#little glimpse of collarbones and chest hair

[pandapetals]

Like A Dream

logan howlett x !reader - fluff, short blurb, romantic, Logan POV, cuteness, no mention of Y/N, no description of you given.

Logan comes back to his room to find you sleeping in his bed.

read on Ao3

Logan slipped into his room, the faint light of dawn just beginning to filter through the window, casting a soft glow on the bed. His muscles ached from the mission, but the sight that greeted him sent a jolt of something else through his tired body.

You were there, curled up in his covers, just like you had been before. Yet this time, the summer heat had made its presence known. The air felt heavy, even the hum of the A/C working overtime couldn’t break the lingering warmth.

A soft creak echoed through the quiet room as he shut the door behind him, his eyes immediately drawn to your bare leg peeking out from beneath the rumpled sheets. One limb tangled in the blankets, the other sprawled freely across the bed. A slow breath escaped him.

As he peeled off his sweat-soaked clothes, his gaze traveled over you, lingering on the sliver of skin revealed by the tank top that had slipped off your shoulder. The thin straps clung weakly to your collarbone, the fabric riding up just enough to expose the curve of your waist.

His throat tightened as his eyes continued downward. The lacy fabric of your underwear barely clung to your hips, framing the soft curves that made his pulse quicken. The sheets, half-tossed aside, did little to hide the way your body shifted with every slow breath.

Logan swallowed hard, the warmth of the room now somehow more oppressive. His body tensed, resisting the urge to reach out, his hand hovering inches from your skin before retreating. Instead, he slipped into bed beside you, careful not to disturb the delicate lines of your sleep, though every inch of him felt pulled toward you.

Logan settled beside you, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight. He kept his movements slow, almost too careful, trying not to disturb the peace of your sleep. Yet, even the faintest shift of the bed seemed to ripple between you both.

His eyes lingered on your profile, the soft rise and fall of your chest, your breath steady, untouched by the heat that still clung to the room. One of the thin straps of your tank top had slipped even further down your arm, and a strand of hair rested gently against your cheek, half-hidden by the pillow.

His hand hovered again, the urge to touch almost magnetic. He clenched his fist briefly, fingers pressing into the rough fabric of the sheets as if grounding himself.

Not now, he told himself, not like this.

But you stirred.

Just the faintest movement, the flutter of your lashes, the way your body stretched and curled again, the kind of stretch that pulled the fabric of your top even tighter against you, revealing a glimpse of bare skin at your waist.

Logan’s jaw tensed as he exhaled slowly. He was exhausted—his body, his mind—but there was something about this moment, about you, that kept him tethered, awake.

Another minute passed, maybe more. Then, without opening your eyes, you shifted again, rolling slightly toward him. Your arm moved, brushing against his bare chest. It was a small gesture, barely noticeable, but to Logan, it might as well have been a bolt of electricity. His heart thudded harder in his chest.

You murmured something in your sleep, something soft and unintelligible, your lips parting as your brow furrowed in a fleeting dream. Logan's eyes traced every line of your face, his breath now shallow. He had been with you like this before, waking up beside you, the comfort of your presence an unspoken constant in his life. But this moment, this heat, this closeness—there was something new in the air, something unspoken yet undeniable.

Before he could catch himself, his hand drifted, fingers lightly grazing your exposed shoulder, the skin warm beneath his touch. The contact was barely there, just enough to make him feel the softness of you, the reality that you were here, with him, while the rest of the world blurred into the background.

You stirred again, this time more fully. Your eyes fluttered open, squinting against the faint morning light. For a brief moment, confusion clouded your expression, as if you were still caught between the haze of sleep and waking. But when your gaze met Logan’s, everything seemed to snap into focus.

“Logan?” Your voice was groggy, still thick with sleep, but laced with something else—surprise, maybe, or warmth. Your hand moved instinctively, resting on his arm as if to confirm he was really there. 

“Yeah, it’s me,” he whispered, his voice low, rough from both exhaustion and the pull of something deeper.

You blinked a few times, still adjusting to the sight of him. “What time is it?”

“Too early,” he replied with a half-smirk, though his eyes hadn’t left yours.

You shifted closer, your leg brushing against his under the covers, and the simple touch sent a spark racing up his spine. It was a casual intimacy, the kind that should’ve felt easy after all the time you’d spent together. But at this moment, it felt charged, like every small movement carried a weight neither of you could fully name.

“I didn’t mean to fall asleep here,” you murmured, though there was no apology in your tone, just a quiet acknowledgment. “I just missed you.”

Logan’s gaze flickered down to the curve of your lips before he answered. “Didn’t mind. I like finding you here.”

The silence that followed was thick, not uncomfortable but filled with something unsaid. His hand, still resting on your shoulder, slid down to your upper arm, the touch now more deliberate, more present. You didn’t pull away. If anything, you seemed to lean into it, your body relaxing further into his as if drawn by gravity itself.

The hum of the A/C broke through the quiet again, the odd noises filling the room, but neither of you seemed to notice this time. All that mattered was the steady beat of your breaths, now almost in sync, and the slow realization that something between you had shifted, subtly but irreversibly.

You were awake now, fully, your eyes locked onto him, searching, waiting. There was a question in your gaze, one that hadn’t been asked yet but hovered between you like a fragile thread.

Logan’s thumb brushed your arm, his voice dropping to a whisper. “You should probably put that strap back up,” he said, his smirk returning, but there was a heat in his eyes that betrayed the teasing tone.

You let out a soft laugh, low and warm, though you made no move to fix your top. Instead, you shifted even closer, your body now pressed against his in a way that left no room for pretense.

“Maybe I don’t want to,” you whispered back, your breath brushing his lips, daring him to close the distance.

Logan’s heart thudded against his ribcage, the heat between you now undeniable, the room feeling smaller, the air thicker. His fingers drifted to the side of your face, gently tucking that errant strand of hair behind your ear. His thumb lingered, tracing the line of your jaw as he leaned in, every inch of him attuned to you.

This time, he didn’t hold back.

[warpedwings]

Misha's 2020 Quarantine Beard.

If Misha shaves the beard, do you think he'll have Maison do it again? 🤣

[Source]

@sunglassesmish Do you see the shirtless situation, with the chest hair?? 👀

[yvesette]

WE GOT MARRIED!

ִ ࣪𖤐 ۪ ݁ 𓈒 ── choi seungcheol

SUMMARY: ── the premise of the popular reality show, "we got married," was simple: you and another celebrity would pretend to be married for two weeks, navigating various romantic and domestic challenges together. when your partner turns out to be choi seungcheol however, feelings complicate your perception of reality.

PAIRING: [choi seungcheol (s.coups) x f!reader] GENRE: [eventual smut, domestic fluff, angst, idol!au, fake dating, one bed, all the good shit]

CW: afab!reader, nicknames (angel, babygirl, baby, good girl), arguing (it’s sorted out), soft!dom ?? + pussydrunk cheol, big!dick cheol, fingering, penetration, safe sex (ofc), possessive!cheol, hair pulling, light choking

      ℘　　◌　　﹒　⠀ ꢾ꣒⠀　 ׅ⠀ㅤ　⑅

── pre-show interview:

interviewer: "thank you for joining us today! can you tell us a little about yourself and what initially made you hesitant to join 'we got married'?"

you fiddle with your hands and compose yourself into a smile.

“of course. i’m y/n, and to be honest, when i was first approached about the show, i had a lot of reservations. being an idol, my life is already under constant scrutiny, and the idea of faking a marriage on national television was daunting. i was worried about how my fans would react and whether I'd be able to genuinely connect with my on-screen partner."

interviewer: "what eventually convinced you to participate?"

you think, “it was a mix of curiosity and encouragement from my friends and management. they believed it would be a good opportunity for me to show a different side of myself, one that isn't always visible on stage. plus, the idea of experiencing something as unique as a reality show marriage was too intriguing to pass up."

interviewer: "do you know who your partner will be yet?

you smile nervously, “no, i don't. it’s a complete surprise for me. all i know is that it's someone from a well-known group. i’m really curious to find out who it is!"

interviewer: "that must be exciting! can you share what your ideal type is for the camera?”

you grin thoughtfully, “my ideal type is someone who is kind-hearted and takes care of the people around them. they should have a strong sense of responsibility but also listen and understand. a good sense of humor is a must — oh and physically, i guess i find myself drawn to someone with a warm smile and expressive eyes. someone who can be both charismatic on stage and down-to-earth in everyday life."

interviewer: "finally, do you have any worries or concerns going into the show?"

you: "i’m a bit worried about how awkward it might be at first. there’s always that initial nervousness when meeting someone new, and this situation is quite intense. i hope we can get past that quickly and have a good time together.”

—

day 1:

you stood in front of the door to a luxurious townhome, hands fidgeting nervously at your sides. this would be your new home for the next two weeks. the camera crew gave you a nod, signaling it was time to head inside. taking a deep breath, you open the door and step into the living room, where a warm, cozy ambiance greets you. as you set your bag down, you hear the sound of the front door opening again. you turn, breath caught in your throat, and a man, looking slightly familiar to you, enters the room.

he was wearing a white button-down shirt with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, paired with dark jeans that accentuated his tall, athletic frame. his broad shoulders and well-defined chest were subtly outlined by the fabric of his shirt, hinting at the strength beneath. the open collar revealed a glimpse of his collarbones, which added an effortlessly sexy touch to his appearance and you thanked god you’d been paired with someone this attractive, as selfish as it sounded. his face was a perfect blend of boyish charm and mature masculinity and his dark hair was styled in a slightly tousled manner.

the man in front of you carried a polite smile. for a moment, you both stood there, slightly taken aback by the reality of the situation.then, as if on cue, you both bowed to each other in polite, awkward unison. "hello!" you said at the same time, voices overlapping. realizing what happened, you both laughed nervously and bowed again, this time with even more formality.

“hi, i’m y/n," you said, smiling despite your nerves.

“i’m seungcheol. it’s nice to meet you,” he said, returning your smile.

there was a brief pause as you both sized each other up, trying to gauge the other's reaction. something about him seemed familiar, but you couldn't quite place it.

your heart skipped a beat as recognition dawned on you and you remembered his face from music and award shows. you were almost certain the man in front of you was a member of seventeen and your mind was almost more eased you were paired with another idol.

as you shook his hand, your mind raced with a million thoughts. should you mention that you know who he is? would it be weird? awkward?

before you could decide, seungcheol spoke again, his voice cheerful and inviting, “i know this is a bit of an odd situation, but let's make these two weeks memorable, okay?”

you nodded, unable to tear your gaze away from his face and your cheeks flushed slightly.

the first task was to explore the house together, finding little notes and hints left by the producers about upcoming challenges and activities. as you moved from room to room, seungcheol’s playful nature shined through. he made jokes about the odd decorations and even tried on an oversized apron in the kitchen, to which he realized how easily he could make you laugh.

in the living room, you found a note instructing you to cook your first meal together. seungcheol looked at you with genuine curiosity in his eyes. "do you cook often?"

you shook your head, “i try, but i’m not the best. how about you?”

he shrugged, “i can manage, could you hand me those eggs?”

working side by side in the kitchen, you both stumbled through the recipe, exchanging glances and giggles as you tried to make sense of the instructions. seungcheol’s presence was comforting; his easygoing demeanor made it feel less like a staged activity and you had to remind yourself of your situation every once in a while.

“careful!" you warned as he nearly knocked over a bowl of flour.

“oops," he laughed, catching it just in time. "oh my god, thanks for warning me.”

when the meal was finally ready, you both sat down at the coffee table, a sense of accomplishment and camaraderie settling in.

“you know," he says, his voice low and conspiratorial, "i have to admit, i was a bit of a fan of yours before this."

you almost spit out your food and your eyes widen in surprise, “you were?”

he nodded, a shy smirk playing on his lips. "yeah, i may or may not have listened to…a few, songs.”

you couldn't help but laugh, feeling a rush of disbelief, “well," you said, unable to hide the smile on your face, "i guess we both have some fangirling/fanboying to do then.”

seungcheol chuckled before taking a sip of his drink, “looks like we're off to a good start then."

later that evening, as you both settled on the couch to go over the day's events, you found yourself stealing glances at seungcheol when he wasn't looking. the cameras captured every moment, but by now, they had become background noise. seungcheol’s arm rested casually on the back of the couch, his presence reassuring.

"so what did you think of our first day together?" seungcheol asked, turning to you with a gentle smile.

you smiled back, feeling more at ease now. "honestly , it was fun. a bit overwhelming at first, but i think we handled it pretty well."

he nodded, his expression thoughtful. "yeah , i think so too. it’s all about getting comfortable with each other, right?"

you laughed softly, nodding in agreement. "exactly."

as the night continued, the two of you talked about your experiences in the industry, sharing stories and laughing over funny moments. the more you talked, the more you realized how much you had in common. it was easy to forget the cameras were even there.

—

day 5:

it had been a few days of filming and your arranged marriage with the charming seungcheol was off to an...interesting start. between the awkward getting-to-know-you interviews and staged "newlywed" activities for the cameras, you were still trying to find your footing in this bizarre situation.

one minute, you and seungcheol were bickering like an old married couple over whose turn it was to do the dishes, (it would always end with him insisting he did the chore.) the next, you'd catch him shooting you an ambiguous look from under those ridiculously long lashes, causing a fluttery feeling to erupt in your stomach. it was a constant back-and-forth of feeling flustered yet intrigued by your new husband.

today, the production crew had you and seungcheol participate in a silly pillow fight "challenge" meant to showcase your playful newlywed dynamic. what started off as an innocent, goofy bout of whacking each other with the plush objects quickly devolved into an all-out war.

giggling breathlessly, you launched another fluffy projectile at seungcheol’s head, who had now affectionately insisted you call him cheol.

he taunted with a roguish grin, deflecting your pillow attack.

you both scrambled for ammunition, whacking each other relentlessly. you shrieked as a particularly fierce blow sent you tumbling backwards onto the bed.

in a flash, seungcheol pounced - pinning your wrists above your head as he straddled your waist. his sculpted body pressed against yours, stealing your breath away.

