peeled them off and leaned to nuzzle against your cheek. 

"Pancakes?" he offered in a whisper.

You laughed and turned your head to kiss the tip of his nose. "Yes. Please."

[Deleted Scene]

[Part 4]

[featguler]

Heyyyy could you do anything for Rodrygo?

all we've been talkin' about────── the millionth morning after with rodrygo.

♡ ────── pairing : rodrygo goes x reader ♡ ────── tags : reader's gender, ethnicity, nationality, and appearance is not specified. reader lives in brazil and has known rodrygo for a while. situationship!rodrygo goes LOL sorry... it also gets a bit heated towards the end. ♡ ────── wordcount : 809 ♡ ────── notes : "could you do anything for rodrygo?" YES. absolutely YES. thank you so much for rqing! i tried looking for one-shots for him for reference and found none!? crazy. i love him sm. i hope you enjoy this anon mwah. this is lightly based on better by khalid and 'tis the damn season by taylor swift, but as always, just in general nothing too specific ♡ masterlist.

Every once in a while, Rodrygo goes back home to Brazil.

He seems like he has found a new home in Spain—he has shinier friends there, a shinier career. You see him through the screens of your television when you have the time; you’ve got a life here in Brazil too, after all, though not as polished as his, 10 hours away.

It seems like you two live through completely separate lives—you are never quite as interested as he is in the fame, and the glory, and the spotlight. When you don’t step out of your comfort zone, everything feels so easy and freeing.

You do miss him, though. Sometimes. You try not to wonder if he misses you too.

“You were awake?”

The grogginess in your voice pulls a smile from his lips, and he leans in to place a kiss on your bare shoulder. You awaken to his hot breath against your face, his face shadowed by the sunlight from your window.

“For a good while, yeah.”

“You waited long?”

You don’t like telling your friends that you have Rodrygo Goes wrapped around your fingers every time his feet land upon your city; when your family asks, you tend to avoid the question too by mentioning another one of his stark performances.

“Not long enough,” he chuckles, leaning back to his original position, his hand rubbing the spot where his lips had sloppily left a peck, slithering down your body to intertwine your fingers together.

You furrow your eyebrows, mind still fuzzy from your rest. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Nothing,” he laughs this time, throwing his head back.

Your mother insists always that you start dating the winger—it’s safe money, she had mentioned, and she was right. Dating Rodrygo would offer a safe life, marrying him would guarantee it.

But at 23 years old, he doesn’t look like he will settle down anytime soon. You? Well, you think that despite the little bubble you are living in, life goes beyond marrying for financial security.

Life is what you make of it, after all. And letting your friend kiss you in places friends should not see is what you make of it.

It’s what gives you the thrill—that sense of self-pity you have for yourself whenever he would leave and be rumoured with yet another different person; the pride and arrogance whenever he strides back into your arms.

You watch his eyes and the gentle curve of his lips, that you lean up to peck after a few seconds.

In response, he leans to kiss you. And then again. And again. And again. His hand reaches to the small of your back, pulling you closer, pressing your body against each other.

“Damn,” he pulls away just as the heat rises, his thumb tracing imaginary shapes on your skin. “Goddamn.”

You laugh. “Thank you, thank you.”

He joins in, trying to pull you in even closer to him.

“Hey.”

He says your name, somehow even sweeter than anyone else has.

“Yeah?” You snuggle down to his arm, pressing your cheek against his chest.

“I wonder at what point would it be okay for me to say ‘I love you’.”

He looks down at you, and for a moment, a strange silence seeps among you two. “What are you saying?”

“I don’t know,” he shrugs, looking off for a moment, to the door leading to your bathroom, before looking back at you. “But I feel like I love you.”

You blink up—a part of you feels like you should have given a more avid response to his strange question, but the flow of the conversation is so natural that you being just you seens like the right move.

“I don’t want a relationship.”

At your answer, Rodrygo laughs. He wraps his arms around you and kisses the top of your head.

“I’m not asking for a relationship,” he shakes his head, still chuckling. “I’m just saying, I love you.”

“Yeah?” You giggle alongside him. “My charm even wards off all those shiny people you met in Madrid?”

“Oh baby,” he sighs, tracing his hand on the back of your neck. “Madrid has got nothing on you, no one there got a thing.”

You roll your eyes, shifting to find a more comfortable position. “Big words, Rodrygo. And you expect me to believe that?”

Rodrygo hums for a moment. “Maybe not. Just that I love you.”

“Stop saying that,” you whine.

“You don’t have to say it back,” he raises an eyebrow, as though defending himself.

“I’m not gonna.” You raise a hand to the base of his neck and pull him closer, close enough for your lips to reach his.

