#know that they love each other. and they can be soft and loving and tender with each other. but it's also seeing who can eat the most

[tapiocakisses]

BREEDING JJK MEN incl. satoru gojo, nanami kento, choso kamo, + sukuna ryomen

tags – bottom satoru/nanami/choso/sukuna, trans choso (tdick mention), trueform sukuna, no ronouns used for reader, gn reader (can be amab or afab)

warnings – breeding, teasing (sukuna), lactation (sukuna), dirty talk, nipple play (ish), mating press (choso), words "cock" and "dick" used to describe reader's genitalia / strap.

notes – may be a little ooc & kinda rushed on choso's part. sorry. :((

With Satoru, it's a slip of the tongue. It could've come from either of you at this point, but in the high of pleasure, all you two cared about was basking in the ecstasy of each other. You did what any reasonable person would do; you grabbed Satoru's hips and lifted them off the bed, pushing your dick further into him. Satoru kept his locked ankles on the dip of your back, pushing your hips against his some more. If you or him had any sense of clarity right now, you'd be worried about bruising your pelvis from the pressure of the contact. His moans and pleas were loud and desperate. “Please, [name]! Oh, fuck! Right there! Fuck me full! Don't stop! I – I want your cum… breed me, please.” He begged and pleaded until his voice gave out and all he could do was moan and whine. Satoru was always good at begging when he wanted something. The sad puppy eyes, how he slumps against your back when he spoons you, whining incoherently, and peppering kisses to your neck. During sex was different, though. Satoru's eyes glistening from tears, his face and neck flushed a pretty red, plump lips parted, and his back arched off the bed. Each moan and whine had a new pitch that always made these moments sweeter. You press yourself against Satoru and grab his face. "I'll make you a dad, 'toru. You're gonna be so pretty leaking my cum." You whisper, pressing a kiss to his lips. It was sweet and loving. A big contrast from how you were fucking him right now.

Nanami is a different story. He doesn't even know he likes the idea of being bred until it slips out of his mouth. He's always so composed and put together in the beginning of sex. Always a hint of shame in his voice when he starts telling you all his fantasies. He's a more gentle lover and admitting he had such fantasies embarrassed him. It started with you pulling his hair, then choking him with his tie, then fucking him on his car… He liked being subservient. Ready to please you and follow your rules. When a desperate panting of, "Please. Fill me up." escapes your husband's lips, you can't help but comply. Your hips stop for a moment as you shift Nanami's hips so you can plunge into him deeper. You lean over your husband and bring a hand to touch his cheek. “You asking me for a baby? You want me to fill you with cum? Make you a daddy now?” You whisper, a newfound tenderness in your voice. Nanami only nods. The look in his eyes was hazy. He was always like this when he was submissive. Easily falling into a blissful state of contentment. "Yes." Nanami rasps out. You grab his hands, lacing your fingers together, and pressing a soft kiss to his lips. "Then I'll give you one. Lay back and relax, handsome."

Choso is shy about it. He had brought it up at some point. He surprises you by laying in bed, naked with his legs spread, pussy on display. a shakily written ‘breed’ and an arrow pointing between his legs were on his stomach. It was really a sight to see. Choso always seemed so cautious around the idea of sex. He was always a bit of a pervert, though. This… This seemed like a big jump from where you two were. Not like you were complaining about it. The flushed, hazy expression on his face when you worked him open on your fingers and sunk him onto your cock was always worth it. Pressing Choso's thighs against his abdomen as you pistoned your cock into him was pure bliss. "Mmmph! [Name]! P - Please… Fill me up. I've been good. Wanna be a dad. I wanna be full." He rambled, hands grabbing at the back of your neck, holding you down against his body. Choso loved the intimacy and closeness when you fucked. He loved touching and being touched. "I'll give you whatever you want, Cho." You promised, voice barely above a whisper.

Sukuna is a stubborn bastard. It’s basically in his blood to make things more difficult to test people’s resolve. It isn’t any different with you. No matter what position he's in, he's making demands. Telling you how to fuck him, grabbing you to touch or move just right, sometimes digging his nails into your skin to keep you in place. This time is hardly any different. There was this one thing. You found out a secret of his during sex – Sukuna lactates. It was an accident. You swear it. You grabbed one of his pecs, feeling a little swollen under your touch. It was purely to make a little joke on your part, so you gave it a light squeeze and watched as a small dribble of white liquid - milk - dripped out. You turned to your boyfriend, expecting some kind of harsh reaction, but he looked dazed. Maybe that wasn't the right word, but Sukuna was always hard to read. No words were said as you tried again, watching as more milk dribbled out. “Awh… look at you. Feels good, doesn't it?” You coo at him, slowly brushing your thumb over his leaking nipple, gliding the milk around the sensitive nub. “Maybe I should get you pregnant. This can't be wasted.”  You smirked at Sukuna, watching him break under you with every thrust. “You'd like that, wouldn't you?” He hissed out, head falling back onto the pillows as he attempted to give you a look of hatred. He didn't hate you. He was embarrassed. The problem is that Sukuna's eyes always betray him during sex. His usual pissed-off expression is contradicted by the haze in his eyes and the redness of his face. “well? go on then,” he muttered after a few moments of silence. his legs spread slightly more, letting your dick push deeper into him.

tags – @kentophilia

[josephquinnswhore]

no promise left unkept - joel miller x female reader

summary: Joel knows how to fuck, and good. But does he know how to love. He’s not sure, but he wants to try.. with you.

word count: 1.1k

content warning: raw fucking, p in v, reader tasting her own juices, two idiots navigating their feelings.

The sun hadn’t yet completely risen over the top of the tall silhouette of the trees of the forest yet, eliciting a bright orange glow through the forestry. The same glow that makes Joel look ethereal, his hazel eyes glow golden, his skin too.

The cool, autumn breeze weaves through the branches, it feels icy on the exposed skin of your ass.

Your jeans had been brazenly pulled halfway down to your ankles when Joel decided that this was the perfect spot for you, insisted.

“It’s safe here, ain’t gonna run int’a no trouble, promise.”

The deepened drawl of his morning tiredness lingered, the promise was one you’d heard time and time again, in which he took seriously.

Here you were, attempting to stabilise yourself against a growing tree stump that you had been bent over, creating the perfect angling of Joel to spear into you, while your back is arched proficiently. Each time he thrusts into your sopping, greedy cunt, your knees scrape against the stump from the force of his desperate movements.

Pummelling into you over and over, the reverence of his cock clamming harshly into your hole was the only thing keeping your mind off the pain. He was so thick, so delicious, the tip of his cock rams against the soft flesh of your cervix. It’s a painful feat to bear and your fingers coil around the loose foliage in attempt to alleviate the pain.

Despite how standoffish and rude Joel seemed, you’d fucked him enough to know that he was a generous man. Perhaps he wasn’t the most romantic, this wasn’t his bedroom, after all. But he had made it his unspoken duty to claim you. Worshipping every inch of your body, refusing to let you walk back to the settlement you call home without that satisfied, fucked out face you gave him.

Like clockwork, you’d sneak out of Jackson through the unfinished boarding on the south end that was still being repaired, meeting him at the lookout for his patrol once every week for a desperate fucking.

“I know you got one more for me, can feel how tight you’re clenchin’ around me—“ he interrupts himself with a grunt, picking up his pace frantically as he leans right over you. The added weight of his chest flush against your back makes you stumble palm first into the soft orange and yellow autumn leaves. The fallen colourful leaves crinkle and crunch under your palm, collecting under your nails as you curl your fingers into the loose plant.

Joel is grunting in your ear, his thick cock ramming into you with such devotion that he hadn’t with anyone other than you.

He loved to please you, hearing every whine and bated breath he could feel. His fingers are warm and wet, slick of your juices from playing with your clit. He clumsily redirects two of his thick digits to slide against your chin as he clutches onto your jaw, intrude into your mouth, it’s met with the same warmth your cunt provides, and he fucks your mouth too.

With another orgasm approaching, you’re whining, but the sound is muffled by his thick fingers and you’re forced to suck on them, tasting off your own arousal.

Never had you met a man so devoted to making sure you came first, drawing it out of you with his elicit fucking and feral grunts. The skilful fingers and the way they caress your body with such tenderness and precision to what makes you feel good.

He could never stop himself from the rapids of intrusive thoughts of cumming inside you, no matter how much time he had to give himself, he couldn’t. The feel of your cunt clenched around him like a vice, begging to be filled with his thick load.

A devotion to you, but he couldn’t ever find the courage to make you his exclusively, outside of fucking you, with the promise of something real.

You slobber against his thick fingers, tears falling down your cheeks as you cum again, the obscene sound is muffled. In quick succession you couldn’t recall, but he always made up for the days of the week he didn’t see you.

The sound of him grunting and heaving as he pulls out of you to cum on the damp foliage is tuned out by the ringing of your ears after another intense orgasm.

Without a beat passing, Joel is pulling your jeans up to cover whatever decency you still held, and managed to help you to your feet, still dazed and euphoric, you undervalue the intimate and personal gesture of him wiping your tears away.

“You alright?” A softness brings you back to him, into his orbit. The way he gazes at you with those hazel eyes is the only way he’ll allow you to understand what he’s feeling.

“Hey—“ he snaps you out of your dazed state and manages to elicit a nod from you. “Not good enough. I need words, talk to me.”

“I’m fine,” the murmur is unconvincing, lacking any real substance.

The warmth on your ears spreads down your neck as he looks at you, into your eyes intently as if he senses something is wrong.

“You’re not fine. Did I hurt you?” The warm flesh of his hands cradled your cheek.

“No. You didn’t hurt me.” That wasn’t entirely true, your knees ache and your stomach was hurting from his incessant ramming. But what hurt the most was that you two couldn’t do this properly. In his bed, or with someone acknowledging that you two were an item.