"i win," he murmured huskily, drinking in your flushed, disheveled state. a few dark strands of hair had fallen over his forehead, making him look ridiculously pretty and you both froze as the heated tension reached a tipping point, chests heaving from the exertion of your pillow fight.

then, all at once, realization seemed to wash over both of you. this had crossed a line, strayed too far from the realm of pretend into something that felt a little too real for your comfort. seungcheol quickly released your wrists and rolled off you, running a flustered hand through his tousled hair as the cameras cut and the producers applaud your chemistry ‘played up’ for the show.

“i…sorry, i got a bit carried away there," he muttered gruffly, unable to meet your eyes.

you pushed yourself into a sitting position, clutching a pillow protectively to your chest. “no, it's...yeah, me too," you mumbled, cheeks burning.

as seungcheol swiftly excused himself, you couldn't shake the feeling that something deeper and more complicated had been irrevocably awakened on your end, you watched your fake husband’s broad back retreating towards the door, then he paused and glanced over his shoulder at you.

despite the flustered awkwardness of moments before, his gaze openly raked over your disheveled form in a way that made heat lick through your veins. you clutched the pillow tighter, suddenly feeling very exposed under his molten perusal.

as quickly as the blazing look had appeared, it faded to a neutral expression once more as he gave you a brisk nod. "i’ll...see you later," he murmured in a rough rasp before ducking out of the room, leaving you flushed and wondering what the hell had just happened.

—

day 9:

the sweltering summer heat had prompted the producers to film a scene with you and seungcheol enjoying some relaxation at the rooftop pool.

you tried not to stare too openly as seungcheol stripped off his shirt, revealing a toned, sculpted torso that made your mouth go dry. rivulets of glistening water trailed tantalizing paths down those firm abs as he sank into the cool pool with a contented sigh.

“you coming in or what, y/n?" he flashed you a lopsided grin, sending your pulse into an erratic stutter.

shaking yourself free of your momentary thirst, you made a big show of daintily dipping a toe in to test the temperature, “oh my god it’s freezing.” you step out of the water onto the poolside and shiver from the contact.

cheol arches an incredulous brow at your overly dramatic reaction. then without warning, he kicked up an arched wave that splashed you squarely in the face.

you sputtered in outraged shock as he cackled at your drenched, bedraggled state. you cursed at him and then tilted your head, “oh you’re gonna get it now…”

retaliating, you cannonballed directly towards him, prompting a yelp as he tried dodging the cascading wall of water.

what started as an innocent pool dip quickly devolved into an all-out splash fight, filled with laughter and shrieks, water spraying everywhere. at one point, seungcheol grabbed you around the waist from behind, holding you flush against his chest as you squealed and squirmed playfully...

as the sun dipped low on the horizon, it set the sky ablaze with vibrant shades of orange and red bled across the heavens, intermingling with streaks of brilliant pink and lavender. the surface of the rooftop pool shimmered like liquid amber, endlessly rippling and refracting the spectacular colors above.

as the playful battle subsided, you found yourselves standing chest-deep, catching your breath. seungcheol, hair plastered to his forehead, offered you a sheepish grin. his hand, reaching out to brush a stray strand from your eye, hesitated in mid-air.

the air crackled with a sudden tension, a shift from playful banter to something more intense. you held his gaze, unsure of where this unexpected touch might lead. the playful facade, for a moment, seemed to falter, revealing a vulnerability that sent a shiver down your spine.

as the camera crew wrapped their filming of the segment momentarily, cheol leaned against the pool deck, catching his breath, while you treaded water, a satisfied smile playing on your lips.

“you know," seungcheol said, his voice slightly breathless, "for someone who almost drowned me with pool water ten minutes ago - you’re pretty fun to do this whole fake marriage this with.”

his compliment caught you off guard, a blush creeping up your cheeks. you looked away, fiddling with the straps of your swimsuit and snorted, “you would have survived, trust.”

you bit your lip, “but you’re not…awful, to do this with. i’m glad it was you.”

his biceps flexed as he pushed himself off the wall, the water cascading down his toned arms. he smiled and ran a hand through his hair, which was now drying in messy waves.

you had to admit to yourself, in another situation, he was pretty close to your type. your mind took a sharp turn and a thrilling image of cheol, those big arms holding you close, pinning you down. he could easily manhandle you, and the thought sent a forbidden thrill through you.

taking a deep breath, you forced your gaze away from him, the delicious heat replaced by a cold wave of reality.

—

that evening, the producers insisted that as a "newly married couple," you and seungcheol needed to share the bedroom set for an authentic experience. your heart pounded as the camera crew ushered you both into the dimly lit bedroom, pulling the covers back invitingly.

"alright you two, get nice and cozy for us!" the director called out teasingly. "we’ll get some candid footage of your first night spent in the same room together as husband and wife."

you shot seungcheol an awkward look, but he just gave you a reassuring smile as he slipped an arm around your waist, pulling you close. the cameras rolled as you climbed stiffly into bed together, maintaining a prim distance at first.

however, as soon as the crew lights winked off and you were left in intimate shadows, cheol’s touch grew bolder. his arm snaked more fully around you, hand skimming along your curves as he tugged you flush against his solid frame and he watched your face for approval.

"just go with it for the cameras," he murmured in your ear, making you shiver at the feel of his warm breath fanning your neck.

you gave a shaky nod, trying to ignore the rampant spiraling spawning low in your belly from his nearness. but as the man next to you nuzzled his face into the crook of your neck, letting out a contented sigh, you felt yourself instinctively relaxing into his embrace.

before long, the camera crew was dismissing themselves, leaving you and seungcheol tangled together intimately. you started to pull away, murmuring about giving him some space, but his arms only tightened around you.

“stay," he rumbled in that deep velvety tone that made heat curl low in your belly. "please. just for tonight."

you couldn't help but overthink the situation as you lay cocooned in seungcheol’s strong arms later that night. his slow, even breathing tickled the nape of your neck as he slumbered peacefully behind you.

this whole scenario - cuddling intimately, sharing a bed, his persistent insistence that you stay - it was quickly becoming difficult for you to differentiate reality and the fake of your friendship, or whatever you could call it.

realistically, there was no way seungcheol actually had romantic feelings for you, right? you were just some virtual stranger he'd been assigned to act affectionate towards for the sake of entertainment.

no, you reasoned to yourself, cheol was simply an incredibly dedicated performer who happened to be devastatingly good-looking. he was merely playing the role of an infatuated newlywed husband exceptionally well. all those lingering looks, the electrifying touches, the way he'd pulled you insistently into his embrace - it was just him staying committed to the act. you were just a tolerable person for him to pretend to be married to for the cameras. that’s all this was. if you started projecting more meaning onto your partner’s actions, reading into lingering touches and heated glances, you'd only end up getting your hopes up and complicating things.

chewing your lip, you willed yourself not to dwell on the intimacy of your current position - pressed snugly back against his toned chest, legs tangled together, breaths mingling. it didn’t mean anything. he was just...really, really good at making this fake marriage feel real.

you lay there for a long while, keenly aware of every rise and fall of seungcheol’s chest against your back, the whisper of his warm breath fanning your nape. his arm was a solid, heated band around your waist, anchoring you to his slumbering form.

carefully, you began extracting yourself from his arms, trying not to rouse him. he made a soft grumbling sound of protest as you slipped out of bed, his arm reflexively tightening for a moment before falling away. you froze, watching him with bated breath, but he merely rolled onto his back with a gusty sigh, face relaxing back into peaceful slumber.

for a long moment, you simply stood there drinking in the sight of him - all tousled ebony hair, chiseled features, lips slightly parted as he slumbered. your heart gave a powerful thud, desperate longing temporarily overwhelming rationality.

then, you wrenched your gaze away, wrapping your arms around yourself as you crept towards the door on soft feet and went to your separate bedroom. this was for the best. putting some distance between you before things inevitably became more tangled and awkward.

—

day 12:

"you’re burning it!" seungcheol suddenly exclaimed, pointing at the pan on the stove where the sauce was starting to smoke.

by late afternoon, you were both working on preparing dinner in the kitchen. the producers had given you a complex recipe to follow, and the pressure was mounting. seungcheol was chopping vegetables while you tried to manage the stove, but things weren't going as planned.

you glanced over, feeling flustered. "i know, i know! i’m trying to fix it!"

"well, you need to do it faster! we can't serve burnt food," he retorted, his tone sharper than you expected.

you felt a surge of irritation. "why don't you come over here and do it then if you're so concerned?"

seungcheol put down the knife he was holding, his jaw tightening. "i’m just trying to help. there’s no need to get defensive."

you turn off the stove and face him, your frustration boiling over. "it feels like you're criticizing everything i’m doing. this is supposed to be fun but—“ you sigh.

seungcheol’s expression softened slightly, but he didn't back down. "i’m not trying to criticize you. i’m just stressed because i want this to turn out well. we’re both under a lot of pressure.”

his words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. you felt a warmth bloom in your cheeks, a prickling awareness that transcended the confines of the tiny kitchen. it wasn't just the heat from the stove anymore; it was the sudden, electrifying tension that crackled between you.

whatever this "show marriage" was quickly becoming, it was growing increasingly difficult to remember it wasn't real.

his gaze held yours, a storm brewing in his dark eyes. was it just the stress of the competition, or was there something more? maybe it was the way his thumb brushed against yours as he reached for a spatula, a touch that lingered a beat too long. maybe it was the way his voice seemed to drop an octave whenever he spoke directly to you.

the air grew thick, the playful banter of the morning replaced by a charged silence. you weren't talking simply about cooking anymore. this felt like something more, something simmering beneath the surface, threatening to boil over.

suddenly, a loud clang from the living room shattered the spell. the cameraman had accidentally knocked over a vase, the sound breaking the intimate bubble you'd somehow created. seungcheol offered a grin of reconciliation, the tension momentarily broken.

as you both cleaned up the broken vase, a playful jab exchanged here and there, you couldn't shake the feeling that cheol’s feelings for you mirrored your own. maybe it was just wishful thinking, fueled by the close proximity and manufactured intimacy of the show. but a tiny, hopeful spark ignited within you. perhaps, just perhaps, this fake marriage could be a gateway into something else.

the air crackled with an unspoken apology after your argument in the kitchen. the rest of the day was filmed in a tense silence, punctuated only by the polite pleasantries expected for the cameras. seungcheol stole glances at you every now and then, his gaze laced with regret, but you studiously avoided his eyes.

dinner was a quiet affair, the weight of the fight hanging heavy between you. as the last crew member packed up their equipment and said their goodbyes, a heavy sigh escaped seungcheol’s lips. you remembered you only had two more days left with him before you parted ways and continued your daily, busy lives.

you lean against the doorframe of cheol’s assigned bedroom. he’s reading something foreign and doesn’t notice your presence at first. "hey," you started hesitantly, the artificiality of your fabricated married life suddenly feeling suffocating. he looked up, his eyes filled with a vulnerability you hadn't seen before.

"i shouldn't have snapped at you," he said, his voice rough. "this whole thing... the pressure, the cameras... it just — you know, gets to me sometimes.”

you understood. the world only saw the polished, perfect idols on stage, not the stress and anxieties that gnawed at them behind the scenes. partially this show felt like a risk of balance between speculation and approval. “i know," you admitted softly, surprised at the tremor in your voice. "it gets to me too."

silence settled again, but this time it wasn't tense. it was a comfortable quiet, an unspoken understanding blooming between you.

you took a seat on the mattress and asked him what he was reading.

“amour,” he says, flipping the book over to show you the cover.

“amour?" you asked, raising an eyebrow. "isn’t that french for love?"

cheol rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly. "yeah, it is. found it at the airport bookstore. it’s about a journalist who travels around france asking people about love."

a playful glint sparked in your eyes. "funny," you said, tracing the title with your finger, “didn’t know you were such a romantic.”

a wry smile tugged at the corner of seungcheol's lips. "maybe i’m just curious," he said, his voice dropping to a low murmur that made you nervous. "especially after all this... 'pretend' marriage stuff." he paused, his gaze flickering from the book to your face. "maybe the line between pretending and feeling is a little more blurry than we thought."

he words hung in the air, heavy with unspoken meaning. the playful banter you'd used as a shield these past 2 weeks suddenly felt inadequate. you met his gaze, the air crackling with a new kind of tension.