Through the kiss, you feel his lips curving into a smile.

Spain or Brazil, through fame and glory, something inside of you supposes that he misses you too sometimes.

[thwispsings]

can i get soft lbh and tlj please please please

“Do you see my mother in me?” Binghe asks his father days after their unexpected reunion, tucked away in the isolated abandoned cottage Zhuzhi-lang found for them earlier this week. Tianlang-jun gives him this grief filled smile Binghe has started to associate with his memories of Su Xiyan.

The horrors of the abyss and the gaping maw of his Shizun’s betrayal now seem long gone, like some distant nightmare. His days are filled with discussing human poetry with his father while cooking and quiet comforting silences with his cousin while tending to the little farm they're trying to grow. Binghe now has space in himself to grieve more than just his innocence, his place on the Cang Qiong Mountain Sect, he has space in his heart to grieve for more than just himself.

“You have Xiyan's smile, and her nose,” Binghe smiles while looking at the mirror and his father presses a finger to the divot that appears in his cheek “And her darling little dimples,” Then he pinches Binghe’s cheek and laughs at his expression of pure indignation “And you make her exact face of displeasure at being teased.”

His father’s smile is fond but the curve of his mouth speaks of insurmountable grief,  a loss so great it changes who you are as a being. An expression that Binghe has seen many times in the mirror during the course of his life that is a little jarring to see where it might have come from.

“You have my brows and the shape of my shoulders but Xiyan would be ecstatic with joy to see that you got my hair and my moles, she always loved those.” Tianlang-jun says, absentmindedly tucking strands of Binghe’s hair out of his face. His hair is healthier than it’s ever been, finally being taken care of by someone who knows how to deal with it’s curls and bushyness instead of combed to obedience as it's been since his early childhood. His father leans forward and kisses his forehead, right on the demon mark, then gets up and walks to the door to call Zhuzhi-lang inside for dinner.

[anikasheep]

You and Asmo have match wearable blankets, the shape are bunny, you bought a gray tabby cat one for Solomon cause you know if you don't buy him one he's be upset and jealous.

Your teacher is a menace who has sins of Pride and Envy at the same time and you can't really deny him so...yep.

Still, thanks to these two, now the others know you three have match wearable blankets.

Lucifer

Secretly want one to match you.

You can buy him a white unicorn one and he'd say no while he wear that.

Or you buy him a dark gray wolf one and he'd use that to tease you.

"Now I am the wolf, doesn't think you'll warm me up with your warmth, lit' bunny."

He's the last one to try it, and he might only wear that when his brothers won't see him.

Beel met him once in the midnight, and Lucifer bribed him to forget that event.

If only you two in his study or room, he'd play with your bunny ears, cuddle with you on his lap.

You two made out in the blankets sometimes before wash them.

Lucifer's breath ghost around your neck and ear, the pleasure of being destroyed and put together again by his love polish your soul and your heart.

Your fingers interlocked.

"Good bunny. Sweet bunny. Time to reward you."

He marked you and chuckles lowly.

Mammon

You bought him a crow hooded blanket.

He's over the moon right now.

Always try to trap you in his blanket.l, it's doesn't matter if you are having a movie night, just tap a glass or water or looking for some snacks.

The greedy man just want to hold you.

Steal his blanket if you think his is more comfortable.

He's fk turned on if you only wear his blanket and spread on his bed, the jewelry and Grimms surround you.

Mammon hover over you while he trace his point finger your curves.

Picking up a coin, he kiss it before put it on your nipple.

You pant and gulp when you feel the coldness against your skin.

Mammon shushes you and licks his lips, the greedy shining in his blue eyes.

"The favorite things in my life, money and my human. Now you're in my nest, I think it's time to start party, don't ya think?"

Solomon

Can you believe that? Solomon, this the greatest and powerful sorcerer in human world, would brag about his adorable apprentice gift him match wearable blankets to other demons.

Barbatos sighed and shook his head, Simeon and Diavolo laughed and low-key envy of that. Luke want to have one too so that he could wear that if you came to the HOL for sleepover night.

Definitely post the photo of you two wear the blanket and doing sth domestic.

Like you're holding a tray of tea and desserts.

Or dusting the living room, or writing some papers.

The one makes the brothers want to roast this sorcerer one is Solomon snapped the face when you're sleeping, on his lap.

One hand ruffles your hair and the thumb is rest againsr on your cheek.

It's belongs to a certain one who is obviously.

Solomon pecks your cheek when you're busy with the papers.

You huffs though it turns to be a smile.

"Need some help?"

"Yeah, I don't understand, what is it asking for?"

Solomon cages you from behind, his cheek lay on top of your head.

"The whole sentence are trying to misleading you. This part is useless, the key words is this one."