Joel knew something was amiss, he knew that you had feelings for him, you two had been screwing for months, how couldn’t you have?

And he—burns the cowadarce inside of him, seeing the distraught expression on your face. The need.

“I’ll come visit you tonight, alright? We’ll have a meal, an’.. we’ll talk about this. Us.” His murmur is soft, a promise, and pauses. “If you want.”

“You will?”

Disbelief overwhelms him. While your heart feels yearning, to keep his hand on you, to beg him not to make you return to Jackson without him by your side, to give him any time for him to forfeit his promise.

Did he make you feel this unsure of the dynamic you shared?

He hums, the sound is even and calm. He pinches your cheek. “I’ll see you in a couple of hours, sweetheart. Promise.”

With that one word, you feel secure, like an infant being held in the arms of it’s mother. Safe.

Joel Miller is your security, and he had never broken a promise to you.

[endereies]

MOVIE NIGHT - CS

No Nut November - Day 9

NNN Masterlist...

-➤ You and Chris relaxing and watching a film together

You and Chris had gotten settled on the sofa together while the tv was shining over the pair of you while it displayed a film you’d seen before. All the lights were turned off and the smell of fresh sweet and salty popcorn filled your senses. A fluffy blanket covered the majority of your body while Chris just sat next to you in one of his larger hoodies These moments happened less than you both wanted, with both of your schedules colliding. However, when they did happen, you both settled into each other’s company quickly, unwinding from the week just gone.

The longer the movie plays, you take notice of his movements towards you. Even with your legs touching, he needed more of the person he loved. In his mind the film had been long abandoned, and his attention drew to the way the film cast a soft glow to your face. Your cheekbones were slightly more accentuated, your eyes had gained a little more sparkle, and a dusting of blush covered the tip of your nose. He just couldn’t stop admiring you. Chris loved the simple things about you especially the way your nose twitched whenever he made popcorn to share. He was just so drawn you, and he had no control.

After a while of Chris inching closer, his chin laid on your shoulder. You were used to Chris being close to you, but after realising how much he moved, you giggled in confusion.

“Chris...? Whatcha doing...” He didn’t utter a word and just wrapped his arms tightly around your waist, his fingers rubbing back and forth where your shirt lifted. Eventually he spoke, his voice melodic and lethargic.

“Nothing, just love m’girl.” You rolled your eyes, covering the way your blush grew deeper in your cheeks.

“Are you even watching?” you questioned his behaviour subtly.

“I’m watching you, does that count.” As much as you try, you can’t seem to regain focus back on to the film and you just feel him watching you silently. He notices the way you react, quickly commenting on it.

“Sorry baby, you’re just adorable what can I say?” Chris smiles softly, drawing one hand up to run through your hair, pushing back a few strands so he can see you better.

“Chris. You’re actually a dork.” A few pieces of popcorn shovel into your mouth, distracting you from his sweet comments. You couldn’t help but blush whenever he spoke about you. His words lulled you further into your emotions and he somehow always knew what to say.

“You love it” he leant his head forwards slightly and glanced quickly at your lips. “May I?”

With a nod from you as permission, he closed the remaining amount of distance and shyly kissed you. A satisfied hum leaves him which makes you smile into the kiss. You both kept it mild yet tender and when he pulled back, he stared into your eyes, a stupid grin on his face.

“I love you, you know that right?” In that moment, everything faded away. You knew he loved you and yet you still found yourself acting like a high-school kid with their first crush when he said it to you. “I love you too Chris.”

He leant back to his original position, not before grabbing a handful of the now cold popcorn and shovelling it into his mouth.

“Babe? Can you rewind it? I was not paying attention…”

@melliflws @yuhayeee @st7rnioioss @sturn-bugz @bueckerrss @worldlxvlys @raysmayhem-72 @patscorner @y0urm4m @bernardsbendystraws @junnniiieee07 @luverboychris @jnkvivi @rac00ns-are-c00l4 @shorthairchris @colorthecosmos444 @anabethinking @zay-sturns @anyaa2s @emilyfaith2003 @jassturn @imjusthereforthesturniolosmut @sturniolosiphone @ribread03

© ENDEREIES 2024

[bestofmultiverse]

Between the pages || 2

Aubrey plaza x fem!reader

" I was half in love with her by the time we sat down. That’s the thing about girls. Every time they do something pretty, even if they’re not much to look at, or even if they’re sort of stupid, you fall half in love with them, and then you never know where the hell you are. "

- J.D. Salinger, The catcher in the rye

Part 1

Y/N blinked, trying to get her bearings in the soft morning light streaming into her bedroom. She wasn’t on the sofa anymore, and she certainly hadn’t fallen asleep in her bed last night. But here she was, tucked neatly under her comforter, and beside her, separated by a few pillows, lay Aubrey. She was asleep, her face softened by rest, her features even more striking in the early morning calm.

A smile crept across Y/N’s face as she studied Aubrey’s peaceful expression. She was undeniably beautiful—not just beautiful for her age, but in a way that felt timeless and grounded. It made Y/N’s stomach flutter, and a slight pang of insecurity hit her; Aubrey was everything Y/N admired—confident, talented, and effortlessly alluring.

Feeling her heart race at the thought of Aubrey waking up to see her staring, Y/N slipped out of bed as quietly as possible, padding to the bathroom for a quick shower. When she returned, she busied herself in the kitchen, quietly making breakfast. The faint hum of the radio kept her company as she toasted bread and scrambled eggs, relishing the simple, cozy act.

“Good morning,” a familiar voice murmured, soft and sleepy, breaking Y/N out of her thoughts.

Y/N turned, catching sight of Aubrey leaning against the doorway, her hair still mussed from sleep. She looked comfortable, yet somehow effortlessly poised, even in Y/N’s small kitchen. Y/N blushed, realizing how close they were.

“Good morning! Do you want something to drink?” Y/N asked, smiling. “I don’t really drink coffee, but I can go grab you some from the café around the corner if you’d like.”

Aubrey’s lips curved into a warm smile. “No need, this is perfect. I’m just happy to be here.” She stepped closer, glancing at the plates Y/N was setting up.

“So… not to rush you out, but I have a mountain of work today,” Y/N said with a small, guilty grin. “You’re welcome to stay, but just a heads-up—I might be a little boring.”

Aubrey laughed, her expression softening. “That’s okay, I get it. I have some things to get to anyway.” She hesitated, then continued, “But… I’d love to see you again, if you’d like that.”

Y/N’s face lit up, her smile wide and genuine. “I’d love that too.”

From then on, their connection only grew. They read together, taking turns with books y/n recommended, and spent hours talking about everything from their childhood dreams to favorite movies. After their third date—a late-night visit to a bookstore followed by a stroll through a quiet park—Aubrey walked Y/N home. They held hands, a shared warmth between them, and when they reached Y/N’s door, Aubrey leaned in, pressing a soft, gentle kiss to her lips. It was careful, as if reading Y/N’s shyness and matching it with tenderness.

As the days turned into weeks, they grew more comfortable, falling into each other’s lives seamlessly. Aubrey was patient, taking her time to get to know Y/N. She made Y/N feel safe, and Y/N adored every minute they spent together. Soon, they were FaceTiming in between meetings, texting about little things that made them think of each other, and finding moments to be together whenever they could.

When they finally crossed that last boundary, sharing their first night together, it was both gentle and passionate. They communicated, both eager yet considerate, learning each other’s wants and needs. Aubrey’s natural confidence took over, her assertiveness balanced by her desire to make Y/N feel loved and respected. Y/N, in turn, was just as attentive, savoring every moment with Aubrey, discovering a balance between playful and deeply intimate.

Two months into their relationship, it wasn’t just the two of them who noticed how special their connection was. After a dinner date, a paparazzi photographer managed to capture a candid shot of them leaving the restaurant hand in hand. By morning, the image was everywhere, spreading faster than Y/N could have imagined.

Aubrey’s publicist called with the news, explaining that the story had already taken off. Y/N knew Aubrey was a public figure, but she hadn’t expected their private moments to become public conversation so suddenly. Their little bubble was shattered, and suddenly her face was online, next to Aubrey’s in articles and tabloid stories speculating about their relationship.

The attention was overwhelming. Y/N’s friends started teasing her about dating “the Aubrey Plaza,” while her family’s reaction was more complicated. They had always known she was queer, but the age difference gave them pause, making them wonder if Y/N was really ready for such a serious relationship.

As the media frenzy grew, it was hard for Y/N to brush off the harsh comments online—insinuations about why Aubrey would date someone younger, or assumptions about Y/N’s motives. It felt as if the world was intruding into their private life, prying apart the joy they had found together.

But Aubrey was her anchor through it all. Late one evening, after Y/N shared how overwhelmed she felt, Aubrey wrapped her arms around her and whispered, “Forget them. I know who you are, and you know who I am. The rest… it doesn’t matter.”

They held each other close that night, letting the world outside fade, finding comfort in each other’s presence. And as they lay there, Y/N knew that, no matter the scrutiny, what she shared with Aubrey was real, something worth fighting for—even if they’d have to face the world together, one step at a time.

As days went on, the intensity of the media attention didn’t exactly die down, but Y/N and Aubrey learned to adjust. Aubrey handled it with practiced ease, guiding Y/N with little tips on how to ignore the comments and dodge prying eyes. Despite the pressure, they found solace in each other, learning to carve out quiet moments that felt like their own little world.

One evening, they decided to stay in for a movie night at Y/N’s apartment. Y/N had loaded up a few of Aubrey’s favorite old films, trying her best to make it feel special—a few candles, some popcorn, and a cozy blanket they could share.

“You know,” Aubrey said, settling down next to Y/N, “I don’t think I’ve had a better night in ages.” She glanced around, smiling at the thoughtful touches Y/N had put together. “You really went all out.”

Y/N blushed, nudging her playfully. “It’s just popcorn and candles. Hardly a red carpet.”