"maybe it is," you admitted, your voice barely a whisper.

the glint in your eyes softened into something deeper, something that mirrored the sudden intensity in cheol’s gaze. he set his book down on the nightstand with a soft thud, the sound swallowed by the heavy silence that had descended upon the room.

he took a slow movement towards you across the bed, his eyes searching yours with a depth that made your breath catch. you could practically feel the unspoken question hanging in the air, a question your heart already knew the answer to. there was a palpable tension between you, an invisible thread pulling you closer.

without another word, seungcheol closed the remaining distance between you. his hand reached out to cup your cheek, his touch sending a jolt of electricity through you. his thumb brushed against your soft skin, a gentle caress that spoke volumes. it was as if he was trying to communicate everything he felt in that simple touch, the unspoken emotions and the growing connection between you.

his eyes flickered down to your lips before meeting your gaze again, asking for permission without uttering a single word. you gave a small, almost imperceptible nod, your heart pounding in your chest.

then, he leaned in. the kiss was hesitant at first, a soft exploration that tasted of unspoken longing and a newfound vulnerability. hips lips were warm and tender against yours, moving with a gentleness that made your heart ache and charged with the electricity of forbidden desire and the sweetness of a connection that transcended the cameras and the manufactured reality of your "marriage."

as the kiss deepened, seungcheol’s other hand found its way to your waist, pulling you closer. you responded instinctively, your hands sliding up to rest on his broad shoulders. the world outside seemed to fade away, leaving just the two of you in that moment. the kiss grew more passionate, an unspoken promise of the bond forming between you.

his fingers threaded through your hair, tilting your head slightly to deepen the kiss. the heat of his body pressed against yours, and you could feel the rapid beat of his heart mirroring your own. every touch, every movement was filled with a mix of tenderness and urgency, a dance of emotions that neither of you could deny any longer.

in one swift movement, seungcheol lifted you onto his lap, his strong arms wrapping around you securely. the sudden shift made you gasp, breaking the kiss momentarily. he took advantage of your parted lips, diving back in with a new intensity. his hand tangled in your hair, gripping it roughly as he deepened the kiss. the raw hunger in his actions satisfied a need you’d had since the moment you met him and ignited a new thirst in you for more than a kiss.

his lips left yours, trailing hot kisses down your jaw and neck. seungcheol’s breath was warm against your skin, each kiss sending shivers down your spine. "cheol-ie," you breathed out, your voice shaky with desire. "i’ve needed you so bad.”

he groaned against your neck, the sound vibrating through you and making your core tighten with need. "you have no idea how much I’ve wanted you babygirl,” he murmured, his voice rough with longing. the nickname makes you feel weak in his arms as they roam over your back, pulling you closer until there was no space left between you.

you began to move against him, grinding your hips down on his lap. the friction elicited a deep, guttural moan from his chest, his grip on your hair tightening. his lips continued their path along your neck, sucking and nibbling at the sensitive skin. each touch, each kiss, was driving you both closer to the edge.

your hands slid under his shirt, desperate to feel his skin against yours and see the body you’d thought about and fantasized about at the pool. his muscles tensed under your touch, and he let out another low groan. the sound sent a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, making you grind harder against him.

feeling the need for more, you reached for the hem of your top, and without hesitation, cheol’s hands followed suit, helping you remove the garment until it fell forgotten to the floor. his eyes drank in the sight before him, the intensity of his gaze sending a thrill through you. with a passion that matched your own, he leaned in to capture your lips in a feverish kiss, his movements urgent and commanding.

seungcheol’s hands moved to your breasts, his touch sending electric pulses of pleasure coursing through your body. his lips followed suit, trailing hot kisses down your neck and collarbone before finding their way to your exposed skin. the sensation of his warm mouth on your sensitive flesh made you gasp, a moan escaping your lips as you arched into his touch.

as he sucked and massaged your breasts with a hunger that bordered on desperation, you couldn't help but whine his name, the sound echoing in the room like a symphony of desire.

his only response was a deep, guttural groan, the sound vibrating through you.

cheol’s hands moved to your hips, guiding your movements and matching your rhythm. the sensation of his hardness pressing against you was intoxicating, heightening the desire coursing through your veins. “i need you," he whispered hoarsely against your neck, his breath hot and heavy.

you pulled back slightly, just enough to look into his eyes. the intensity you saw there took your breath away. "i need you too, cheol," you whispered back, your voice filled with the same raw need.

"show me," he commanded, his voice dropping to a low, authoritative tone. "show me how much you want me."

you bit your lip and your mind was urging you to shed the last remnants of clothing separating you from seungcheol’s touch. with a sense of urgency, you sat up, for just a moment to rid yourself of your pajama shorts and panties. he gently helped you slip out of the remainder of your clothes until you were completely bare in front of him.

as you returned to straddle him, seungcheol’s eyes darkened with possessiveness, his slightly dumbfounded gaze raking over your exposed form with undisguised lust. you reached for his hand, guiding it to where you needed him most.

his fingers moved in circles with a skill and reverence that bordered on worship. as he teased and caressed you with one hand, his other grabbed the back of your neck to pull you into his orbit.

"cheol," you gasped, your voice filled with need as his touch sent waves of pleasure crashing over you. "pl-please, want you inside of me..”

his response was a low, guttural growl, the sound sending shivers down your spine. he pressed his fingers against your throbbing center, the sensation driving you crazy, and leaned against your ear, “i know angel, i know, need to prep you.”

he slipped two long fingers inside you, his movements slow and deliberate. you couldn't help but arch impossibly back into his touch, a high pitched moan escaping your lips as he filled you completely. his fingers curled inside you and slipped in and out, stretching you and sending waves of pleasure over you that you could feel building closer and closer to your climax.

cheol pulled your face closer to his by your neck as he pumped his fingers in and out of you and whispered in his deep voice words of praise, “you’re so good for me.” his voice was rough in responsive to your obedience.

“such a good girl.”

the words sent a thrill through you, and your breathing that had gotten more quick by the second let all the air escape from your lungs as you completely gave in to the sensations in your body. you reached your peak screaming his name and collapsing onto the bed with your back. now on top of you, cheol guided you down from your high, and his movements became slower and more gentle until his fingers pulled out of you.

you felt his hand move to your lips, gently pressing against them. with a mix of hesitation and curiosity, you parted your lips, allowing cheol to guide his fingers inside your mouth so you could taste yourself.

“that’s it babygirl,” he said, a low groan escaping his lips. the sight of you, so willing and eager for his touch, only fueled the fire burning inside of him. he pulls his fingers from your mouth to press gentle kisses on your lips and your cheek - a sharp contrast from the intensity that had taken over him before.

as the passion of the moment continued to build, you couldn't help but notice the unmistakable hardness pressing against your thigh. seungcheol’s arousal was evident, his desire matching your own in its fervor. a surge of need washed over you, and you found yourself craving him in a way that was almost overwhelming.

desperation clawed at your insides, urging you to beg for him, to plead with him to take you in his arms and fuck you until you saw stars. but as you glanced into his eyes, you saw a flicker of uncertainty, a hint of fear lurking beneath the surface.

you reached for him, your fingers tracing the outline of his arousal through his pants. the intensity of his desire was palpable, sending a jolt of electricity coursing through you. you wanted him, needed him, in a way that bordered on obsession. but as you moved to undo his pants, you felt him hesitate, his hands shaking slightly. "i…i don’t know if i can," he whispered hoarsely, his voice filled with a sigh.

you whispered, your voice soft and filled with sincerity. "i want this, with you."

a flicker of relief flashed across his features, his shoulders relaxing slightly at your words. but the worry still lingered in his eyes, the fear of causing you pain evident in every line of his expression. he reached down to free his member from the confines of his sweatpants, discarding the clothing with a swift movement. as his length sprang free, you couldn't help but gasp at the sight before you. he was almost comically big, his arousal standing proudly against his abdomen, thick and pulsing with desire.

a mix of excitement and nervousness coursed through you as you watched him, desire pooling low in your belly. you couldn't help but wonder how he was going to fit inside of you, the thought sending a thrill of anticipation racing through you. seungcheol reached for his wallet on the nightstand, retrieving a condom with practiced ease and slipped it on.

cheol lifted your legs over his head, moving himself between them, a gasp escaped your lips at the sudden change in position. you felt him slowly enter you, his size stretching you in a way that was both exhilarating and slightly painful. the stretch stung, sending a jolt of sensation coursing through your body, but it was unlike anything you had ever felt before. he had to be the biggest you'd ever had, filling you completely and leaving you breathless with desire.

“‘s-so big,” was all you could breathe out with awe in your voice.

“you’re so fucking tight,” he murmured with both hands holding your legs over his shoulder so he could stretch you out as much as possible. bottoming out, he studied your face for signs of discomfort and deciding he could move. as seungcheol began to thrust gently at first, you felt his movements cautious and tender, as if he were testing the waters. each slow push and pull sent waves of pleasure rippling through you, his size stretching you in ways that ignited a fire deep within.

“feels so fucking good, your perfect pussy…” he groans into your neck.

you couldn't help but vocalize how good you felt as well, “don’t stop baby, please.”

something about that nickname makes his movements became more urgent, more desperate, as he surrendered himself to the pleasure of being inside you. with each thrust, you felt yourself being pushed closer and closer to the edge, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable crescendo. his thrusts became rougher, more dominant, as he took control of the rhythm. with a growl of desire, he reached for your throat, his grip firm but not constricting.

the sensation of his hand around your neck sent a shockwave of pleasure coursing through you, the combination of pleasure and pain driving you wild with desire. "who makes you feel this good?" he demanded, his voice rough with need.

you gasped at the sensation, the pleasure building to an almost unbearable peak. "you," you screamed, your voice filled with rawness. "It's you, cheol."

he flipped you over onto your hands and knees, positioning you perfectly for him to take you from behind. you gasped at the sudden change in position, the feeling of vulnerability and excitement coursing through you. but before you could react, seungcheol’s hands were on you, grabbing your ass possessively as he pulled you towards him. the sensation of his grip on your flesh sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine, curved for him to hit your perfect angle.

as you thought you couldn't take any more, you felt his hand tangle in your hair, pulling you back towards him with a force that left you breathless. “want you to be mine..” he choked out, his words claiming you.

“‘m yours," you gasped, your voice surrendering yourself completely. with a final, desperate thrust, cheol buried himself deep inside you, sending you both hurtling over the edge into ecstasy. pleasure exploded through every nerve ending in your body as you both reached the peak together, your cries of passion mingling in the air as you rode out the waves of bliss together.

seungcheol slowly withdrew from you and as you caught your breathe, he removed the condom, discarding it thoughtfully before turning his attention back to you. his demeanor shifted, his previous intensity giving way to a tender concern. leaning in, he pressed soft kisses to your tired face, his touch gentle and reassuring. "are you okay?" he whispered, his voice filled with genuine concern as he traced a soothing hand along your sweaty cheek.

you nodded, a contented smile gracing your lips as you bask in the warmth of his affection.

he tenderly cleaned you with a warm, damp cloth that he quickly fetched from the bathroom, his movements gentle and careful as he ensured tour comfort. once satisfied, he disposed of the cloth and returned to your side, pulling the covers over the both of your naked bodies.

you lay in each other's arms, the quiet of the room enveloping them like a comforting embrace. the air was filled with a sense of contentment but also questions rang through your mind. unable to contain your curiosity any longer, you spoke up. "cheol, earlier... did you mean what you said?" you asked, her voice tentative yet filled with hope.

seungcheol turned to you, his gaze soft yet filled with meaning. “every word," he replied, his voice steady and sure. “if you want — then you’re mine, and i’m yours.”

your mind buzzed with uncertainty and you sigh, snuggling closer to him. the realization that your time together on the show was fleeting weighed heavily on your heart, casting a shadow over the intimacy you had shared.

"seungcheol," you begin, switching from the nickname you’d been using. “i can’t help but wonder...after filming ends, what happens to us? we haven't known each other for long, and...” you gnawed at your lip, “what if we’re just caught in the moment?”

his expression faltered, a flicker of hurt flashing across his features at your words. he had been so certain of your connection, so confident in the depth of your feelings for each other, that your doubts came as a painful blow.

he reached out, his hand trembling slightly as he gently cupped your chin, guiding your gaze to meet his. "caught in the moment?" he repeated, his voice filled with an anxiety-ridden tone you had never heard before. "is that really what you think this is?"

your chest clenched at the anguish in seungcheol’s eyes, the weight of your words settling heavily between the two of you. you hadn't meant to hurt him, hadn't realized the impact your doubts would have on him.

"no, seungcheol, that's not what i meant," you hurried to explain, sitting up — your voice thick with regret. "i just... i’m scared. scared that what we have isn't enough to survive once the cameras stop rolling."

seungcheol sat up, shoulders slumped, the weight of your uncertainty pressing down on him like a boulder. "i need some time to think," he said, his voice strained. without another word, he stood up, dressed himself with the clothes he’d discarded on the floor as you protested, and left the room, the sound of the door closing behind him echoing through the silence.

you curled up under the covers, the emptiness of the room amplifying the loneliness you felt.

—

day 13:

the next morning dawned with a heavy sense of awkwardness hanging in the air. as you emerged from your room, the weight of last night’s conversation still pressed on your chest. cheol was already in the kitchen, his back turned to you as he prepared breakfast. the usual warmth and easy smiles were conspicuously absent.

"good morning," you said softly, trying to break the tension.

"morning," he replied flatly, not turning to face you. his tone was distant, a stark contrast to the intimate moments you had shared just hours before.

breakfast was a quiet affair, the silence between you filled with unspoken words and unresolved emotions. every clink of cutlery felt amplified, every glance avoided a reminder of the rift that had formed.

filming started shortly after, the crew bustling around to set up the day’s scenes. you and seungcheol went through the motions, but the chemistry that had once made your interactions effortless now felt forced. the cameras captured your strained smiles and awkward pauses, the tension between you palpable.

by the end of the day, the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved tension was nearly unbearable. as the crew packed up and the lights dimmed, you felt a deep sense of despair settle in. the connection that had once felt so strong now seemed fragile.

the newly familiar routine of brushing your teeth and changing into pajamas felt strangely hollow without seungcheol’s presence by your side. as you slipped under the covers, the cool sheets seemed to amplify the emptiness of the space beside you.