He points at a place on the paper. Your eyes follow his beautiful and slender fingers.

"...you didn't listen, do you?"

"No."

Solomon humms after your answer. The next moment, you found that you're laying on the desk, your teacher stands in front of you, your legs is spreaded wide and his fingers poke your delicate petals which between your legs.

"Ahh~ah, my adorable apprentice is really naughty, what should I do to teach them a lesson?...I have a great idea."

He winks at you before your world start to spin and heated.

[making-the-crypt-rock]

Pepper, the Harengon

Rabbitfolk gf x human reader

Safe for work. A short, comforting story for those in need of a cuddle.

It's far too cold and you can't sleep without your girlfriend, but she has finally finished studying. Time for bed.

It's late. Even under your favorite blanket, you can't seem to get comfortable and you know exactly why. Pepper isn't here. Your warm, soft girlfriend isn't in bed with you. She, understandably, needed to finish a research paper for her sports medicine class, but knowing that and supporting her does very little to make it easier for you to fall asleep without her. You're cold, and loving support isn't going to warm you up.

Thud, thud, thud. Finally, you hear Pepper's feet coming up the stairs. You can tell that she's trying to sneak, but the wood floor makes that hard for her and her big paws. When the door creaks open, you pick up your head to look at her. She has her ears tucked back and looks exhausted.

"Baby, why are you still up? It's almost one," Pepper says in a worried tone as she steps into the room. You contemplate turning on your bedside lamp, but you remember that her sight is better than yours, when it comes to darkness.

You answer her, "I couldn't fall asleep." You roll onto your side to face her while she changes into a fresh pair of pajamas. "I need my snuggle bunny." You give her the puppy eyes and tuck your knees up. You contemplate giving her a grabby hand, but you think that might be too pathetic.

"Pfft, you're adorable, you know that?" laughs Pepper. Your girlfriend has the prettiest laugh. She places her hand on your cheek. It feels so nice. You sit up and meet her for a lingering kiss. The fur around her lips tastes like old coffee and peanut butter. Her whiskers tickle your cheeks. Before she steps away to put her dirty clothes in the hamper, she leaves a small, soft peck on your forehead that you happily lean into.

"Your paper's done and turned in, then?" you ask as you pull the blankets back on Pepper's side of the bed. It lets in a draft and you're very much ready for snuggle time.

"Yeah," Pepper answers, balling up her clothes and shooting them into the hamper, like the lumpiest basketball that you could ever have seen. "I think I'm in for a good grade, but we're turning them in, tomorrow morning. Dr. Hannover likes physical copies." She slides under the covers and you both jostle together until you're perfectly cuddled up and spooning. Her warm chest is against your back, her arms are wrapped around you, and her legs are entangled with yours. You let out a content sigh, happy to finally be free of the late November chill.

"Yeah, that makes sense. I'm sure you're going to get a good grade. You love that class," you reply, yawning, before closing your eyes and preparing to drift off.

"You know what I love more?" asks Pepper, nuzzling against the back of your neck. She leaves a few kisses that make you hum.

You softly chuckle before asking, "What's that?"

Her finger traces the shape of a love heart on your chest. On the first side she says, "I." As she draws the second side, she says, "Love". Then, she taps the center, right over your heart and says, "You." Pepper answers, low and soft. The first time she did that, you called her the sappiest creature to ever exist. Now, you still think it's pretty sappy, but you feel so much joy when she says it.

You pull her paw up to meet your lips, saying, "I love you too, sweet pea," before kissing it. Pepper's foot flitters and you feel her shift to get you, somehow, even closer. Her right hand slides down over your stomach and to your hip. She starts tracing circles over the curve of your pelvic bone and the top of your bikini line. It makes you smile and hum, knowing just what she's after.

"Would you like me to make love to you, tonight, baby?" Pepper asks, in a voice like velvet. She's always been a sweet talker. And you know what they say about rabbits and their propensity for multiplying, not that the two of you could. You roll over, curling into her chest. Her dark eyes look back at you with all the love in the world within them. The glowing stars that the two of you decorated the ceiling with are framing her cute face and you almost don't want to close your eyes.

"You're cute, baby... But not tonight. Maybe tomorrow?" you offer. When you yawn, Pepper instantly follows. She nods and smiles. Then, she kisses your forehead, again, letting her lips linger.

"Maybe works for me, hun," Pepper answers, wrapping her arm around your shoulders. "Definitely time for bed." She shimmies into a comfy position, holding you close. You're feeling much warmer and more cozy, now that she's here.

"Goodnight, sweet pea," you say into Pepper's chest.

"Goodnight, baby," she answers, yawning, before the two of you drift off to sleep.