Aubrey smirked, tilting her head. “It’s the thought, and you, that make it perfect.” She reached for Y/N’s hand, entwining their fingers, and squeezed gently.

As the movie started, they fell into a comfortable silence, Y/N nestled into Aubrey’s side. The world outside felt far away, reduced to nothing more than the faint city hum in the distance. Halfway through the film, Aubrey leaned over and softly kissed Y/N’s forehead, her lips lingering just a little longer than usual. Y/N looked up, her heart skipping as she met Aubrey’s gentle gaze.

“Thank you for sticking with me through all of this,” Aubrey murmured, tucking a loose strand of Y/N’s hair behind her ear.

Y/N’s hand found its way to Aubrey’s cheek, tracing the soft lines of her face. “I’m not going anywhere. I knew this might be hard, but… you’re worth it.” She offered a small, reassuring smile. “And I’m learning. I mean, I’ve got the best teacher.”

Aubrey chuckled, pulling Y/N closer. “Flattery will get you everywhere, just so you know.”

They spent the rest of the night laughing, sharing stories, and talking about the little things they hadn’t yet told each other. Y/N felt a kind of warmth she hadn’t felt before—a love that was both grounding and freeing, as if Aubrey had opened up parts of herself she didn’t know existed.

A few weeks later, they decided to spend a weekend out of the city, heading to a secluded cabin by the lake. Aubrey had rented it on a whim, sensing that they both needed a little time to breathe away from the constant hum of the city.

On their first morning there, Y/N woke up to the smell of coffee and soft music playing. She wandered out to find Aubrey on the deck, wrapped in a flannel blanket with two mugs steaming in her hands. The sun was just rising, casting a soft pink glow over the lake.

Aubrey turned when she heard Y/N approach, her eyes lighting up. “Morning, sleepyhead. Thought you’d like to join me for the sunrise.” She handed Y/N a mug of tea, remembering she didn’t drink coffee.

They sat in comfortable silence, watching the sun climb slowly above the horizon, casting a shimmering path across the water. It was quiet, almost surreal, and Y/N felt the weight of everything slip away, replaced with the calm of being completely at peace in the moment.

After a while, Aubrey shifted, turning toward Y/N. “You know,” she said softly, “this is the happiest I’ve been in a long time.”

Y/N looked at her, her heart swelling at the sincerity in Aubrey’s eyes. “I feel the same way,” she whispered. Then, unable to resist, she leaned in, capturing Aubrey’s lips in a soft, lingering kiss.

As they pulled away, Aubrey grinned, her eyes shining with something close to wonder. “I don’t care about the noise, Y/N. As long as I have you, I’m exactly where I need to be.”

Y/n beamed at her

"So, what are we reading today?" Aubrey asked after a few seconds of comfortable silence

"I thought maybe 'the catcher in the rye, its a classic"

Aubrey nodded before pulling the younger woman into another soft kiss.

They stayed like that, wrapped up in each other and the quiet beauty of the morning, with their book and hot drinks, feeling as if, just for that moment, they were the only two people in the world.

_____

Just a quick note:

i dont really think itll be a series, maybe a bunch of chapters that might actually work as a full story or at least the same like universe, but im not sure if ill continue to write it regularly or not so just an heads up.

Also im in love with Aubrey plaza.

[passengerprincessblog]

“Something Sweet” Charles Leclerc Short

FLUFF ⭐️

Summary: Charles surprises Y/N with playful affection, stealing her ice cream and teasing her as they cozy up on the couch. In their quiet Monaco apartment, love blooms in the little moments, proving that even the silliest gestures can mean everything.

The soft glow of the TV lights up the darkened living room, casting a warm haze around me as I sink deeper into Charles’ plush couch. Monaco nights like these feel serene, with only the distant hum of the city below, quieted by the safety of his apartment walls. I let out a contented sigh, savoring each lick of my vanilla and caramel ice cream cone. It’s pure bliss — my favorite show, my favorite ice cream, and the comfort of Charles’ home around me.

Just as I’m lost in the familiar plotline on screen, I feel a shift beside me. Charles slides into the room, and his gaze locks onto me with an expression that’s equal parts adoration and amusement.

“Look at you… enjoying yourself? Huh?” His voice is teasing, the hint of a smirk pulling at the corner of his lips as he flops down next to me — so close, he’s practically on top of me.

I make a tiny, dramatic sound of annoyance, but truthfully, I don’t mind him crowding me. His warmth presses against me, and he’s close enough that I can feel his breath on my cheek as he leans in to plant a soft kiss there. His hand reaches up, pinching my cheek gently.

“Beautiful little baby,” he coos, his voice soft and adoring.

My face flushes immediately, but I try to brush it off, taking another lick of my ice cream to distract myself. He watches, and I can see that familiar mischievous glint in his eyes as he eyes the cone.

“Let me try some of that, Y/N,” he says, his hand darting out to steal it before I can protest. He takes a big, dramatic lick of the ice cream, savoring it with a grin.

“Get your own!” I whine, reaching for it.

“This is mine now,” he teases, taking another big bite, nearly finishing off the whole top.

I huff in frustration, crossing my arms as he chuckles at my reaction, his own cheeks tinged with a playful blush. I know he’s enjoying this little game, and I can’t help but roll my eyes, fully aware that I’m not fooling anyone. He loves to test my patience, and truthfully, I wouldn’t have it any other way.

His hand finds its way to my thigh, giving it a gentle squeeze. His touch is comforting, sending a warm, tingling sensation that contrasts with the coldness of the ice cream. I watch him, my lips pressing into a pout as I wait for him to hand it back.

“You can ask for it back,” he teases, eyebrows lifting in that charmingly arrogant way of his.

I smile despite myself, trying to keep up my fake annoyance. “Please, may I have it back?” I ask, putting on my best polite voice.

“Wow, such good manners, Y/N!” he teases, holding the ice cream just out of reach. I make a grab for it, but he pulls it away with a mischievous glint in his eye.

“No, no. I’ll hold it. Go on…” His voice is soft, teasing, but there’s a tenderness in the way he looks at me, like this moment — silly as it is — means everything.

I let out a soft sigh, rolling my eyes again, but I lean in, taking a lick of the melting cone as he holds it for me. His gaze is warm, his eyes brimming with affection as he watches me. I feel my cheeks heat up, the sweetness of the ice cream mingling with the sweetness of his attention. I know he loves this — loves the simple act of taking care of me, even in the silliest, most playful ways.

Eventually, he leans back, pulling me against his chest, and I let myself sink into his embrace. His arm wraps around me, fingers brushing through my hair as we settle back into the quiet comfort of each other’s presence. We finish the rest of the show like that, cocooned together, the faint taste of vanilla and caramel lingering on my lips, a memory of this perfect moment.

——————————————————-

Thank you for reading!

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[thatlittlered]

rings of power men | tropes

warning(s): light TROP spoilers, gn!reader used throughout

author's note: most of these will be turned into actual fics :)

-.-.-

Elrond + friends to lovers

GIF by @fukutomichi

As kind as summer, as gentle as the soft rays of sun upon your faces whilst you sit in each other's company and he is weaving, unbeknownst to you, tales of your wit and beauty in his mind; poems he would never dare show you. It was love long before either of you knew what to call it.

Gil-galad + opposites attract

GIF by @fukutomichi

Born and raised the son of kings, Gil-galad has known nothing but duty during his lifetime. A King neither ventures, nor tries his hand at passing affections, and yet the curse of a still beating heart inevitably finds him when his lieutenant and trusted friend Círdan is apprenticed by a lovely lowly elf.

Celebrimbor + soulmates

GIF by @dailyflicks

It is instant, absolute. As if the two of you were born a mystical creature, bearing two faces, four arms and four legs, until the Valar separated you and forced you to spend eternity searching for your other half. In the worst of times and the most unlikely of places, the search has come to cease. Alas, so has the time of peace.

Arondir + forbidden love

GIF by @lousolversons

The Silvan elf comes to respect the race of men for what they are during his time in the Southlands and whilst he dare not admit it, it does pertain with knowing you. It is hard to care for the hateful gazes of villagers when your own gaze is so tender under the moonlight, your hands cold and decisive when you touch him here where no one can hear or see. Though he has not tasted mortality, it must taste like you and the urgency you kiss him with, as if in fear the sun might never rise again.

Elendil + forbidden love, age gap

GIF by @frodo-sam

This man was born to be your dutiful protector, loyal like no other and sworn to serve you as his ruler with everything he has. Loyalty and love tend to melt into each other, merge so that it is impossible to tell them apart. It is a tormenting, silent agreement that neither of you may speak on these feelings and yet, it... overwhelms.

Valandil + childhood sweethearts

GIF by @fukutomichi

To know and love Valandil comes as easy as breathing air. You have been doing both for just as long, you think. Childish adoration blossoms in time until your souls are tethered and he will commit his life to earning rank and making it official, from the streets of Númenor to the edge of the world, where he hopes to travel with you.

Isildur + love triangle, second chance

GIF by @vidalharkness

Isildur has always held a deep admiration for you, a childish infatuation even, but your bond with Valandil always comes before all and he happily accepts things as they are for a long time. Friendship is of equal, if not grander, worth and he considers both of you his dear friends above all. Until Valandil is killed, that is. The love each of you have for him and each other perseveres until grief threatens to swallow you whole. On the precipice of desperation, a teary kiss is meant to bring comfort. Yes, of course. That is what this must be.

-.-.-

bonus:

Adar + enemies to lovers

GIF by @anthemias

Sauron saw in you every weakness, every earthly, pathetic desire to be appreciated and loved when everyone and everything has been cruelly ripped from you. To be part of something larger than the pain eating away at your chest until your days in Middle Earth are over and you can find refuge in the arms of those who unlike you, gave their lives for a greater cause. He saw and took full advantage. Adar sees it now too when he looks at you; the agony of knowing you have played into the hands of evil itself just as he has. There is always a sliver of affection in understanding another, is there not?