—

day 14:

the next day dawned with a sense of finality, the knowledge that it was the last day of filming adding a layer of bittersweet tension to the air. you went through your morning routine mechanically, each action feeling heavy with the weight of the unspoken words and unresolved emotions between you and your fake husband.

the filming started early, the crew bustling around to capture the last few scenes of your time together. you and seungcheol interacted politely, tension still lingering. you found yourself stealing glances at him, wishing for a moment alone to bridge the gap, but the demands of filming left little room for personal conversations. the day moved swiftly, and before you knew it, it was time for the post-show interview.

—

post-show interview:

you sat in the brightly lit room, the camera trained on you as the producer asked the final questions. the weight of the moment pressed on you, and you took a deep breath, trying to steady your nerves.

interviewer: "so, how do you feel now that the show is ending?”

her voice was gentle but probing.

you paused, considering your words carefully. "its been an amazing experience," you began, your voice trembling slightly. "i’ve learned so much about myself and about what i want in a relationship. and...i’ve come to care for seungcheol deeply. more than i expected."

the interviewer leaned in, sensing the depth of your emotions.

interviewer: “can you elaborate on that? how has your relationship with seungcheol evolved?"

you nodded, your heart pounding. "at first, it was just about getting to know each other, but as the days went by, i found myself feeling…a certain way about him. he’s kind, supportive, and has this way of making me feel seen and valued. i’ve realized that i fell for him and that my feelings were real.”

a pang of regret hit you, remembering your doubts and the hurt in cheol’s eyes. you wondered if you should share your feelings fully, fearing the consequences of the media. but then, you decided—if there was a chance that he would see this interview when the show aired, perhaps he would understand the depth of your feelings and know that you regretted your words.

“i’ve fallen for seungcheol," you confessed, your voice breaking slightly. "and i regret the doubts i voiced. i wish i could take them back. i hope... i hope he can see how much he means to me."

the interviewer smiled softly, sensing the raw emotion in your words and the scoop she had just gotten. “thank you for sharing that," she said gently. "it’s clear that this experience has been transformative for you."

—

the weeks after the show wrapped up were a whirlwind of activity as you dived back into your work. your agency had announced a comeback, and preparations were in full swing, leaving little time for anything else. yet, despite the hectic schedule, thoughts of seungcheol lingered in the back of your mind, a constant undercurrent to your busy days. you cherished the rare quiet moments in your dorm, where you could catch up with your girl friends or simply relax. even during these times, you found yourself checking your phone, hoping for a message from the person you longed for. as the days passed with no word, a sense of uncertainty grew, mingled with the hope that he would reach out once the show aired.

when the show finally did air, you watched your post-show interview with bated breath, wondering how seungcheol would react. the raw honesty of your confession, the vulnerability you had shown, left you feeling exposed but kept you waiting next to your phone.

then, the call came. hearing cheol’s voice, filled with emotion and understanding, was like a balm to your weary heart. his words of reconciliation and his desire to give your relationship a real chance were everything you had hoped for. the prospect of meeting him off-camera, to explore your connection without the pressures of the show, filled you with a renewed sense of excitement and somewhat worry.

the next day, you found yourself standing outside a small, cozy café, your heart racing with anticipation. the door opened, and there he was—your same old cheol, looking just as nervous and hopeful as you felt.

he smiled as he saw you, a genuine, heartfelt smile that made your heart flutter. "hey," he said softly, stepping closer.

"hey," you replied, your voice quiet and your eyes watery.

without another word, he pulled you into a hug, holding you close. the warmth of his embrace, the familiar scent of him, it all felt right.

you both sat down, ordering drinks and talking about everything and nothing. the conversation flowed easily, the tension from the show slowly melting away as you reconnected on a deeper, more personal level.

"i’ve been thinking about you every day," he confessed, his hand reaching out to cover yours. "i want to explore this, see where it leads. no cameras, no scripts—just us."

you nodded, tears of happiness glistening in your eyes. "i want that too, cheol. i want us to have a real chance."

as seungcheol and you left the café, a small crowd had gathered outside, eager to catch a glimpse of the two of you together. camera flashes illuminated the sidewalk as fan-sites and news networks alike snapped photos, their interest palpable in the air. reporters shouted questions, their voices blending into a cacophony of speculation about your relationship.

online, netizens dissected every detail, analyzing photos and videos from the show and your recent café outing. comments and posts flooded social media platforms, with hashtags trending worldwide. the public's curiosity and excitement seemed to know no bounds as they speculated about the nature of your relationship.

cheol took to his instagram, posting a photo of the two of you holding hands outside the café with a quote from “amour,” the novel he had read previously.

— “ there will come a time when you believe everything is finished; that will be the beginning. “

—

end.

[queenimmadolla]

𝐄𝐚𝐫𝐥𝐲 𝐁𝐢𝐫𝐝

Summary: A glimpse into Eddie’s morning as a first time and young dad with his baby. Oh, and you’re there, too.

Warnings: allusions to sexy stuff, descriptions of breastfeeding (it’s natural—suck it up), and fluff.

a/n: pulled this one out of the vault for you guys, written last July. hope you like it!

Eddie’s up before you and surprised to see it’s light outside, a sight he hasn’t woken up to in the last couple of months. Two, to be exact.

  That’s when the two of you had brought Penny home.

  Eddie yawned, impressively loud before he slapped a hand over his mouth, gaze flickering to you but you were still asleep; on your stomach with your face partially hidden in your pillow. You’d successfully kicked the sheets off yourself in your sleep, leaving your legs bare and your top half covered with one of Eddie’s larger shirts. 

  One of your legs was bent at the knee and raised up near your elbow.

  God, you always looked so fucking delectable. All he’d have to do is rouse you with some kisses pressed to your neck, settle himself behind you, pull his boxers down and move your panties to the side and he could just—

  Eddie inhaled sharply, tearing his gaze away from your body before his blood could rush off to an area he didn’t have the time to acknowledge, as the very reason he couldn’t partake in his little fantasy cooed from her crib. 

  She’d been the result of a very similar event.

  He took a couple of moments to calm himself, squeezing his eyes shut as he promised, soon.

  Then he got out of bed, snagging a band t-shirt from the dresser as he walked to the crib on the other end of the room.

  Eddie yanked on the shirt—only briefly struggling with the arm holes—before he was peering into the crib, mouth breaking out in a megawatt grin.

  Penny was awake alright, big brown eyed stare focused on a sticker that had been plastered to the wall of his room long before she was even conceived. You’d swaddled her before putting her to bed last night, so she looked like an adorable, content burrito.

  Once she realized Eddie was hovering over her, the sticker lost her attention and those big beautiful eyes were on him, sparkling as her mouth parted in a gummy smile big enough to rival his own. 

  Daddy came to rescue her from confinement. 

  “Hi, baby, good morning!” Eddie cooed, trying his best to excitedly whisper so as to not disturb you, but he couldn’t help it. He was still so thrilled—and fucking terrified—to be a dad, to have that cute face peering up at him every morning and waiting for him when he got home from work. She always looked at him like he was the greatest thing to walk the earth, always so delighted to see her daddy.

  Even though she’d start crying for you the moment you came into view—but you had an advantage he lacked, you always had her food on you. Her walking meal ticket.

  And Eddie couldn’t even blame her, he was a huge fan of your boobs and he’d even bet he appreciated them more than Penny. 

  Eddie reached into the crib, tugging the tucked in corner of the blanket out and as the blanket around her loosened, Penny’s arms shot up near her head, her tiny body arching as she stretched for a comically long period of time. Eddie chuckled, using it to his advantage, he slipped an arm behind her back and head with the other supporting her bottom as he picked her up, pressing a kiss to her head (and giving her hair a secret little sniff to get a whiff of that baby scent of hers).

  “Did you sleep good, honey?” He cradled her in one arm, tucked close to his chest as he carried her out of the room to start on breakfast. 

  Penny obviously didn’t answer, head resting against his collarbone.

  “Heard you woke up mom last night—well, early this morning, I guess—with boobie demands.”

  Eddie pulled the fridge open, hovering in front of it as he debated on its contents before selecting the cartridge of eggs.

  He didn’t want to put Penny down, happy to have her curled up in his arms, so a simple breakfast would have to do. A pan was pulled out, so was a little bit of cooking oil and soon Eddie was breaking the eggs out of the shell—angling his body to the side so Penny wasn’t at risk of possible oil splash back—and letting them cook.

  “You like eggs?” Eddie asked, stepping a little ways from the stove as he hitched her higher on his chest and held the eggshells out for her to see.

  She kicked her legs, a roll covered arm shakily reaching out towards the shells but Eddie kept them out of her reach.

  “Uh-uh, no sticky fingers for you, young lady.”

  The shells were tossed in the trash can but Penny didn’t care, twisting her upper so her chest was pressed to his. She gripped his shirt loosely in her chunky fist as she leaned forward and mouthed at his shoulder, effectively soaking the area with her drool before she began to suckle.

  “Jesus, you act like we starve you.” Eddie chuckled, reaching for a recently washed pacifier to pop into her mouth.

  She seemed to prefer it over his shirt, doing a full body sigh once she was suckling on it, with her need partially sated (eddie knew he had about fifteen minutes to wrap up breakfast before she realized nothing was coming from it and would start crying), Penny went back to cuddling into his chest. 

  She was starting to be a little more active—not sleeping as much as she did this time last month but for the most part, her movements were still unstable. She had good neck control (you’d had to pin Eddie down to keep him from picking her up when she’d immediately cry upon being put down for tummy time), she liked to kick her legs like she was about to take off for a marathon, but she still couldn’t quite hold things for long (unless it was hair or fingers) and had yet to roll over without you cheating and nudging her the rest of the way.

  Speaking of making Penny do things…

  Eddie lost to his intrusive thought, rearranging his hold on Penny so he was gently grasping her sides as he placed her feet on the counter. Immediately, she popped down to squat before shooting up again. And then she did it once more, getting comfortable with using her legs.

  She didn’t even seem to wonder why Eddie was making her stand, she was more focused on staring intensely at her own feet.

  Then Eddie made her jump, lifted her up and down and up and down, and when that got her smiling wide enough for her pacifier to fall out of her mouth, Eddie moved onto the cabinets.

  “Go, baby, go!” He turned her on her side, miming the motions of her chunky legs running over the top cabinets like some baby ninja and laughing at how big her smile managed to keep getting, her big eyes squinting with it.

  “What are you doing to my baby?” You asked as you emerged from the bedroom, rubbing sleep from your eyes.

  “She’s gonna be the next Karate Ki—hello.”

  Eddie couldn’t help himself, dark gaze trailing over your figure as you stood there, hair a wreck, no pants, oversized t-shirt—ooh, and a leaking nipple. 

  Eddie’s favorite. Yum.

  You followed his gaze, scoffing at the dark stain growing over your left boob, hand pressing against it to stop it as if you were applying pressure to a wound.

  “It heard her,” You pouted, lip stuck out and wobbling at him as you referenced your body’s response to the sound of your baby. Crying, giggling, whimpering—didn’t matter, your milk ducts went into overdrive, aware that your baby was conscious and could need a feeding. Her baby noises were like a trigger sequence.

  Eddie lifted Penny to his face, pressing fervent kisses into the chub of her cheeks, “Score for you, babe!”

  You rolled your eyes, completely, utterly fond and smitten over the interaction. He briefly abandoned the kitchen to hand her to you after you’d made yourself comfortable on the couch, ready to fall to his knees in adoration.

  You pulled the shirt over your breast, and despite trying to place your nipple in her mouth for her, Penny struggled to find it, mouthing greedily at your boob, her little head turning this way and that way but always missing the peak. 

  “Girl, it’s right there.” You laughed. Penny gave it like four more seconds of trying before her whimpers kicked in and you hurriedly managed to get her to latch, stopping the outburst.

  And just like that, Penny was content, making satisfied little squeaks as she nursed and stared up at you, pretending like she hadn’t been moments away from screaming her lungs out.

  And Eddie was distracted, solely focused on the two of you and how he wanted to roll around on the carpet because the cuteness aggression was almost unbearable. If this was how he would be spending every work-free morning for the rest of his life, he was ready to convert to being a morning person.

  Especially if those big sparkly eyes and that gummy smile would be staring up at him. GOD-she was so stinking cute. He wanted to smother her in his affection, but she was growing annoyed with Eddie all up in her face and squishing the chub she was accumulating. She even cried if he faked chewed on her chunky cheeks for too long.

  “What’s that smell?” You asked, snapping him out of his love stupor as you sniffed loudly.

  “FUCK!” Eddie bolted back to the kitchen, smoke surrounding the pan and what had once been edible eggs, “Hey, honey, what’s your opinion on extra crispy eggs? You a risk taker?”

“The answer to that is hurting my nipple right now.”

“Valid. That was a very fun risk.”

divider ℗ cafekitsune ♡

[osamucide]

gladly

gladly i’ll burn up for you if you burn up for me

NSFW—MINORS DNI

wc: 1.2k

cw: dazai x gn!reader, explicit sexual content, no plot just horny and fluffy, established relationship, somno(?)(sleepy, anyway), handjob, grinding, nipple play, use of “baby,” “darling,” pillow princess dazai my most beloved

reid: this position bruh i’m going to go so feral that i eat my own hand. not the smut i intended to publish next but apparently the smut i needed to publish next. a little something short while i put off a longer dazai smut. i <3 soft lazy dazai enjoy

. . . .ᐟ

You know mornings like this should be rarer than they are.