[mdsbabygirl]

FOREPLAY WITH HIM...

Pairing: bllk/TR/jjk men x fem!reader

Genre: fluff/Smut

Cw: cutesy, lovey-dovey shit, the characters will be mentioned below the fic, fingering, clit play, penetrative $ëx, etc..

Note: this fic is heavily inspired by another ff that was ab geto, and this "foreplay" thing YK... Anyway, I don't remember who is the original creator of the fic, so if you know, tell me so I can tag them or link the og work. Thnx

Fore play w isn't just your usual oral or fingering before fucking, it's much more than that. It starts in the morning, when he tightly hugs your body, and caresses your sides, gently grazing over your curves, as he pressed light kisses on your sleeping form to wake u up. "Good morning angel! Did you sleep well?" He asks, his voice still hoarse and deep.

Fore play with him isn't just your usual prep before doing the deed, it continues throughout the day in many forms. Whether it's the little kisses he peppers on your neck when you're making coffee accompanied by his usual back hugs or the spontaneous kiss he'd press on your knuckles while looking in your eyes ever so lovingly, just because.. that was his reasoning, you're a goddess descended on this mortal earth, and all he wants to do is worship you, make you feel loved and cherished.. that was his reasoning, his mission in this ephemeral life.

Foreplay w him, would also take place when y'all would be all cuddled up, your arms embracing each other, legs tangled up together, to form a cocoon of trust and safety, one of love and affection, where the both of you can relax and enjoy each other's company. He'd press gentle kisses on your forehead, his big hands softly massaging your back, he might also him a little tune for you, his voice feeling ever so sweet, the melodies erupting from his throat, a soothing balm for your ears.

Foreplay w him is also when his hands would slip inside your shirt, caressing your soft skin. His long fingers would slide all the way to your chest, gently squeezing the soft mounds of your boobs. A few breathy whimpers would erupt from you, which make him smile lovingly. He'd press a kiss on the corner of your mouth, whispering so sweetly to you "I'm here sweetheart! Don't worry, I'll make you feel good baby", his tender gaze mixed with his deep voice, sent shivers down your spine, your core starting to feel warmer than usual.

"Kiss me honey!" He'd gently tell you, his gaze softening upon seeing the way your breath hitched. As you leaned in, your breaths tangled in the air between you, the softest, most delicate of sighs escaping your lips. And then, in a slow, sensual dance of tongues and lips, your mouths met. It began as a feather-light press, a light brushing of lips, before the contact deepened. Your mouths opened to each other, your tongues tracing gentle circles and swirling in a tender, erotic dance, the slow, languid kiss drawing out the anticipation and desire between you.

Foreplay ofc didn't stop here, not when you were both hot and bothered, way too needy for each other. "Baby.. can we?" He'd gently ask, his eyes still keeping that same loving and tender gaze, even if they were full of lust. Oh..how lovely! Ig that's what it means to be truly loved.. one puts their needs after their loved ones'.. "how sweet!" You'd coo, your hands cupping his cheeks, pulling him in for another slow kiss, "ofc love! I'll make love to you!" You said, your voice ever so sweet, sent jolts of excitement to his cock, making it even harder than it already was... How sweet!

Now, that's where the traditional foreplay would start ig.. he'd undress you in a languid, tender way, making the air between you thicken with intangible longing. He'd kiss his way down your body, leaving a trail of reddish marks on your tender skin, his digits would trail over your tits, his thumbs gently rolling your hardened nipples. "You're so perfect..kiss.. so pretty..kiss.. my lovely y/n.. I love you!" He'd mutter in between kisses, the combo of his huffed voice and his hand's ministrations reducing you into putty in his hands.

He lowered his head, his eyes never leaving yours, your back arched, a soft, breathy moan escaping your lips, as he finally reached the source of your most powerful yearning. His tongue flicked delicately at your clit, and you felt a shiver race down your spine. The rhythm of his lapping grew purposeful, the sensation building within you with each deft, loving stroke.

Simultaneously, his fingers, coated in your wetness, slipped between your legs, finding the slick entrance to your most intimate space. Slowly, he eased first one, then two fingers inside, his movements gentle and unhurried, arousing you with each languid thrust.

Once, he's made you cum and still on his knees, he'd move up until his swollen, pulsating length was right at the entrance of your dripping wetness. You could see the love and tenderness in his eyes as he began to ease inside you, slowly and deliberately.

You both gasped as the tip breached your barrier, and his entire shaft slowly filled you. The sensation was a mixture of exquisite pleasure and tender intimacy. Your cunny gripped and quivered around him, inviting him in even deeper.

Your lovemaking was now slow, unhurried, and languid, as if you had all the time in the world. Each gentle thrust elicited soft, breathy moans from both of you. Him, being the attentive lover he was, would pause and wait for you to adjust before he would continue his slow, deliberate pace.

As his hips ground against yours, an all-consuming sensation coursed through both of your bodies. The world outside your love cocoon faded, leaving only the intense, white-hot core of your connection. A guttural cry tore from his throat as he unleashed a torrent of hot, thick cum into your quivering depths. In that final, blissful moment, he looked at you, with his tender and adoring gaze, he caressed your face, "I love you sweetheart! You're amazing!" He'd whisper before collapsing into your arms, your intense lovemaking had tired him, and so it did to you.

How wonderful it is to love and be loved...

Isagi, Kunigami, Chigiri, Yukimiya, Chifuyu, Hakkai, Takemichi, Mitsuya, Pahchin, Nanami, Geto, ur favs

© mdsbabygirl do not copy or translate my work without my permission.

[maul-of-shame]

"Beneath the King's Gaze", a Gil-galad x OC fic

Week(s) ago I opened my "middle-earth one-shots requests" and I already posted a few over AO3!! This one’s for @serenni on Tumblr!💕 I had so much fun writing this piece—thank you for the lovely prompt!😊✨ I hope you enjoy the soft moments and the warmth between these two!! It was such a joy to bring them to life! And it's been updated on AO3 now as gift!🌙💫

As always, thank you to everyone who reads, comments, and supports my work—it means the world!💖

You can find it on AO3 here!

Do NOT repost, reblogs are okay!

The Isle of Balar, though safe, was a sanctuary marked by loss.

Souls wandered like shadows, bearing wounds of battles left behind and sorrows gathered in their hearts, yet they clung together, drawn to this place by the shared weight of fate. Among them, Séredhiel had emerged as a light that offered both peace and hope. She had neither title nor the skills of a healer, but the people sought her presence. Her words, like a gentle song, reminded them of home. Her stories brought warmth, and her laugh seemed woven from the last threads of joy they'd known before sorrow claimed them.

From across the encampment, Gil-Galad watched her move among the gathered refugees. Her deep brown hair, though tousled from the island’s winds, caught a glimmer of sunlight, adding an ethereal warmth to her presence. She was barely tall enough to reach his shoulder, yet even from a distance, her presence was as profound as any figure of noble blood. And though he could command armies and fortify kingdoms, Gil-Galad felt strangely unarmored as he watched her laugh with a child, as if the troubles of the world had momentarily melted in her embrace.

She helped mend what could not be touched by a sword or a poultice.

Today, Séredhiel was with a group of weary families, tending not to their bodies but their hearts. A child—no more than a toddler—reached up to her, and she bent down, lifting the little one into her arms. She sang softly, her voice carrying across the camp with notes so gentle they felt like a caress to the ears. 

Without realizing he’d been drawn in, Gil-Galad found himself beside her, captivated by the serenity she shared. She turned, noticing him at last, and greeted him with a slight bow, but there was warmth in her gaze, an invitation to stand at ease.

“_ My king.”; She said softly. “ I did not know you walked among us.”

“_ I needed to see our people. To understand what I can do for them.”; He murmured. His eyes drifted to her, a tender reverence slipping into his voice. “ I see now that they already have someone caring for them in ways I could not.”

A soft blush colored her cheeks, and she looked down, shifting the child to her other arm as if needing a distraction.

“_ I only give what little I have.”; She replied. Her voice softened, shadowed with sadness.“ In truth, I am grateful to be of any help at all. It is a way to honor those who… were not so lucky.” 

He felt the depth of her heart, the selflessness that pulled her to each wounded soul, each tear-streaked face. And in that moment, something slipped past his guard.

“_ You give more than you know.”; He said, his tone unexpectedly gentle. “ You shine upon them, like Ithilwen, the moon maiden herself, with light in the night. You heal wounds unseen. There is no greater gift.”

She looked up, surprise mingling with the warmth in her hazel eyes, the green and golden flecks catching the light just so.

“_ Ithilwen?”; She repeated, an amused smile curving her lips.  He realized what he’d said, and a faint color rose in his cheeks.

“_ It… suits you. I only meant…”; He stumbled over his words, not a common occurrence for him.

She laughed softly, the sound bright as sunlight.

“_ Thank you, then. I shall hold the name close.”; She glanced away, setting the child down, her gaze growing distant as she looked out across the refuge, as if absorbing the weight of everyone’s silent grief. Then, almost to herself, she whispered. “ I only hope my brother finds his way back to me.”

He placed a hand on her shoulder, offering his silent strength.

“_ As do I, Ithilwen.”; He said softly. “ For his sake, and for yours.” 

There was silence between them, but it was comfortable, laced with an understanding that needed no words. As he looked at her, with her gaze far away and filled with the care she had for these people, something stirred in him—a yearning he had never allowed himself, a hope that perhaps one day, when his duties allowed, he might claim this solace for himself.

Gil-Galad watched as Séredhiel slipped back into the gentle bustle of the refugees, her presence a steady balm to the people gathered in their grief, settling down the small toddler. With a lingering look, he turned to leave her, his duties calling him back, yet he hadn’t gone but a few steps when she called after him, her voice light and hesitant.

“_ My lord…”; She paused, tucking a stray strand of hair behind her ear, her gaze shy as she looked up at him. “ Would you… I mean… if you have a moment, would you be willing to… assist me?”

Her words came with a faint flush, her eyes bright as she half-smiled, as though unsure if she was overstepping in asking him to stay.

A king did not usually tarry long with the wounded, much less lend his hands among them. Yet Gil-Galad felt something warm spread through him at her request—a strange, unexpected joy in simply being close, to be of use to her.

“_ I would be honored.”; He replied, his voice softening. “ Show me what I can do.”

Together, they worked side by side among the scattered groups. Séredhiel spoke with gentle ease, each word a salve to weary souls. At her request, Gil-Galad gathered supplies and offered his hands, often little more than carrying linens or fresh water, but somehow, every task felt purposeful.

He noticed how the people clung to her words, and she spoke to each person with the same tenderness and care, as if nothing else in the world mattered in those moments.

She caught him watching her and let out a small, embarrassed laugh.

“_ You know, I didn’t mean to keep you here, my lord…”; She teased softly, her voice laced with a chuckling warmth. “ But I appreciate your help, all the same.”

He laughed softly, bending to offer a hand to an elder who struggled with their blanket.

“_ You don’t give orders easily, do you?”

Her smile was warm, a touch of color in her cheeks.

“_ Not to a king, no.”; She replied. “ Nor to anyone. I find it easier to ask than to demand.”

Yet he saw it, how naturally people were drawn to her, how they relied on her presence without question. Children gathered around her, their small hands reaching for hers, and those broken from battle seemed to find some sense of strength in her gaze. Even those too weary to smile managed to find comfort in her presence, soothed by the gentleness she offered.

He fell into a natural rhythm beside her, letting her lead.

She laughed often, and he couldn’t help but watch the way her eyes softened as she spoke to the people—how she met each gaze, letting them feel seen. To her, each person was a story she was eager to listen to, a soul worthy of patience and care.

He found himself in awe of her quiet strength.

Her joy felt like a revelation, even to him, for it softened the edges of his own heart. His thoughts drifted, and he wondered if there might be a place for such a light in his life. 

“How strange”, he thought, that she brought out a gentler side of him—a warmth he’d once thought he’d hidden away in his duties, his heart hardened by years of war and responsibility. He was a king, expected to stand alone in times of hardship, yet here he was, finding solace not in his own resolve but in the warmth of her smile, the sound of her laugh. The realization caught him off-guard, like a powerful wave, a sudden yearning he felt rise within him.

They settled together beside a family, where Séredhiel knelt to speak softly with a mother who clutched a newborn, her eyes red with worry. As Séredhiel whispered comforting words, Gil-Galad found himself captivated by her voice, and an image settled in his mind: of moonlight bathing her face, of that gentle light illuminating her features.

She was, indeed, Ithilwen—his Ithilwen.

But the thought felt almost too bold.

She was free and strong, a warmth that could never be contained. Yet he could not ignore the ache, the wish that for once, he might find a way to hold something purely for himself. 

She caught him looking, and her lips curved into a soft smile.

“_ Thank you, my lord.”; She whispered, her voice like a song that drifted around them. “ For everything.”

“_ Séredhiel…”; He began, then faltered, unsure of what to say. Her gaze lifted to meet his, and he knew then that his heart was no longer his own. He swallowed, hoping his gaze alone might speak what he could not say.

They turned back to their quiet work among the refugees, and as they moved side by side, Séredhiel found herself falling into the rhythm of their shared task. Gil-Galad took up each effort with surprising grace, following her lead with a quiet attentiveness that softened his kingly bearing. She couldn’t help but admire the way he brought comfort with gentle strength, meeting each soul with a warmth that felt both steady and personal.

Then, a small hand tugged at the hem of Gil-Galad’s tunic. A boy with a freckled nose and wide, tear-bright eyes looked up at him, clutching a scraped knee with a face twisted in pain and a hint of awe at the towering figure before him. Gil-Galad froze for a moment, taken off guard by the boy’s sudden need.

“_ Your knee, young one.”; He murmured, bending down awkwardly, his hands hovering as if unsure whether to touch. He glanced at Séredhiel with a faintly helpless look that brought a smile to her lips.

She knelt down beside him, placing a gentle hand on his shoulder.

“_ He’s looking for a bit of bravery.”; She murmured softly, reaching into her satchel for a cloth. “ You’ll do fine, my lord.”

With a small, hesitant chuckle, Gil-Galad softened, reaching out to steady the child. He lifted the boy into his arms with a tender care that surprised even him, holding him close to his chest as Séredhiel examined the boy’s scrapes. The king’s brows furrowed with an intensity that seemed almost comically misplaced, as if this scraped knee were a grave wound.

Séredhiel carefully dabbed at the boy’s knee, her touch feather-light as she worked, her voice soothing as she murmured to the child. And yet her gaze kept drifting to Gil-Galad, captivated by the way he held the boy, his face a mixture of kindness and determination.

The child whimpered as the cloth brushed his scraped knee, and Gil-Galad instinctively tightened his arms around him, rocking him gently.

“_ Brave lad, aren’t you?”; He said, his voice low and warm. “ Why, a scrape like this? You’ll be on your feet again by morning.”

The boy sniffled, peeking up at the king with wide eyes, and some of his fear faded. Gil-Galad grinned, his gaze softening.

“_ You know, I once scraped my knee too. Right before a battle. I hardly walked for a day.”; He added in a conspiratorial whisper, his expression serious, as though sharing a great secret.

Séredhiel’s heart softened, her hands stilling for a moment as she looked at him. Here was a king, one with the strength of his ancestors, yet willing to kneel in the dirt for a child, his voice a quiet balm that seemed to dissolve the boy’s fears.

“_ There.”; She whispered, her voice like a lullaby as she smoothed a strip of cloth over the boy’s knee. “ Almost done.”

Gil-Galad shifted the boy in his arms, his gaze never leaving her as she worked. He looked as though he might say something, but instead, his mouth curved into a faint smile as he watched her, his admiration deep and unguarded.

“_ You’re good at this.”; He murmured, his voice soft so as not to disturb the boy resting against his shoulder.

She glanced up, her cheeks warming.

“_ It comes naturally.”; She replied, looking at him, taking in the way he cradled the child with a tenderness she hadn’t expected. “ But it seems it does for you as well.”

His brows rose, his cheeks faintly flushed as he looked away, a faint chuckle escaping him.

“_ It… Well, I suppose it does.”; He said, his tone almost bashful, his voice barely above a whisper.

She finished tending to the boy’s scrapes, placing a final kiss to the makeshift bandage as she whispered a soft prayer for his strength.

“_ There you are, little one. You’ll be well in no time.”; She rose, watching as Gil-Galad carefully set the child down, his hand lingering on the boy’s head with a look of fatherly pride.

The boy looked up at them both, then broke into a bright grin before darting off, his small voice calling a cheerful thank-you as he disappeared into the crowd. Gil-Galad straightened, his gaze following the child’s retreat before he turned back to Séredhiel, something warm and vulnerable in his expression.

“_ Strange, isn’t it?”; He said softly, almost to himself. “ To care for one so small, to feel a… connection.”

He paused, his voice tender.

“_ One might think it would take more time, but somehow, the heart decides.”

A warmth bloomed in her chest as she looked at him, feeling a depth in his words she hadn’t expected. Her voice was soft as she replied.

“_ It does, doesn’t it? The heart, I think, often knows before we do.”

Their gazes met, and she saw in him the trace of a yearning, a quiet ache he hadn’t allowed himself to voice. She felt, knew, the weight of his burdens, the responsibility that rested on his shoulders. Yet here, in the simple act of caring for a wounded child, he had allowed himself to be simply Gil-Galad—a man, capable of love, of tenderness.

She gave him a soft smile, a quiet reassurance that she understood, even if he hadn’t spoken it.

And as he returned the smile, his eyes lingering on hers, she realized she felt something stir within her, something she hadn’t allowed herself to feel until now.

For a brief, unguarded moment, she imagined what it might be like to share a life with him, to see him like this each day—a man who could kneel in the dirt for a child, who could hold her heart as carefully as he’d held that boy. And she wondered if, perhaps, he might feel the same.

They stood in silence, surrounded by the sounds of the camp, yet wrapped in a quiet understanding that needed no words. And as they turned back to their work, her heart held a hope she hadn’t dared to feel before, a gentle wish that someday, the warmth she’d glimpsed in his gaze might become something more.

[guardian-of-soho]

Aziraphale is a guardian.

We left him at the end of s1 with the knowledge that apocalypse was still coming. He'd saved the world for that day, but Heaven was still bent on destroying it. The ones with the power to burn everything were still inescapably loveless. It really looked like he and Crowley alone of all the Earth-walking beings would fight for the world.

And he loves the world so much. The opening scenes of him in the record shop, buying his Shostakovich 78s? The warmth toward Maggie and her music and her heart? The generosity, and the delight in the shared understanding, and the pleasure in the discovery that he could make her life better? That he could spare her pain, give her a little more time with her joys? He knows how fragile those are.

He wants to give that to the whole world.

He wants to believe he can lift the doom hanging over them all, banish it permanently. He is desperate to believe it. Even if he wasn't longing so fervently to be seen, approved, affirmed by God's word (I was so undone by his jealousy as he watched Job speak to her) -- even without that I can't imagine him not wavering at Heaven's offer, faced with the chance that he could use all Heaven's might to guard the world again and get it right this time.

And then he's offered that power with apparent warmth, and feigned approval, and the shameless claim that at last they understand. They hear what he's been trying desperately to tell them as long as he's lived in the world. They're telling him that he's finally made his point -- that they are proud he's tried so hard for so long.

So -- the ending is shattering. It is maddening. It's utterly unfair on Crowley. And I didn't see it coming, and yet.