His charming insistence, however muted by his sleep-addled laziness, hardly ever fails on you. In fact, it all might make him more tempting—that, the warmth of newly recharged bodies, the honey behind his drooping eyelids, the wandering of his hands and rolling of his hips against yours that feels so sweetly and foreignly unmapped and confused, yes, it’s equal parts all those things and you’re sure some others that you can’t conjure up into words through your early-hour fog. Yes, very few things Osamu ever does without meticulous planning, but he does let a certain vulnerability crack through on mornings like this, a vulnerability that’s evident in between his parting lips and the soft, unpracticed whines that live and die there. And yes, you’re one of the primary reasons—if not the primary reason—Osamu’s so often late to show up to work, but it’s difficult for you to feel guilty when your senses find their way back to the waking realm amongst his pretty sounds rumbling from his chest into your ear, his back arching back against your touch, and his soft brown hair splayed around his head like a halo.

The rational side of you should be dragging your dear boyfriend up and out of bed but it appears to still be asleep as you let your fingertips creep beneath his waistband. You shut the morning light out in favor of pressing your eyes beneath his collarbone; your thumb finds his tip, and if you weren't on the threshold of consciousness you would let out a giggle at the way his breath catches. You can feel Osamu's fingers curling tenderly around your wrist—a silent plea for you to keep going, touch him more, and you'll oblige, but you have to kiss the triangle of his shoulder first, so you do; your tongue deftly finds his nipple, and he's so pliant half-beneath you that you can slot his thigh between both of your own—it’s all you'll need, you can tell, as his head dips to the side on the pillow to catch a half-lidded glimpse of you working him into a mess so early and so easily. He'll return the favor without even trying, just by laying there and letting you move the way you do; he's so gorgeous all bleary from slumber, palming your lower back to guide you against him. You move. You move, looking up at him like he’s an angel, and his vision melts to warm darkness again. It's all he'll need, too.

You’d think he was falling back asleep if it wasn’t for the slow and steady bucking of his hips up into your hand. Winding your fingers around his base elicits a whine from his diaphragm—one you can hear against him as your own eyes roll shut and your tongue continues to idle. It’s all so natural, the way you stroke him, lick him, grind on him, that you feel yourself slipping back into unconsciousness. It’s his noises that you hang on for.

He’s far from alert, but words tumble out in whispers.

“Baby, it feels so good, don’t stop…”

You hum, more in response to his mumblings and less from the friction you create against his thigh; nonetheless, you’re sensitive, and as you keep rhythm along his cock he flexes against you and the way that you feel, splitting the line of slumber and wakefulness and writhing hotly against your lover, is divine.

You wish you could live in this kind of moment for the rest of your life. Too often you find yourself overwhelmed; regrettably and even more often you find Osamu overwhelmed. It’s never so obvious to anyone as it is to you, so he doesn’t tend to let on to anyone but you, and maybe that’s why you keep things like this sacred, because for once he doesn’t seem to be thinking, analyzing, inquiring, even how he does when you regularly have sex—forever the pleaser, he’s always looking to you with eyes asking questions like is it enough? Even outside of sex, god, in every aspect—you know he never stops wondering the same thing about himself: is it enough? Does it feel good? Am I enough? And the answer you give him is always a resounding yes, and you want so badly for him to believe you because he’s just as much your angel as you are his. You hope that mornings like this communicate it louder than your reassurances can. Your pleasure—in everything, in life—is so vividly amplified by his wellness, his peace, his own pleasure. You love him so deeply. He loves you like a stray cat finally living in comfort. You’ll never let a morning like this slip.

“Right there, right there,” he encourages as you squeeze just below his tip; his head lolls from side to side almost as if he’s dreaming (sometimes he thinks he is with you) and you track his movements through your own bliss, dragging your hips back and forth desperately as you double down on the spot that forces full-bodied moans from his pretty mouth. He’s close, he begs you; you’re frantic on his thigh, feeling yourself cum in a haze that has him tensing—you grind harder, harder, harder, sighing out his name until you’re spent so you can prop yourself up on your elbow to watch his face in the thickly-curtained sunlight.

“Oh, fuck, fuck— fuhhh— ah, uh-huh, ah—”

His eyes flicker open to catch your tired smile and he’s cumming—his grip on your ass is the only thing grounding him as his jaw falls slack, your lashes flutter in pure satisfaction, and he twitches, sent to the clouds by his beloved who looks at him with such adoration that he catches himself believing for a second that he must be beautiful; you work incredible magic on him. His brain and his body, both so used to neglect and abuse, finally feel like fruitful grounds for love. He finally feels whole as his cum drips down your fingers.

It is then that you do giggle and lean down to place a quick kiss to his nipple; he’s breathless, pink in the face, and you know you couldn’t love him more, and yet you will as each second passes.

Osamu brings his hand up to your hair, and your next kiss lands on his lips as he wills you down. It’s tender and lasts much longer than expected—you almost start your hips against him again, but the snoozed alarm at your bedside rings for the fourth time. You glance over. He was supposed to be out the door five minutes ago.

“Oh, shut it off,” he groans resentfully.

“As if.” You press one more kiss to his cheek before you unpeel yourself from him and punch the ringer into silence. “I’ll put coffee on.”

“Shower with me before I go, please.” He rubs his eyes and sits up. You strip out of your sticky shorts.

“Of course, darling.”

You pad to the kitchen. He watches you go with a warmth he didn’t know himself to be capable of.

And a smirk.

Maybe he can talk you into one more round in the bathroom.

[miguelhugger2099]

HEEEEYYYYYYYYYYYY

Glad to see ur requests are open. Can I get some kisses with Miggy please? Make 'em steamy, sensual and desperate for me, no smut required, but if you want to add on u can.

Tysm Bee! I love ur writing :)

Oh Boy, Smooching Time!

hello !!! thank u !! :) i love a good simple kissing. personally, i think the tension is sooooo much better than anything. i tried to do this as best as i could !! if u are not happy, as always i can remake it if ur not satisfiedddd ヽ(；▽；)ノ Art: caiabresebun on instagram

Miguel was a touched starved man, that much was clear enough. It showed in the little ways he’d touch you. His fingertips grazing your waist as a silent question to hold you before resting his warm palms on your hips. His arms tightening around you while you rested on top of his chest, one arm reaching down to pull your thigh over his lap. Leaning his body weight on top of you after a long and tiring day of work.

So it’s no surprise when he’s chasing your lips for another kiss while you’re on the couch together. What started as a simple cuddling session, ended up with Miguel crawling closer to you, his lips pressing soft kisses on your collarbone before making his way up.

Your hands curled in his hair, easing out the little tangles in his locks while his fangs nipped at your skin. You tilt your head back while his hands run up your thighs, pushing them apart to make some room for himself. You felt the soft pads where his talons were retracted in and his fingers gripped the plushness of your thighs and hips.

Miguel continues his assault on your neck, his tongue licking up the small bruises and nicks that had formed on your perfect skin. You arch your back, chest pressing up against his and Miguel reaches under your shirt, palm keeping you flush against him–skin on skin contact. Your heartbeat pounds in your ears, arms resting on his shoulders while you keep his head close to your neck.

Still, Miguel still finds a way to trail his plump lips up your throat, grinning when he feels your fast pulse. “Te gusta, mi amor?” He hums, and sucks another hickey just under your jawline. Finding yourself impatient, you lean your head down to capture his lips with yours.

Miguel lets out a soft moan, his sigh fanning your cheeks through his nose. His hand raising your shirt further and further up, feeling your spine under his palms and fingers gripping onto your skin with desperation. You follow the way he kisses, wanting and craving to devour all that you are but it feels endless.

It makes your cheeks burn with just how close he is, his body heat radiating off onto you and the soft hums of pleasure while he indulges in you. The soft clicking of teeth and feeling the curl of his lips when he smiles. You catch a glimpse of it when you open your eyes: a weak smile on his face, his eyes still closed and still under your spell before diving back in.

His hand cups the back of your head, entangling his fingers through your hair. Your arms run down his back under the collar of his shirt and you feel the movement of his muscles while he kneads at your body. You separate from the kiss, leaning down to kiss his temple and cheeks. Miguel rests his head on your shoulder, switching positions so you’re now on his lap. He slowly grinds his hips towards you, soft panting and hushed whines of pleading for more.

Miguel can’t help the hunger for more of your love, his hands leading you back down to his mouth, his tongue sliding across your bottom lip. His wet muscle ends up in your mouth to search for your tongue. Meanwhile his hands run down the curves of your body slowly. He takes he time soaking you in, your skin rising with goosebumps, until he lands on your thighs that’s around him. Miguel grips your flesh, ghosting higher to the hem of your shorts and curve of your ass.

Your body burns with desire, the feeling of his tongue swirling with yours— warm puffs of breaths shared in the space between the two of you. Lips moving in sync, taking eager turns of sucking tongues and biting lips to make the other groan and grind. Your fingers find his hair, twirling the curls at the nape of his neck around your index and tugging on it. Miguel moans, pressing you down on his growing erection and bucking his hips up at the same time.

You mewl at the millisecond of relief, tilting your head back for a breath of air. Miguel is relentless, settling on kissing along the side of your face while whispering más, más. Your mind spins when you feel his kisses leave wet marks from the sloppy make out, the sensation cool against your heated skin.

Miguel grabs your chin between his index and thumb, bringing your face back down so he can reach your mouth again in another kiss. You reciprocate eagerly, shivers running through your body while tasting him again. The sounds of shared loving echos softly in the quiet and dim room—soft hums and hushed declarations of love and desire.

Miguel’s fingernails claw at your back from top to bottom. It makes your arch into his chest—which he wanted. He smirks against your lips before biting down on your lip teasingly. His palms feel your arch, groaning with your pressed up against him. He rubs up and down, down, down, to where he cups one cheek of your ass to nudge you closer in his lap.

You nearly stumble, mouth dropping open to spill moans and growing weak. Miguel doesn’t let you go, taking advantage of your blissed state for more and more and more kisses. He loves the way you roll your hips instinctively, the way your breathing becomes labored—feeling it on his lips for the split moment to breathe. He knows what he does to you.

Your hands that had messed with his curls run down his temples, your fingernails gently scratching down his face and neck and over his chest. Miguel shutters, cock throbbing for those very hands to be around him. “Haah..Hnng..” He whines softly, hissing when the teasing boils over. He can’t take it anymore. You know what you do to him.

Miguel switches positions again so you’re lying on your back. A yelp of surprise knocks you out of the moment—your eyes rolling to the back of your head with a sigh of pleasure when he kisses you passionately again. Miguel fumbles with his zipper with one hand while you stumble out of your shorts.

[babyleostuff]

Hii I saw your requests are open can I request scoups reaction to reader kissing his tatoo and things just get steamy?? Thank you🩵🩷

warnings | no smut, but is suggestive

You stand in the kitchen doorway wearing nothing but his oversize white shirt, and a pair of panties he bought you for your anniversary, taking in his shirtless form. 

Seungcheol's biceps flex under the weight of the pot that he uses for cooking ramen. The same biceps that just fifteen minutes ago pinned you to the bed, ruining you completely in every way possible. His blonde hair is still damp from the shower that he took, and he is wearing nothing but his boxers, which don’t leave much to your imagination. 

His ass looks great.

Biting your lip, a rush of heat runs through your body, settling in your core. You feel your panties soaking with your juices, as if he didn’t just fuck you dumb. 

The black ink on his back catches your attention. A part of him that only people closest to him are able to see. You love how his fans go crazy about seeing only a glimpse of it, whereas you can admire it in all its glory. The fact that he slept through the process of making it makes you horny almost every time. 

“How’s the cooking going?” you ask, coming up behind him. You put your head between his shoulder blades and sneak your arm around his waist, settling your hands on his abs. 

“Good, but if you’ll stop distracting me, it’s going to be even better,” he murmurs, as he feels your nails scratching the expanse of his tummy. 

You hum and place wet kisses on the naked skin of his back, getting closer to one of your favourite places on his body. He smirks to himself, knowing exactly where you’re going to kiss him next. 

He senses your warm puffs of breath over his tattoo, before he feels the tip of your tongue touching the outline of it. You quickly place a kiss right in the middle of it, tracing your fingertips over his other tattoo. 

“Baby, I just fucked you like twenty minutes ago, Seungcheol snickers under his breath and turns around to face you. The usual pout on his face is nowhere to be seen, and all that remains is his dominance over you, which you can never resist. 

“I know,” you say, placing another kiss on his collarbone. “But you look so hot.”

He cups your jaw with one of his hands, placing the other on your ass, giving it a little squeeze. 

“So needy,” he laughs and kisses innocently the corner of your lips. A wine escapes your lips as you press yourself closer to Seungcheol. You put your hand between your bodies, which gently slides down his exposed chest, until it reaches his cock. 

“What do you think you’re doing?” he asks, raising one eyebrow, which has always been your weakness. Before you can answer, he dips his head and captures your lips in a rough, passionate kiss filled with nothing but lust and desire. Your teeth clash, and tongues tangle in a mix of your saliva. 

“Cheol,” you moan. “The food.” 

He quickly turns around to turn off the stove, then grips you roughly under your thighs and sets you down on the kitchen counter.

“Now, where were we?”

[aikaterini-drag]

The Sweetest Surprise PART 2

Pairing: Rafe Cameron x Fem!Reader

Summary: Rafe returns from work and you have a sweet surprise for him.

Warnings: minors don’t interact, 18+, lots of fluff and sweet moments, pregnancy announcement, shameless smut. Enjoy!!

This is belongs to the ‘Loving You Series’. Find it here.

At first you thought the tiredness and anxiety were due to the wedding preparations and your busy schedule at the museum. With only five months until your wedding to Rafe, the things you had to do daily were overwhelming. The only thing that made you calm down was Rafe.