Aziraphale is a guardian. He really will have to see for himself that power won't love what's good; there is no way to make the world safe forever.

[souenkun]

Pokémon Masters EX spoilers ahead!

Kabu likes to play TAG with his pokemon... and he's shown to have a much softer side beneath his strictness in pokemas too... he's so grandpa-shaped to me 😭💖

[xero013]

Day and Night🌇🌆

(🚇⚡)

[koishua]

GAGGINGGGGG THROWING UP SCREECHING i paused on each frame and sobbed like a FREAK he can never stay mad at her he's so freaking smitten, down bad, he's a simp my god get a GRIP sunjae wth

[ratatatastic]

partner bumpies...

florida panthers @ la kings (quebec city) | 10.5.24

[screampied]

how jjk men react to you being quiet in bed and trying to hide your moans

ps: love your writing and I don't know if you've done this or not but respond when you can happy new year🎊

❛ JUST A TEASE! ❜

geto, sukuna, gojo, toji, nanami. jjk men dealing with a quiet s/o who hides their moans.

warnings. fem!reader, lots of praise, dirty talk, cunnilingus, hair pulling, overstim, hiding your moans, size kink, 18+

wc. 2.5k

an. happy new year !!!! and thank yew smmm.

★ NANAMI KENTO.

“everything okay?” he’d hum, and nanami’s got you riding him, two soft grasped hands latch onto your waist as you’re slowly lurching and bucking your hips against him. nanami ghosts a few fingers down your waist.

a sly teasing expression with the way he’s leaned back, his eyes trail from up to down as he sees your cute expressions. “you’re awfully quiet today, princess.”

and you were very much quiet, he raised his brows at the way you hide yourself into his neck, trying to deflect the situation by softly nibbling on his skin and he smiles to himself. 

“is the pretty baby shy to make noise?” he coos, his words were warm—full of tenderness with a tad of playfulness. you let off a soft gasp from the way he lightly grips a bit more on both sides of your waist. nanami makes you start to move your hips, bounce against him, your skin ricocheting from each thrust and you’re so full, pumped full of his girth you can’t even think clearly. “you don’t gotta hide from me. ‘s just me, hon. your moans are adorable, y’know?”

you pathetically nod, feeling yourself throb from not only his sloppy hits against you—but his words, the way he was so soft and tender with his praises. 

“i-i know,” you muttered, your arms went around him and he softly chortles, brushing his thumbs against your hips—creating a pattern-like trace of circles against your skin, giving your sweet curves all types of attention and touch. “i just don’t wanna be so loud. it’s…embarrassing.”

“embarrassing?” he repeats, and he’s still leaned back. nanami’s so pretty, blond hair slightly ruffled, a few beads of sweat run down the sides of his head as if they were in a competitive race with each other. 

he’s balls deep to where you slip out a moan from feeling his tip kiss against that spot that always gets you weak. “oh, don’t say that,” he happily sighs, there was a sparse glimpse of sparkle in his eye and he smiles. nanami lightly tilts your chin up to bring a kiss towards your lips. “you could never be embarrassing, my love. if anything, your sweet moans and whimpers are quite adorable. the way only i can make you sound like that makes me feel a certain type of way.”

“really?” you’d moan, squeezing your glossed lips together. 

“really, princess.” he reassures you, your entrance felt as if it was nearly at its limit, nanami’s cock stretched and stretched against you as you felt him throb—giving him a subtle glance. you could spot his sharp jawline, and the perfect way of how it clenched and tightened. you made him so aroused, for a brief moment he stared away before pulling you towards his chest. 

you choke out a whimper, pressure building up inside of you, how filthy it was at the way his tip french-kissed your g-spot, a sloppy smooch with the head of it — you’re spasming, you’re stupid. 

“k-kento, ‘m gonna cum...” you’d gasp.

“can’t hear you pretty girl,” he groans, peppering a few kisses near your face. “i wanna hear you. speak up, wanna hear that voice talk to me nice.”

once you end up creaming down his shaft for a second time. you’re shaking, a mess and he has to hold you in his arms. a warm smile on his lips as your body lifelessly rocked against him.

not exactly moving your hips anymore—you panted, tugging on the front fabric of his shirt before slumping your head against his chest.

“aww, my poor baby’s all exhausted, hm? there there, ‘s okay. i got you, kento’s got you.”

�� GOJO SATORU.

the moment he figures out you’re trying to be quiet purposely — hiding your moans. a hand covering your mouth he grows confused, yet it turns to straight cockiness. 

“heyyy, don’t be like that,” he purses his lips, you’re laid flat on your back with your legs just lightly pushed apart. just open and spread just for him and only him. “hiding your pretty moans from me? aw man, that’s no fun, princess…”

and he gives you a faux pout your right hand that wasn’t occupied, your nails dug into the depths of his skin, marking up his pale toned arm.

gojo looks down at you, one hand lightly pressing against your tummy to feel how good he was fucking you. 

“m-mhm s-sato—,” you’d pant, again and again. your pussy gripped and hugged tight against him. a bear hug practically. your walls grew out to be so needy, suffocating yet you get cut off your words once he grabs your chin. a thumb swipes against the tiny drool seeping down the corner of your mouth. 

“don’t hide from me.” he murmurs. he’s real slow with his movements against you, slow and steady. 

his bare chest presses against you, and he’s so hot, his heat radiates against your skin, almost as if he was sticking against you. “don’t cover that pretty face. matter of fact,” and then he pistons his thrusts—a hand running up and down your waist, squelches of your cunt ringing through your ears like a bell. “moan in my mouth. gimme a little kiss,” and then he teasingly puts a finger against his lips. “riiiight here, baby.”

his body jerks against yours and gojo brings you into a deep kiss once you lean. his tongue traces against yours, heaving before he starts moaning into your mouth from your sweetened taste.

“sweet girl,” he’d grunt, you could feel his erectness practically plug you full. whilst gojo’s chest pressed against yours, he started to grind slowly against you. your lips parted a bit, eliciting a needy moan from your throat.

it was the way your legs trapped his slim waist, easily locking around. you gasped — feeling gojo move your hand from your face, pinning them towards the sides, and you felt that dumb coy smile of his tug against the corners of his lips.

he smiles at how you start to cover your mouth again, but he moves your hand away. “so damn shy for nooo reason,” he teases. with a blindfold half on, gojo he playfully tugs on the band, clicking his tongue with a swift head shake. “ah ah, i wanna hear you.”

and you grew out to be more flustered the minute he pulls away from kissing. strands of spit depart your lips and his. leaning into your neck to softly, gojo nibbles against your skin all to just to drag out more noises from you.

“think ‘m gonna laugh at your orgasm or somethin’?” he whispers against your skin, still buried deep—inches inside your pussy that gripped and clamped down on him before he giggles at the way you nod. “aw. i won’t do that. ‘m not that mean.”

“promise?” you mumbled.

his thrusts, so fulfilling. it was so deep, reaching directly into those spots to make you your brain short circuit. swallowing thickly, you end up cutely tugging on his arm.

he chuckles. “oh i promise, baby,” and then he plants a kiss near your nose—cheek—then near the corner of your mouth, finally locking his fingers with yours. “be as loud as you want, if it helps, i’ll be loud with you,” and then he runs a hand down his back. “just…not too loud because it’ll be the seventh time the erm…neighbors complain about us, heheh.”

★ SUKUNA RYŌMEN.

“what’s with you?” he raises a dark brow, your back’s being pressed against his chest.

riding him in reverse and you’re so quiet….

dragging a few nails lightly against his thigh and he gives the right side of your neck a few playful bites. “you’re not all whiney like ya usually are.”

his words were so smooth and sly against your neck, delicately brushing against your skin.

he throbs inside you, and you clamp and clamp down on him. you’re so dizzy—yet you seclude your moans by pressing your glossed lips together, only cute faint soft mutters of moans slipping out here and there.

“…woman,” he grunts, pausing your hips, your eyes briefly widen at the feeling of sukuna’s big hands hold your waist in place—a single shift of his thigh, and you felt his girth expand deep inside your walls. “aw don’t don’t hide from me now,” he smiles, a mere softness gliding against his deep tone.

you started to cover your face with your hands from how embarrassed you were—yet sukuna grabs your hands and chuckles. the way the tips of his fingers graze against you make you tingle. you pulsed so much—it got you off to where you felt yourself start to salivate, all from his touch and words.

“you know better than to not hide your pretty voice,” he murmurs, softly sinking his canines into your neck. nibble after nibble, you panted. a whimper leaves your throat once he starts to bounce his thigh. “or…should i stop?”

“n—no,” you choked out, a swift head shake. the way he softly sucks against your skin, gentle fangs softly seeping into your neck before giving your neck a few sweet kisses. “kuna- don’t stop.”

“i would,” he hums with a chortle. deep voice full of smug and satirize. and his cock was just idle against you. at this point you were cockwarming him, and you wanted to move but he had your hips still. “but i guess someone thought it was a good idea to hide their pretty moans from me.”

he was such a tease—you felt yourself burn up once he drags a a hand down between your legs to rub a few good circles against your clit, maneuvering his fingers, and you’re so wet….

it was sloppy.

squelch after squelch. you whimpered, gripping onto his hand to make him rub harder but then he chuckles, lightly swatting your hand away. “oh…?you like that? or you’d prefer for me to finish?”

“f-finish, ‘kuna..”

“then moan for me,” he whispers, giving your skin a soft suck. sukuna starts to bounce his thigh again and you whine. nails piercing into his thighs, you hit your lip before letting off a moan. “see, that wasn’t so hard, now was it, brat,” and he helps you start to grind your hips against him. reaching so deep, your head fell back against him and he lowly guffaws. “yeah, be loud. don’t care who here’s, ‘s just you and me.”

★ GETO SUGURU.

he’d be propped up in between your legs, eating you out like a starved man. you have the courtesy of tying his long, pretty hair back for him.

a few minutes had past yet he was taking his precious time, pressing sweet kisses against your cunt.

you felt yourself throb and flutter, gripping onto his hair and he has a smile.

“love pullin’ on my hair, huh?” he mutters, swiping a thumb against your slit. you happily coat him with your slick than ran down his chin. you gave him a pathetic nod, and you shiver, lips parting from the way geto presses his tongue against your labia — giving it lick after lick.

geto’s raises a brow at the way you’re covering your mouth with a hand, just barely keeping eye contact with him.

he plants a chaste kiss against your pussy before pausing briefly. breaking himself away and now you pout. “…hey,” he murmurs, a coy cunning voice. “stop that, baby.”

“s-stop what?” you hitched, your legs feeling warm. he was so sloppy with his tongue, yet gentle.

“girl, you know what i’m talking about.” a subtle eye-roll, geto sits up from between your legs. his tone was now filled with playfulness yet a bit of sass.

you stare down at him, a few strands occluding his view of vision.

tightly holding onto his hair, he stares at your pussy then at you.

“you’re being all timid and shy. c’mon, ‘s just me. i wanna hear how good i make you feel,” and then he slowly lays his tongue flat against your cunt. “…so…let….me,” he paused between speech. using two fingers to lightly spread open your folds, geto laps his tongue again to taste your sweet. “—finish my meal, and lemme hear you.”

“o-okay.” you stuttered. gritting your teeth for a split second, your legs felt numb and not even moments later.

he ends up coaxing yet another orgasm out of you, your mind goes blank. you were so loud.

he couldn’t help but chuckle at you, how cute you were. with the way your body jerked and squirmed all because of his tongue.

geto gives your pussy a good suck, he knows all the right spots to swirl and run his tongue across.

“there it is,” he hums, and his head goes forward before you yank a bit too hard between your legs. “e-easy, sweetheart. don’t pull my hair out now.”

★ FUSHIGURO TOJI.

toji grunts — two rough hands attached to your waist as he’s got your head pressed against the mattress. you’re biting the sheets with your teeth, strained moans being secluded entirely and toji immediately notices, you feel the curve of his dick throb against you. it was so good, your eyes rolled all the way back, toji’s got your wrists in a good hold before he pauses his sloppy thrusts.

“hmph.”

“w-why’d you stop..” you spat out, your voice was a bit shaky and muffled….solely from the way your teeth tugged against the sheets.

toji’s stubborn and doesn’t reply, and instead, he makes you move your ass up just a bit—yet he pulls out, and you gasp at the feeling of him just rubbing his leaky plump tip against your inner folds.

a few inches and he'd be right back in. you cringed. and you started to whine, face down and ass up, your body felt so hot and tingly.

“t-tojiiii..”

“w-whattt..”

he mocks your voice, and you let off a frustrated sigh, he butchers your tone in the most dramatic way. you don’t even sound like that. “aw, getting frustrated, ey? how come y’er biting the sheets. ya don’t want me to hear you or somethin’—?”

your eyebrows contorted together, and you huffed out a needy breath, back starting to arch idly. “no,” and you feel the tips of your ears grow hot at a scorching temperature—his tip, it was rounded and fat, just swiping against your folds. with just a bit of a push he’d be back inside, but he kept sliding out. “toji, f-finish…finish fucking me.”

“say please.”

you pout, your cheek pressing into the mattress now—desperately craving him to continue. “please…”

“silly girl. ya forgot to say pretty please.”

“toji….” you moaned, craving to feel him again, and he caressed his fingers against your ass, teasing you—a single playful click of his tongue, and he’s got you wrapped around his finger. he starts to make you rollick and move your hips against him, still holding your hips. you grumbled, finally letting off a moan—just wanting him to not tease and finish. “pretty please.”

“good girl,” he purrs softly, dipping his hips against you just slightly before you sit your head up. “now now, lie back,” he mutters, and he starts to go back inside again, a good squeeze and fit and you let off a soft whine once his cock hits there.

you’re seeing blanks, mouth open and all, you whimper before you start getting louder. “there we go….use that whiney voice, jus’ like ya always have, doll.”

[dmitriene]

being simon's riley sweet wife, never does anyone, and he himself, thought he would end up as a married man, but the bond between you goes further than the common surname you wear on your heart and the shared gold rings on your fingers, allowing everyone around you to clearly understand that you belong to each other, neat initials carved into the inside of the ring, hidden.

a lamb and a knife, that's how your bond look in the eyes of others, but if usually a knife intends to slash and harm, simon is the blade that protects you, provides for you, his most important duty is to make sure that you don't need anything, entwined with comfort, for the sake of which he is ready more than to stain his hands with rivers of viscous blood, just so that you don't lift a single finger, because you don't need to, not with him.

the least you can do is wait for him, welcome him with a warm meal on the stove and tender kisses pressed against his bared face, you treat his fresh wounds with clean bandages, you help him wash himself when he's too exhausted to even utter a single word, and there's no way a proper husband can come home and not welcome his wife with a soft coos of gratitude, yet sometimes simon can't even find this needed strength within him to hug you against his chest, and you don't need it.

you know simon enough to know that there's no love in the words uttered, it's in what people do and what paths they are willing to take for you, and he is ready to move mountains, looking at you like a faithful dog, with a sparkle of adoration that is so intransient to the murky depths of his tired, amber eyes, the gentle touches of his calloused hands as he caresses your hands and cups the sides of your face, snuggling up to you in search of comfort, in search of love.

you complete the part of simon that he has been missing, allowing him to feel complete, worthy of the tenderness and adoration you show him, caressing his wounded body and burying your hands in his soul, not resisting his hungry, desperate kisses as he licks into your mouth, squeezing every curve of your supple, warm body between his fingers with longed greed.

and when you part your thighs to his swirling gaze, showing how wet and needy you are under your panties, pussy aching specially for him with oozing slick, thick palm cupping at your clothed mound to sprawl his fingers across the soaked cotton fabric, wedding band glistening under the light right between your puffy folds that twitch at the touch, simon knows you're the best thing that ever happened to him.

main masterlist. quidelines.

[nereidprinc3ss]

bambi

in which spencer reid and fem!reader fuck like they missed each other (because they always do) and he teases her for her shaky legs

18+ (smut) warnings/tags: softdom spencer, piv sex (riding, a first for nereidprinc3ss) /oral f receiving (in that order) mentions of him accidentally grabbing her hips too hard, slight somno SORT OF like he starts going down on her while she’s sleepy and then she kind of goes in and out but its all consensual, sorry haters i fucking love sleepy sex and I always will, teasing, lots of praise, fluffy, established relationship, he loves her badddd, aftercare, literally nothing bad happens no angst for once they just are having sex cause they are in love which is arguably the most superior kind of sex! a/n: I don’t think I’ve ever written smut that is so wham bam thank you ma’am like really we just get RIGHT into it!! also no gif no pics we r going old nereidprinc3ss on this one I hope you loveeee!!!

You roll over onto Spencer and kiss once, long and deep and sweet. He hums into it, too whipped to pretend like he’s got self control or respect, hands finding the soft skin of your bare waist and settling there. 

How it got to this point so quickly, no more than fifteen minutes after he walked through the door, you can’t say. Usually the two of you are a bit more domestic when he gets home from a case, but eight days is a long time to be apart, and the trail of clothing leading from the welcome mat to the foot of the bed attests to that. 

So does the lack of teasing, of begging—at least, a lack up until this point. Right now, there’s only him, patient and content to let you play at being in charge. You pull back and reach down to grab him gently, aligning him at your entrance with a trembling hand. This part, you’re not usually responsible for. 

He assures you with a hand to the small of your back, rubbing soothing circles. “You got it. Slowly.”

You do as he says, brow furrowing in focus as you sink down an inch or two onto him. Spencer’s breathing grows erratic as you take more and more of him, and in a heroic display of overachieving, you take the rest of him at once with nothing but a squeak. He laughs breathily as his fingers dig into your hips. 

“Fuck—I said slow.”

You can’t think. The overwhelm of it all is too much as you crumple forward onto his chest. The subtle rocking you’re doing to try and alleviate some of the pressure in your core is apparently too much as he stops you by the hips, fingers pressing into those same tender spots.

Spencer’s breath is ragged. “Don’t… do not move.”

“Fuck,” you breathe into his shoulder, long and drawn out as despite his wishes you wriggle around, trying to get comfortable. “Oh my god.”

“My lovely girl, please… please don’t move,” Spencer gasps, a plead, and you try to stop for him, nuzzling even deeper against his neck. “I need a minute.”

“It’s too much,” you slur, dizzy as you try to adjust to the feeling. “Please.” You don’t know what you’re asking for. Maybe relief from the sensation that he can’t offer you. Maybe more. 

Spencer is undone by you—the way you writhe on top of him, the way your voice shakes, the way you’re so totally and completely overwhelmed and he can feel it and he loves it. 

“Baby,” he breathes, and he meant to say a lot more than that, but it’s the best he can manage when he is this overstimulated. “Baby,” he whispers again, wrapping his arms around you in an effort to ground you, to give you something else to focus on as you both get used to the feeling. 

It’s going well—for a moment, before your back is arching. 

“Spence, I need to move, I can’t—”

“Okay, okay.” He takes a deep breath, returning his hands to your waist and mentally preparing himself not to cum early. He’s desperate to give you want you want, to feel you like this. “Go ahead. Move, honey. Please.”

By the time you slowly lift your hips up and drop back down with a low cry, Spencer’s lost. His head falls back against the pillow and his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Fuck,” he groans. “Oh, angel, I missed you.”

You do it again, motivated by his praise, and he can hear your little gasps and desperate gulps of air. 

“I missed you so much,” you whine and clench around him, pleasure so intense it’s a resounding ache in the far reaches of your body. “Oh, fuck, Spencer.”