But for the past ten days, you’d felt more unwell than usual. Sometimes you were lightheaded, and some scents seemed to turn your stomach. Just that morning, the nausea was so bad you had to leave work early. You went straight to the pharmacy, bought a dozen pregnancy tests and rushed home.

A while later, you were pacing back and forth, your heart pounding as you stared at the two lines on the pregnancy stick. Positive. The moment had finally arrived. You and Rafe had done it. You were pregnant! Joy and a little anxiety bubbled within you as you thought about how to tell him. He wanted a baby just as much as you, and you wanted the reveal to be perfect.

After a lot of pondering, you decided to surprise him that evening once he came back home from the company. Getting busy, you cooked his favorite meal, set the table and prepared for a cozy and intimate night in. By 8 pm, the table was ready, the delicious scent of homemade lasagna filling the air. You hid the neatly wrapped gift box into the a cabinet and fumbled with your hands, nervously waiting.

When you heard the door unlocking, you went to greet him, you whole being vibrating with excitement. Rafe closed the door, locked it, and opened his arms. You ran into his embrace, and he encased you protectively, lifting you off the ground for a few seconds. His natural scent teased your nose, dark and musky, it didn’t bother your sensitive stomach.

“Someone missed me more than usual,” he said before bending down to claim your lips.

“Hmm, missed you,” you muttered in between wet kisses.

“Something smells amazing.”

“I made your favorite,” you replied as casually as possible. “Why don’t you wash up and join me? Dinner’s almost ready.”

You shifted away to check on the food but he grabbed your waist, pulling you back against his chest. You wore a flowery mini dress that hugged your breasts and showed off your collarbones. Rafe seemed highly affected by it. His hands traced your hips, waist and the outline of your breasts before stopping at your shoulders.

“You wore my favorite dress,” he said, his voice low and sultry. “You know what that does to me.”

“You will be a good boy and wait.”

“Babe.” His breath was warm against your neck as he whispered, “It’s hard enough for me to keep my hands off you, especially when you wear this dress.”

You flushed but managed to slip out of his hold, smiling playfully. “Dinner first. Pussy later.”

He chuckled, a deep, throaty sound that sent a thrill through you. “You drive me crazy, you know that?”

“And don’t you love it,” you teased as you strolled back to the kitchen. Rafe followed after you, smacking your bum lightly before making his way to the bathroom.

Fifteen minutes later, he was fresh out of the shower with his short hair still damp. He had changed into black trousers and a loose white shirt that he left partially unbuttoned, giving a glimpse of his sculpted chest. He sauntered over to you and hugged you from behind as you served the meal. You smiled and breathed in his clean masculine scent.

“Missed you, love.” He kissed the side of your neck. “I’m starving.”

“Everything’s ready.”

You sat down and enjoyed your dinner. Rafe talked about his day at work, then just watched you with a hungry look in his eyes. You ate a little, but with his probing, you finished your plate. He nursed a glass of wine—you had juice and that made him flinch for a moment.

“Something’s different today. What is it?” His eyes settled on you, warm and appraising.

You stiffened a little. He always read you like an open book. You smiled and decided it was the right time so you took out the gift box, setting it in front of him on the table.

“This is for you, baby. Open it,” you said, your heart racing.

Rafe stared at your with widened eyes. He muttered a husky “Don’t tell me it’s what I think it is” while he untied the ribbon and lifted the lid. He exhaled in gratitude as he pulled out the pregnancy stick. He looked up at you, his eyes so full of love and adoration.

“Yes, yes yes!!” he shouted, jumping up from his chair so quickly that it fell over. He reached you in an instant, lifting you into his arms and squeezing you tightly.

You clutched him, tears of happiness in your eyes. “Yes, we’re going to have a baby.”

“Oh my God, baby, we’re having a baby!” He set you on your feet and kissed you deeply, tears of joy rolling down his eyes. You wiped them, but realized you were also crying, even harder than he.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry, beautiful,” he said gently as he kissed your tears away. “Don’t cry, please I can’t take it.”

“Happy tears.” You sniffled, smiling through your tears. He kissed you softly, peppering touches until you’d stopped crying.

“We’re in this together, okay? You and me.” He framed your flushed face and kissed the top of your red nose. “No more crying, alright? I love you so much.”

“I love you too,” you whispered, your heart swelling with joy.

Kneeling, he lifted the hem of your dress and kissed your still-flat stomach tenderly. “My precious baby is carrying my baby.”

“I am,” you laughed, shivering at the feel of him against your skin.

He pressed his cheek to your soft belly. “Hey there, little one. I’m your daddy,” he murmured. “I can’t wait to meet you. Stay safe and help me take care of your mommy, hm?”

You ran your fingers through his hair, ready to cry again at the tenderness of the moment.

“Rafe, I’m so happy,” you said, your voice trembling with emotion.

He stood up and pulled you close, his eyes bright with mischief. “Not as much as I. I finally made it happen,” he said, a triumphant grin on his face. “I knocked you up.”

You laughed. “I never doubted you would. You’ve been so determined.”

He slid the straps of your dress off your shoulders and kissed your collarbones. “I can’t wait until you’re showing. I want everyone to see that bump and know you’re carrying my seed.”

“You’re impossibly obsessed.”

He nodded, unabashed. “I am. I’m a slut for you. And for your pussy, your breasts, and your pert little ass. Actually, I fucking worship all of you.”

His words awakened a warm flush through you. “I’ll have you know I’m just as crazy about you.”

He kissed the tops of your breasts, his hands roaming your body. “Well, I can say for sure I’m even crazier.”

“And excited,” you added, sliding your hand down the front of his pants. He was fully erect in your palm, his balls swollen.

“You always make me excited. Even when you’re not with me, just thinking about fucking you gets me hard. And now that you’re pregnant, I’m gonna be in a constant state of hardness for you.”

“Poor baby.” You gave his crotch a gentle squeeze, making him groan. “I can take care of it.”

Growling his approval, he unbuckled his belt and stripped down his trousers and boxers until they pooled at his ankles. You were planning to take him in your mouth, but he sat down and pulled you to straddle him, your legs on either side of his thighs.

“Not fair,“ you pouted, reaching down to pump his cock slowly, feeling the veiny skin against your palms. “I want to suck you.”

“I know, babe…hmmm,” he groaned as you rubbed his ballsack. “Later, perhaps. Now all I can think of is burying myself deep into your warm little cunt.”

You shook your head defiantly, deciding to keep jacking him and running your thumb over the trickle of pre-cum at the head.

“Naughty baby,” he grumbled as he let you have your way— for now —while he worked to remove your clothes. He slipped off your dress and growled at the sight of your tits. Plump and high, they looked delicious enough to eat and he did just that, putting his warm mouth around each rosy nipple. He cupped the underside of your smooth mounds and jutted them up toward his lips.

Choked moans left you as you wiggled shamelessly on his lap, begging him to keep going. Rafe whisked one nipple with his tongue, smiled, then moved to the other. Your hands pumped his shaft weakly, the stimulation was too much, and quickly got out of hand when you heard the sound of your underwear ripping.

“Rafe!” you meant to sound angry but a long moan escaped you when he cupped your pussy.

“What?” he asked sweetly.

“Nnnngh…” you could only whimper as his fingers rubbed your slit, slicking up his fingers in your abundant wetness.

“Such a good girl for me, dripping for me,” he praised, gently probing with two thick fingers. The digits entered you with great care, sliding deep and curving inside you.

“Yesssss,” you clutched his shoulders, realized he still wore his shirt so you impatiently tugged it off. Satisfied, you raked your fingers over his strong chest and broad shoulders.

Rafe fucked you with his fingers while his mouth feasted on your nipples, his wet tongue suckling and circling each tip. Your chest was rosy and marked with his touches and you arched frantically against him, your stomach quivering. Your release hit you so hard that you wanted to scream, but you bit your lips to keep the noise down.

Noticing, Rafe slapped your clit lightly. “Don’t you dare hide your moans from me. I want to hear you.”

You winced, trembling with aftershocks as he kept his fingers inside you and added the gentle pressure of his thumb against your clit. He went back down on your tits, licking the curve and around the flushed areolas.

“Please, fill me up,” you whined, panting heavily. “Inside, deep, come on!”

Smiling against your skin, he grabbed your hips and stood up with you in his arms. You locked your hands at his nape as he pushed you against the wall. You felt one hand cradling your back, protecting you from the hard surface, the other cupping your ass.

“Whatever my goddess wants, my goddess gets.”

You felt the blunt tip at the entrance of your pussy, slowly pressing into you, your walls stretching around the incredible thickness. Pleasurable chills travelled through your body and you wrapped your legs around him, moaning as you felt every inch of him invade you. Rafe lowered you down his cock, your pussy accepting him inside to the hilt.

He groaned and held himself still. “Fuck, your pussy is heaven.”

“More,” you clutched him for dear life needing him close. It was too much yet not enough.

“Easy.” His thick cock pulsed inside you. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“It’s okay, Rafe. I promise.”

“We have to be careful from now on,” he said casually as if he wasn’t buried balls-deep inside you. “First thing tomorrow, we’re going to the doctor. I want to make sure you and the baby have the best care.”

“Fine, daddy, now fuck me, please?” Your voice a was playful whisper.

His eyes darkened. “Want my dick so bad, baby?”

“Hmm… want this fucking big cock that knocked me up.”

And that did the trick. He fucked you with a passion that turned you into a sobbing, blubbering mess. His cock was drenched in your juices, both of you panting for air. Thrusting in and out of you steadily, you rocked with force and pulled his head for purchase. Your nipples rubbed against his chest, tits squeezed delightfully until he decided he wanted a view, so he leaned back and watched as your tits heaved with each thrust.

“Gonna…ngh... gonna—"

“Let go baby, I've got you," he drawled. “Cum, baby. Cum all over my dick.”

At his command, your pussy clenched, pleasure making you frantic. You wrapped yourself around him, your teeth grazing his collarbone as you rode your high. He kept fucking you through it and with a bellow, pushed as deep as he could go and let go, spurting thick white streaks inside you. You milked him dry, your breath rugged against his neck.

Several long minutes later, you felt him push from the wall and make his way to the bedroom.

“Rafe..." you muttered as he walked with his raging cock pulsing inside you. You clung to him, letting out a series of soft whimpers.

Rubbing your back comfortingly, he sat at the edge of the bed. "All good?" he asked, his eyes locked on yours.

"Yes, my love," you smiled, running your hand through his hair. “Want you to fuck me again.”

He chuckled darkly. “Such a filthy word from such a lovely mouth.”

“Want to suck you, too.” You smiled when his thumb trailed your lips and, eagerly, you took it in your mouth.

“Damn… I’m yours, baby. I’ll do anything you want.”

“I’m at my happiest,” you grinned, kissing him softly on the lips.

“Not as happy as you’ve made me, baby. Just when I thought it couldn’t get better, you rock my world.”

“And your cock.”

“And that.” He gave a shallow push to remind you that he was still deep inside you. “I’ll take care of you.”

You grinned. “Not if I take care of you first.”

Next part will be something fluffy that gives depth to their relationship. Stay tuned.

[lingerina]

➤ g!p wonyoung x fem!reader ➤ pwp, smut, choking, hair pulling, creampie, squirting ➤ 748 words ➤ your roommate had invited a friend over for a study session, but said friend makes it before your roommate does. and what can transpire while you both wait for her to return?

You do not associate with Jang Wonyoung: the campus Barbie, valedictorian, and all-around athletic jock.

You do not associate with an arguably flawless being; your roommate does.

Ahn Yujin, one of Wonyoung’s closest friends who’s equally stellar in all aspects, had invited her over for a study session and a debrief on an upcoming volleyball tournament. She had consulted you about having someone over, so you had expected a visitor today. You just didn’t expect the visitor to be one of the most sought-after campus girls.

You couldn’t look Wonyoung in the eye.

You couldn’t look into her round, doe eyes. Couldn’t look at her gorgeous face.

Yujin has yet to make it home, so you’re stuck with her perfect best friend–tongue-tied and frazzled. From afar, there was no denying her beauty, and it’s further amplified by her confidence and charisma. Heads turn when Jang Wonyoung struts down the walkway, but you could barely allow yourself a glimpse of her in your peripheral view.

And she didn’t seem okay with that.

“Ah-!”

You gasp as she shoves her cock inside you, forcing you up against the kitchen counter that you’re bent over. Her chest presses against your back, long but dainty fingers locking your tresses in a vice grip as she fucks you. Her soft features and pure beauty masquerades the sins of a villainess with the way she had pounced on you, trapped you beneath her, and is now rutting into you with no concern of your roommate possibly bursting through that door.

You had prayed for Yujin to return when Wonyoung’s hand slipped up your flimsy pajama shorts. Now you’re begging for the world to stall her as you’re getting railed–destroyed.

“You like that, huh?,” Wonyoung purrs by your ear after a pause.

Your breath hitches in response, your slick walls suctioning tighter around her with the lack of friction. Your initial pleas and concerns didn’t match your actions, as you had allowed her to get this far. Pathetic, really. You’re even more pathetic now, pinned down with the prettiest girl balls deep inside your weeping cunt. Wonyoung thrives on your helplessness. You’re a person of little words, and it amuses her that you only make so much noise.

“Don’t be shy.”

With a flick of her wrist, she fixes a hold on your hair and jerks your head back. You yelp at the searing pain on your scalp, but it quickly fuses with a moan as her cock is dragged out, then rammed back into you. The force of her hips nearly embed you into the hard, marble surface, but you don’t care. Wonyoung is stretching your cunt deliciously, filling and hitting all the right places that have yet to be reached–even by your own toys.