Spencer shivers. He loves when you make it personal, when you say his name like that and it becomes clear this isn’t just about the physical.

“My girl. Just like that. Doing so well, baby, just like that.”

Each pass of your hips has you whining. Your lips skim over his neck, not cognizant enough to actually kiss—only to know that you want the contact. 

“Please can I go faster?”

Spencer almost doesn’t realize you’re speaking to him he’s so lost in pleasure. The idea of faster is as compelling as it is troublesome. Spencer doesn’t know if he can’t take faster, not when he has you like this, but he certainly wants to find out. 

“Yeah, lovely. Do whatever feels good.”

You readjust and begin to pick up the pace, stumbling over a few false starts as it’s clearly more sensation than you’d been prepared for. 

Spencer, on the other hand, has his eyes screwed shut tight, and is attempting to draw a two-dimensional Császár polyhedron on your back, but he loses his place with every twitch of your hips, so eventually he decides to trace imperfect Mandelbrots down your spine—anything to avoid thinking about how the pH of your body interacts with sweet vanilla perfume to create a scent so deeply intoxicating he’d leave his entire life behind just to trail after it, or how you fucking feel against him, on top of him, around him, how miraculous it is that you keep letting him touch you—

“Oh—” you whine quietly, a strangled sort of noise that has his heart skipping. Your hand tangles desperately in his hair as you rock your hips faster and faster and he lets out a tortured groan. “Spencer, oh my fucking god.”

“I know, baby,” he manages, endeared by the fact that you feel so good you have to share it with him. Even now you’re trying to explain it because you want him to be part of it—as if he doesn’t know exactly what you’re feeling already. “That feels good, huh?”

“Mm—f—eels—” you cut yourself off with a cry into the crook of his neck, and he holds the back of your head, vision greying as he stares unseeing at the ceiling because if he looks down this’ll be over too soon. 

“You’re so good,” he breathes, “you’re perfect.”He hears you gasp at the same time as your rhythm falters, and presses a kiss somewhere indiscriminately on your head. “Gonna cum?” He murmurs in your ear, and you nod desperately, rutting against him hopelessly as your thighs tremble from exertion. 

Even the smallest drop-off in friction has his head spinning like he stood up too quickly, so he gives himself enough leverage to start fucking you. You cry out and shift your weight like you’re going to try and evade the feeling—self-sabotage, you always do this—and he again has to hold your hips in an iron vice, just to force you to feel it. 

“You’re okay, I’m gonna get you there.”

“Fuck!” You very nearly yell, still trying to wriggle away up until the very last second like the tide going out before the tsunami comes. When you do cum, your demeanor instantly changes—you get heavy and clingy and whiny as you rock back and forth through your orgasm. 

“Good girl,” Spencer murmurs, being careful in the way he continues to fuck you until he reaches his peak as well, not long after. You shudder, and Spencer feels the way your entire body tenses the way it sometimes does after a particularly strong orgasm, and he fights his way out of the brain fog to rub your back with the skimming tips of his fingers. “Shh. You’re okay. Relax, baby.”

And you do, unwound by the dance of his hand and with a few shallow breaths that gradually deepen, until you’re once more slack on top of him. 

“You’re incredible,” he exhales, with his lips pressed to your hairline. 

So clearly overwhelmed, the only response you can muster is a soft squeak. Spencer laughs fondly, still mapping the soft curve of your back. He feels the way you’re still attempting to train your breathing and kisses your hair again. “What do you need, angel?”

“I’m s’posed to be taking care of you,” you slur. Spencer chuckles again and his brow knits. 

“According to who?”

“According to… I was on top…”

“Yeah. You did all the hard stuff. Your legs are shaking.”

You whine softly. “No they’re not.”

His hand slides down to your thigh, and he rubs the trembling muscles. 

“No? No Bambi legs for me this time?”

You squeeze them around his waist like you could shrink away from his touch. “Spence…”

“I’m teasing you, honey,” he murmurs, pressing kisses wherever he can reach. “You’re cute.”

“Hm.”

“Look at me,” he murmurs, angling his head expectantly as you slowly raise yours. The look on your face is so sweet—eyes half lidded, lips swollen and much higher in color than usual. Your cheek is warm to the touch. His heart flutters like it did on your first date, and the first time he kissed you, and the first time you fell asleep on his shoulder. This view will never get old. “Wow. Look at you, beautiful girl. Can I have a kiss?”

And you grant him his wish, with a long, soft kiss that’s worth every second of that burning feeling in his lungs, every time. 

Eventually you huff out the remainder of your air against his well-kissed lips and your head flops to his chest. 

“I’m sleepy.”

“So go to sleep,” he murmurs, so warm from your kiss he feels nothing could be wrong in the world at this moment. 

“I can’t.”

“Why’s that?”

“’Cause you just got home ’nd I missed you and I wanna spend time with you.”

“We have three days to spend together. If you go to sleep now, we’ll actually get more time together tomorrow.”

“But it’s more about, like, how it feels—how much time it feels like we spend together right when you get home, and if I go to sleep now, it’s gonna feel like less time, and—basically you’re just not understanding my math.”

“What math?” He laughs, continuing to rub your legs all the way up to your hips, at which point you hiss and buck—a very visceral feeling when he’s still inside of you. “What? What hurts?”

“You tried to fucking tear my hip flexors from my body, is what hurts,” you grumble. 

“Tender?”

“Mhm.”

“I’m really sorry, angel. Tylenol?”

“Mm-mm. Can you kiss me better?” Sleep stains your voice. Spencer smiles to himself. 

“Yeah?”

“Mhm.”

“Lie down.”

Again you whine as you slip off of him, landing heavily on your back. He sits up, watches with so much affection the way you squeeze your thighs together and arch ever so slightly against the empty feeling. 

“Spencer?” You whisper as he cups the top of your knees. 

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

He pushes your legs apart gently so he can settle in between them and kisses you again. “I love you. So much.”

“Glad we’re on the same page.”

He presses a kiss to your head, down your neck, taking the scenic route to your hip bones, but you don’t seem to mind. 

The feeling of his lips gentle on the tender flesh has you humming softly, eyes fluttering shut as he showers you with gentle kisses. His traces every place his fingers had pressed earlier—feels the way you relax further underneath him. Nobody’s ever let him in this deeply before, but you trust him with everything you have; your body, your soul, in life or death, awake and in sleep. He’ll never take that for granted. He will never pass on an opportunity like this, to be the one who takes care of you, who puts you back together, as long as you’ll let him. 

Still dancing the line of consciousness, you part your legs, the slow drag of your bare thigh like a jumper cable to his heart. Fingertips trace desirous paths up your inner thigh and back down again. He recognizes this invitation for what it is, and he knows exactly how to give you what you want, but he asks first anyway. 

“Was that on purpose?”

“I d’know what you mean. I’m so sleepy,” you slur, and he believes the second half of your statement to be fact. 

Spencer pushes your thigh a little higher, and you’re completely pliable for him, completely gorgeous. As soon as he skims your thigh with a barely-there kiss, exactly the way you like, you’re lacing a hand in his hair. 

“Please, Spence…” you murmur, and he can’t argue with that. He especially can’t argue when you widen your legs just that slightest bit more, and your arousal is opalescent between your legs. 

He hums, trailing more kisses up until he’s setting the softest one yet against your clit. “Beautiful girl…”

The following gasp is so tiny he could’ve missed it if he wasn’t so attuned to your noises—and then he gets lost in you, making sure to keep his ministrations light as you already came twice recently and are sure to be sensitive. He doesn’t want to wake you from whatever twilight half-slumber trance you’re in, either, sensing that if he does you’ll fight all over again to stay up.

And admittedly, he adores being trusted to take care of you like this.

Your back arches as much as you’re capable of in this state, and he can’t help the way he just barely suctions onto you at that moment, coaxing a sighing moan so sweet and vulnerable and open it gives him chills. Fuck. He really wants to make you cum. But instead he practices patience, tracing you with the tip of his tongue, pressing gentle kisses everywhere you need them—he draws it out. For he doesn’t know how long. 

The first time you get close, your hips begin to roll, and you spout little ah’s, but he talks you back down again, laughing lightly at your angelic cooing, your little sounds of sleepy pleasure. Even now you’re so responsive, moving against his mouth as he slips a finger into your soaked entrance, fucks you for a moment, and then retreats. Maybe he’s being unfair, but you don’t seem to mind. 

In fact, you’re slipping in and out of sleep as he devours you for what feels like hours, one hand pressed lovingly to your stomach, stroking the soft skin there. Spencer’s never had this long to explore you with his mouth and he takes full advantage of every moment, but he keeps all his kisses and licks and touches gentle and reverent and so loving. 

You don’t know how long it’s been, or how many times he’s made you cum when he finally retreats—you half-wake just as he’s finishing cleaning you up. Soon he tosses the towel aside and presses feather-light kisses to each of your cheeks, tear-stained and warm with pleasure. You feel completely drained and completely loved. 

“Hi, sleeping beauty,” he murmurs, climbing into bed with you, at some point having gotten dressed. 

You manage an embarrassed little laugh. More tears crawl down your cheeks as you roll to your side. Spencer brushes them away and pulls you into him, slinging your thigh over his waist. He chuckles. 

“Shaky?”

“Stop,” you whine, embarrassed by his teasing, and hide your face against his chest. “That’s not my fault.”

“It’s nobody’s fault. It’s sweet,” he insists as he rubs your back. And then, a moment later, “So—do you think we’ve spent enough time together for tonight?”

“No.”

He sighs good-naturedly. 

“You’re gonna wear me out, you know that?”

“’F you… can’t handle the heat… get outta the kitchen.”

When he next speaks you can hear the smile in his voice. 

“Go to sleep, Bambi. Let’s see if you can walk in the morning.”