Wonyoung’s hand wraps around the base of your throat. She forces your head back onto her shoulder and her lips skim over your collarbone, as if your neck hasn’t already been converted into a canvas for her mouth.

You’ve gone beyond your conscience over the pain though. Numbness. Accommodated. You’re already used to it. You’re more fixated on Wonyoung’s pace.

And with vigorous swipes of your clit, your eyes roll back and you clutch the edge of the counter for dear life as you squirt all over her dick. Your clenched walls resist her, but your orgasm ejects her. Her hand doesn’t slack on your engorged clit, however, and she forces you to make a mess everywhere, juices spattering all over the cupboard doors and her fervent digits. Her strength is to be commended because she’s holding you up while you’re writhing and struggling to keep still.

The second you sink onto the counter, she forces her hard cock back into you, minding the orgasm that tore through you a second ago and reducing you to a vessel for her cum as she fucks you. Your pussy has been through hell, heaven, and back, but Wonyoung is fixed on one final thing.

“Fuck!,” she hisses with a drawl, fingertips digging into your hips as she thrusts harder. “Yes, yes, yes!”

You nearly lose your footing when she bottoms out in you, the silent apartment reverberating with Wonyoung’s moans and profanity as she spills inside you. She withdraws her slick-coated dick and shoves back into you with a guttural ‘yes!’, pushing her cum deeper into you. Your brain can barely function now that you’ve been utterly ruined by your roommate’s best friend.

But you don’t regret it.

Not one bit.

[trippygalaxy]

Zagreus' Nicknames For You!

First x reader thing I'm making for Hades, and I wanted to do something small to get comfortable with this new fandom sooo nicknames headcanon it is! I hope you enjoy it!

Pairing: Zagreus x GN! Reader Warnings: NOT BETA READ!! (sorry for spelling errors!), suggestive language? its not meant to be--, Word count: 500+

Little Minx

A nickname said with mirth in his voice and a playful glare that holds nothing but love.

You, among with many others in the House, like to teasingly poke at the Prince's buttons with playful jabs and taunting comments. But you are one of the few that holds no true malice behind your words and makes a point to check in on him to see if these comments bother him.

He greatly appreciates your concerns and semi constant check ins, it makes him feel seen in a way he hasn't yet really experienced--

But he wouldn't call you his little minx if you weren't a little gremlin! Oh no no, you are by far the most mischievous soul he'll ever meet!! Your quick witted quips, your sly smirks and knowing looks as you press each of his buttons (with love, of course!), all of these factors are what got him to coin your title!

Zagreus may roll his eyes and send some playful jabs back, but he loves having a partner that can match his energy!! And he can't help but find it so cute when you snark him in that mirthful tone of yours!

Jewel

A nickname cooed into your hair, a wide smile clear in his loving tone. A nickname that comes bursting from his chest as he sees your darling form.

You shine brighter than any gem embedded in his fathers rings, the light that bounces off of you only adds to the breathtaking form of yours. You, to Zagreus, are one of the most beautiful jewels he had the honor to lay his eyes upon.

To the Prince, you are the most precious thing he has ever found!

Maybe thats the romantic in him, but he truly believes that you are worth every coin under the sun and ever uncut gem beneath the surface. He may doubt how someone as brilliant as you could ever stand next to someone as dull as him, but he is quick to push those worries aside when he sees the way you smile at him.

The man, as soon as he rises from the Styx, will look for you in the halls of the house, and you can bet that if he catches a glimpse of you he will be hurrying to your side and calling for you without a hint of shame in his tone.

He loves his Jewel, and he'll try to voice it ever chance he gets!

Nectar

A nickname whispered into the nape of your neck, batted breaths fanning across your collarbone as he clings to you.

Oh this boy...When he isn't trying to 'escape' the labyrinth that is the Underworld (or..dying), he is in your arms and is making himself right at home in your warm embrace!!

You've gained the nickname from...well...You hold a sweetness to you unlike anything he's ever experienced in the Underworld! He would gladly drown in you if it meant he could experience you again and again.

This nickname isnt as widely known, like Jewel, and nor is it used so sparingly like Minx! The nickname is used for the few quiet moments you two share together, its said with so much tenderness -as if you'd shatter like a glass bottle if Zagreus spoke it in any other way- you melt every time he says it.

These quiet moments tend to be with you two laying down, legs tangled with the others and embracing eachothers warmth and love.

Taglist: @birb-boyo @tomsishere @faroreskiss (Uhh...thats it i think?)

[twola]

Having Arthur tied to a chair and fucking him till he’s overstimulated and dizzy is something I’ve been thinking about lately >:)

The Fine Art of Knot Tying II

Arthur Morgan x F!Reader Smut (18+), MDNI

➵ Fic Masterlist ➵ AO3 Link ➵ Previous | ➵ Next

One would think Arthur learned his lesson in the knot-tying venture - but to both of your delights, he has not.

“I still don’t get why you have to keep practicing on me.”

A soft giggle leaves your lips, teasing, cloyingly sweet. You tuck a random strand of your hair behind your ear as you stoop over him.

“Are you really complainin’ here?” Your hand lands upon his collarbone, and slowly inches under the cotton of his workshirt, brushing against warm skin.

Arthur grumbles back something unintelligible.

“ ‘sides… You wanna make sure I can do this right. Can’t have some bounty breakin’ free when I’m taking them in.” You whisper as you slide your hand further beneath his shirt, pressing against his sternum.

“Course not. But-” He trails off, momentarily distracted by the feeling of your hand on his chest, “Darlin’, I don’t think you need to tie me to a chair for that.”

You smile back at him, saccharine glimmering in your eyes, “Oh, I think I do.”

You pluck the hat off of his head and place it on your own before bringing both hands to his chest. The first button under his collar is undone by your deft fingers.

He crooks an eyebrow at you, his shoulder jutting forward, but he’s unable to move from the chair you have him tied to. His large arms are pulled behind his back, his wrists securely knotted together.

You pull your hands from his chest and he sucks in a breath of protest, quickly let out when your hands land in his lap.

Lucky, he said as the two of you stumbled upon this old cabin. By the looks of it, no one had been there in a while.

Just enough time for some practice, you had whispered.

Arthur’s traitorous cock roars to life as your hands slowly move up his thighs, and he has to bite his lip to stifle an embarrassing sound as you place one small hand on his swelling appendage and press against it.

With practiced hands, you expertly unlatch his suspenders from his pants and immediately work on unbuttoning his fly - his cock pressing upward as each of the three buttons are let loose. 

“ Christ”, he groans out as your hands dive into his trousers and pull at his union suit underneath. You shimmy his pants from his waist to his hips, him bucking upward to assist in the motion.

It’s only a moment before you’ve opened the crotch of his union suit and drawn out his hard cock and heavy testicles, tinged red with all of the blood rushing to his groin.

You smirk as he looks back up at you, panting as one of your little hands starts to stroke his long shaft, the other gently squeezing his balls.

A needy moan bursts from his lips before you dive in and smother him with your own, the hat balanced on your head falling to the floor as you press your tongue into the warm cavern of his mouth. 

It’s several moments like that, you looming over him, kissing hard as your hands work him in this chair. He pants desperately, needily into your mouth, bucking against your hands, until you pull away, a wet trail of saliva connecting your mouths for a moment before it breaks. 

You let go of his member and he nearly snarls there in that chair, the muscles of his chest bulging as his cock stands at attention, weeping from the red-purple tip.

“Get back o’er here,” he grits out, unable to be playful in such a state of need.

“One minute.” You breathe back at him.

“No, not one minute. Get o’er here.” Arthur practically growls, the old chair creaking underneath him as he struggles against the rope binding him.

“Hold your goddamn horses, Arthur.” You spit with a smile, starting to hike your skirts up, holding them up in one hand as you pull at your bloomers, sliding them down your thighs and they fall the rest of the way to your ankles.

He stares hungrily at the apex of your thighs, where glimpses of the dark thatch of hair that shrouds your cunt is visible to him as you step closer to him.

You straddle him, skirts in one hand, grasping the base of his cock with the other, and line yourself up. His gaze shoots up to your face as you start to sink down, welcoming his length into your body. You moan, high and flighty, as you ease yourself down, and his jaw hangs open with each inch of him that pierces you.

By the time the backs of your thighs rest in his lap, you’ve buried your face into the side of his neck, breathing heavily.

“You alrigh’?” Arthur whispers into your ear, hoarsely, obvious that he’s trying to keep control of himself.

“M-hm.” You moan, drawing back from his neck to find his gaze, pressing your forehead against his, “Just le-lemme get used to you.”

A blush settles over his cheeks as he drowns in his fondness for you. He lifts his chin to find your lips, pressing against them gently. You wind your arms sweetly around his neck, returning the kiss as you grow used to him between your thighs.

The kiss ends, however, when you dig the heel of your boots into the wooden floor and roll your hips back slowly, then return to sheathing him deep in your cunt. He groans, his jaw falling open as he begins to pant as you find a rhythm.

Your hands clamp on his shoulders as you clench your teeth, breathing out heavily as your rolling hips start to slam into his, riding him like you were trying to break a horse.

His eyes widen with each thrust, and he starts to meet you, his hips lifting to meet your downward motion, moans falling from his mouth unencumbered. 

“Christ, god, honey-” he gasps, his pupils blown wide as you ride him for everything he’s worth.

“Don’t come yet, cowboy,” you pant into his mouth, “I- I wanna ride you all night long.”

Arthur’s head rolls back as he groans, jutting his hips upward to shove his cock even deeper into your warmth.

“Yer- damnit, You’re gonna kill me, w-woman.” He can stutter between hoarse breaths. His eyes squeeze shut, and as you continue to roll your hips over him, he tries to think of anything to make him last longer. Pearson’s stew. Uncle’s union suit.

But nothing can tide the pull in his gut - watching you throw your hips into his, tied to this goddamn chair - he can’t. He just can’t hold on.

His eyes squeeze shut as he curses aloud, his hips buck upward uncontrollably as he feels that spasm in his groin quickly followed by the hot spatter of spend that he loosens into your cunt.

You moan, throwing your head back as you continue to thrust onto him, the warmth blooming in your hips sending you closer to your own edge. 

“S-stop, fuck-” Arthur whines, his voice nearly cracking as you keep impaling yourself on his still-hard cock. Between your slick and his cum, the wet sounds from the joining of your bodies would be mortifying if anyone could hear.

“Jus- ‘m almost there-” You cry out, your head falling backward as you slam your hips down, “Let me come please-”

Arthur groans loudly, unable to fight back, unable to wrench you off his overstimulated cock. He feels as if he’s already burst into flame, spent and satisfied, but with your channel still tightly pulsing and clutching around him, he feels like he could die.

You rock yourself against his pelvis, his cock as deep as you can take him, your clit pressed hard against his pubic bone. He drops his head to your shoulder as he pants, your eyes squeeze closed in concentration as you gyrate over him.

God, it’s so much. He can’t catch his breath, he’s goddamn dizzy, feeling nothing but you around his cock. Each motion of your hips over his is a fresh wave threatening to pull him under, god, he’s going to drown in you.

A stuttering groan escapes from behind his clenched teeth, unabashedly needy and you whine in response. One, two, three more slides of your hips before you shove yourself down on him all the way and come , clenching hard around him, a gush of slick from where you’re joined slide down his now empty testicles.

You pant tiredly, draping yourself over his chest as he breathes heavily through his nose, head tipped backward as he tries to pull at the knots keeping his arms bound behind his back.

“Jesus fuck, girl. I ain’t gonna be able to walk for a week.” He groans out, clenching his teeth to still be sheathed in your warmth, his cock finally starting to soften within you.

You give a tired chuckle as you tiredly push your hands against his shoulders, standing up over him. A gasp escapes your lips as his cock slides out, a rush of your combined essences trailing down your inner thighs. 

You step backward, stumbling slightly from your wobbly legs, and he tries in vain to escape your bindings, the chair creaking underneath him. Once you’re able to get your footing, you make your way around the chair and start to untie the knots around his wrists. After some finessing, the rope finally falls to the floor.

He rockets up out of the chair, rubbing at his wrists for a moment before turning toward you, as you stand to your full height again.

Before you can even react, he’s rounded the chair and pushed you several steps backward into the wall, pressing his large body into yours. His hand gravitates to your throat, tipping your head backward for you to look up at him.

His eyes are hungry. His hold on your throat borders on tight. Never mind that his pants are still undone and his cock hangs out of his union suit, pressed against your belly. Never mind that you feel his warm spend drip from your aching cunt to the floor beneath your skirts.

“Next time, little lady,” He near growls in your ear, “I have somethin’ more advanced to show ya.”

[ggumjjun]

hehe it’s jjunie thoughts again~~ minors dni + nsfw content !!

shyly peeping in on yeonjun when he gets off alone,,, cute you think he doesn’t know it, should entertain his darling a little longer~ the crack in the door so obvious through his eyelashes as they flutter closed, a pretty groan emanating from the depths of his chest as yeonjun slowly stokes himself, a moan of pleasure slipping through his lips as his long fingers slide over the veins lacing his stiff length, tip dark and flushed, a glistening hint of precum leaking out. his chest rising with deep breaths, black tank top clinging to the shapely musculature beneath, collarbones sharp against white cotton. sweats barely down, his every move on display,,, just for you, his cute lover thinking you’re peeking in secret~ yeonjun’s gaze capturing glimpses of your face through the slight space beside the door through his long bangs,,, perhaps he should show you a little more.

a deep groan exhaled as he strokes his length faster, harder as his thumb rubs the leaking tip of his cock, slick sound of precum against his fingers as it drips down his shaft, a breathy hiss as yeonjun tightens his grip, pleasure and heat flaring beneath the sensitive skin. a deep swallow,,, knowing your gaze is fixated on him, his adams apple bobbing prominently,,, and his fantasizing mind wandering.

in a haze of pleasure, imagining all the things he’d like to do,,, should he punish you for watching~? tie up your wrists in his favorite silk ties, force your legs apart when you attempt to hide your soaked panties and pussy, maybe make your tight cunt take three fingers this time,,, pretty tears and cries as you writhe under his grip,,, thumb stimulating your sensitive clit, licking his lips at the sight of his fading marks along your neck and collarbones,,, and the way you’d beg him so prettily when his fingers pull out of your swollen, dripping pussy just before your high, it’s a punishment, after all… or should he praise you for watching~? stroke your hair, a hand on your jaw as he laces your lips with his saliva, wet and tongue in a mess of romantic kisses before guiding you slowly down to his stuff cock, soft whispers and praises when you gaze up at him so shyly and nervously,,, and fuck, the wet sensation of your lips wrapping around his cock so prettily, curiously tasting his precum as your tongue slides around the tip,,, pleasure beyond his own hand as he murmurs guidance through breathy groans, his darling doing so well as he praises you for deepthroating him,,, something he’s still teaching you to do~

his head thrown back, a mess of dark hair against the headboard as yeonjun moans strings of swears, his fantasy driving him into his high as ropes of clear white splatter across his hand and tank top, the slick sound of his fist pumping faster as yeonjun draws out his orgasm,,, fuck, he groans, gazing down at the mess he’s made,,, fantasy made him cum more than he thought~ darling, yeonjun drawls, his voice deep and laced with a cocky sense of knowing,,, i know you’re there. the quiet creak of the door as you guiltily and shyly show yourself,,, hearing the slap of his thigh beckoning you closer. crawling to join him on the messy sheets of his bed, his hand coming up to pet your hair as he ticks you against his shoulder, his chin brushing over the top of your hair as he gazes down, pushing his dripping fingers against your lips. good girl, yeonjun murmurs quietly, watching as your lips tentatively part, taking two fingers in as your tongue licks off his cum in a messy mix of saliva and seed until they’re… clean. now, yeonjun smirks, his hand tipping your chin back, ensuring you’re facing him, a hint of his cum on the corner of your lip, glossy saliva down trailing down to your chin,,, what should i do to you for watching without permission…? do you expect to be praised… or punished?

my relationship w this man is anything but healthy LOL

[marinawolf]

an angsty but somewhat cute supercorp first kiss 😚 fic to make the rest of the week better ❤️

Finally (Supercorp)

by marinawolf

Three times Kara wants to kiss Lena, and one time she does.

-the first time she didn't

The elevator doors slid open to Lena's penthouse, and Kara stepped out, holding a bag of take-out pasta in her hands. She had been looking forward to this evening, to spending quality time with Lena, her best friend. With a hopeful smile on her face, she walked deeper into the penthouse, only to freeze in her tracks as she caught sight of Lena in the kitchen.

Lena, still dressed in her work clothes, stood near the counter where two wine glasses had been set out, a bottle of wine in one hand and a corkscrew in the other. Kara's breath hitched in her throat as her eyes traveled up Lena's figure. The black suit hugged Lena's form perfectly, emphasizing her elegant silhouette. The unbuttoned top of her black button-up shirt revealed a tantalizing glimpse of her collarbone.

Lena's hair was pulled back into a sleek ponytail, emphasizing her sharp features and highlighting the graceful curve of her neck. Kara's gaze traced the lines of Lena's face, the subtle edge of her jawline, and the way her lips parted slightly as she focused on opening the wine bottle. She was captivated by the intensity in Lena's blue-green eyes. Those eyes never failed to leave Kara spellbound.

Unbeknownst to Lena, Kara watched silently. As Lena fidgeted with the corkscrew, her fingers moving with innate grace, Kara's heart pounded in her chest. She was helplessly in love with Lena, and the sight of her like this, so effortlessly alluring, intensified her feelings to an unbearable degree. In that moment, Kara's mind wandered into forbidden territory, as she allowed herself to imagine what it would be like to slip her arms around Lena's slender waist, to press her lips against the soft skin of Lena's neck. But it remained nothing more than a fantasy, a yearning she buried deep within herself.

Suddenly, as if sensing Kara's gaze on her, Lena looked up, and a stunning smile spread across her face, causing Kara's heart to flutter. "Kara," she breathed, "hi." Kara snapped out of her reverie of admiration and smiled back at Lena, holding up the food.

"I got your favourite."

Lena's eyes gaze fell on the bag in Kara's hands, and her smile widened, causing the little dimple in her cheek to show up. That smile always made Kara's heart stop. 

"Kara, L'Ultima Cena is in Metropolis! How did you get this?" Her voice carried a hint of awe.

The truth was that Kara had flown to Metropolis to get Lena's favourite pasta just to see that smile on Lena's face. But she didn't dare tell Lena that. With a bashful shrug, she said, "I was visiting Kal-El today, and I happened to pick it up on the way back."

Lena stepped closer, her eyes shimmering with appreciation, and placed a gentle hand on Kara's arm. "Kara, that means the world to me. Thank you." 

For a brief moment, Kara considered baring her soul, revealing the depths of her love for Lena. But the fear of ruining their friendship held her back, and she took a step back, distancing herself both physically and emotionally. "Oh, it's nothing, really."

They settled in for dinner, as Lena poured the wine and Kara unpacked the take-out, carefully transferring the pasta to plates. The atmosphere was warm and cozy, yet Kara couldn't shake the undercurrent of longing that pulsed beneath the surface.

As they began to eat, Lena launched into a discussion about work, her brows furrowed with a mix of determination and frustration. "I've been trying to acquire this company," she explained, her voice tinged with a hint of exasperation. "But the board is giving me a hard time. I have a meeting with them later this week, and I'm concerned it won't go in my favour."

Kara listened attentively, always enraptured by anything Lena had to say. She reached across the table, placing her hand gently on Lena's. "Lena, you're brilliant. You'll be fine. And anyway, who can resist Lena Luthor?"

Kara couldn't help but notice that a faint blush dusted Lena's cheeks, though she quickly dismissed it, not wanting to read too much into the fleeting moment. Lena squeezed Kara's hand, a gesture of appreciation.

Their conversation shifted, and Lena's tone turned lighter as she inquired about Kara's romantic life. "So, Alex mentioned that Mon-El has been around a lot. How's that going?"

Kara's heart sank at the mention of Mon-El, her mind filled with the unspoken truth that she longed to reveal. But she composed herself, a smile masking her inner turmoil. "We've been on a few casual dates," she admitted, her voice lacking the enthusiasm Lena might have hoped for. "But I'm not sure if it's what I want."

Lena leaned back in her chair, her expression intense as she regarded Kara. “And what do you want, Kara?”

You, Kara thought I want you. But she didn’t dare utter those words and instead, she shrugged. “I’m not sure.”

She saw Lena’s intensity falter slightly, but Lena quickly covered it up before Kara could really think about it.

"Kara, you'll only know if you try,” she said, taking a sip of wine, “And besides, Mon-El is cute and sweet. He may just make you happy."

Kara's heart ached at Lena's words, knowing that the very thing that would make her truly happy sat before her, just out of reach. She mustered a smile, her voice filled with a touch of melancholy. "You're right."

--

Kara's steps were slow and reluctant as she made her way towards the elevator, not wanting the evening to end. Every fiber of her being longed to stay, to linger in Lena's presence for just a little while longer. 

As she reached the elevator, Lena followed closely behind, their footsteps echoing in the quiet entrance hall. A mixture of reluctance and longing washed over Kara, a whirlwind of emotions that threatened to consume her. Before she could step inside, Lena's arms enveloped her in a tight embrace, their usual goodbye, their bodies pressed together in an intimate closeness.

Kara's breath caught in her throat, her heart pounding against her chest. She closed her eyes, allowing herself to savor the moment, to commit it to memory. Lena's embrace felt like home, a place where Kara's heart found solace, if only for a fleeting instant. The soft touch of Lena's face against her neck sent shivers down her spine, and the scent of Lena's perfume filled her senses, intoxicating and enticing.

Reluctantly, they pulled apart, the embrace ending all too soon. Lena's fingers lingered on Kara's arm, and Kara frowned, confused at the lingering touch. She offered a soft smile, her eyes reflecting a longing that she dared not vocalize. As the elevator doors began to close, Kara held Lena's gaze, the ache in her chest intensifying with each passing moment.

The doors sealed their separation, leaving Kara alone in the enclosed space, her thoughts consumed by the desire she dared not act upon. She pressed a hand against her racing heart, her mind flooded with the image of what could have been. She could have closed the gap between them in an instant, but she had stopped herself. 

-the second time she didn't 

The next morning unfolded in the familiar setting of Catco, where Kara could see Lena immersed in the demands of the office, orchestrating the intricacies of her work. Meanwhile, Kara found herself seated at a desk among other reporters, engrossed in the layout for the upcoming issue. Inevitably, her gaze would wander across the bullpen, drawn irresistibly to Lena's presence. And each time their eyes met, Lena would gift her a smile that sent Kara's heart into a frenzy.

Amidst the buzz of the newsroom, Lena gracefully approached Kara, her steps purposeful yet filled with a tenderness that only they shared. As Lena settled on the table in front of Kara, her touch sent a jolt of electricity through Kara's arm. Clad in a mesmerizing white silk shirt, Lena gave off an effortless elegance that rendered Kara breathless.

"Hello, Kara," Lena greeted, her voice carrying a mixture of familiarity and unspoken yearning. The world around them seemed to fade into the background as Lena's presence enveloped Kara's senses. "Have lunch with me?"

Kara mustered a smile in return, her heart pounding against her ribcage as she nodded. She was usually good at keeping up the facade of friendship, hiding her true feelings, but lately, she found it harder and harder to be in Lena's presence. Every time she set eyes on Lena, her feelings threatened to spill out of her.  

They ventured across the street to a quaint café, and Lena surprised Kara by sitting next to her in the booth, instead of opposite her. But Kara knew that it was probably because Lena didn't want to face away from the window. Still, it felt intimate, and did no favours to Kara's heart. 

As they settled in, Lena looked at her.

"So, have you decided about another date with Mon-El?" she asked, her eyes searching Kara's face for answers.

Kara's heart sank again at the mention of Mon-El, realizing the painful truth behind her intentions. She replied, "I might go on another date with him, just to see if there's anything there."

The admission hung in the air, heavy with the weight of Kara's unspoken turmoil. She knew she sought solace in the familiarity of a nice guy like Mon-El, an attempt to bury her longing for Lena beneath the guise of a relationship with someone else. The internal battle raged within her, torn between the fear of unrequited love and the knowledge that she was being extremely unfair to Mon-El.

In that moment, something shifted in Lena's gaze, a flash of intensity that sent a surge of hope coursing through Kara's veins. Lena leaned in slightly, her eyes fixated on Kara's lips, a magnetic pull that threatened to close the gap between them. Kara couldn't resist the urge to close that distance between them. But fate had a cruel sense of timing, as the intrusion of the waiter shattered the fragile bubble they had created. The spell was broken, and Kara instinctively moved away, introducing a physical distance that mirrored the emotional walls she had forced herself to put up. 

They placed their orders, and as the waiter departed, Kara couldn't help but notice his lingering gaze upon Lena's figure, a surge of possessive jealousy coursing through her veins. 

-the third time she didn't 

Kara worked late that night, and was the last of the reporters to leave. Noticing the time, she decided to go upstairs and grab her stuff before retiring for the night. She entered the elevator. The doors opened, and her footsteps faltered as she reached the main floor of the now empty office. Kara's heart sank as she stood frozen. There, in the midst of her own turmoil, she stumbled upon a scene that felt like a dagger piercing her heart. Lena and James stood in Lena's office, their eyes on each other. James held Lena's hand in his own, his eyes soft. Her gaze fixated on their hands, a sight that ignited a surge of jealousy she had long suppressed. The luminous smile adorning Lena's face as she looked up at James was a painful contrast to the ache that consumed Kara's soul. She listened, unable to tear herself away and cursing her super hearing, as their conversation unfolded before her, each word chipping away at her fragile hope.

James, his voice tinged with anticipation, uttered the words that sliced through Kara's heart. "Okay, so I'll pick you up at eight tomorrow?" he said, his tone carrying an undeniable sense of excitement. Lena's response, a soft affirmation, reverberated in Kara's ears, each syllable like a dagger twisting deeper into her wounded heart. "Yes, perfect."

As James exited Lena's office, he greeted Kara and entered the elevator, a foolish smile etched upon his face. Kara forced herself to meet his gaze. She mustered a strained smile in return, masking the turmoil raging within her. Her mind raced with questions and doubts.

Unable to stop herself, Kara barged into Lena's office, her emotions overriding any sense of reason. Lena looked up in surprise at Kara's sudden intrusion and greeted her with a questioning tone, "Kara, hey. What are you still doing here?"

Ignoring Lena's inquiry, Kara forged ahead, attempting to conceal her swirling jealousy beneath a facade of composure. "You're going on a date with James?" she blurted out.

Lena's smile remained unyielding as she took a step closer to Kara, their proximity sending a surge of conflicting emotions through Kara's veins. "Of course, you heard," Lena replied, and Kara could swear that her words were laced with a hint of challenge. "He asked, and I said yes. Who knows? Maybe it'll be great. He's a nice guy."

Kara's heart quickened, her senses hyperaware of the charged atmosphere enveloping them. Lena's gaze dipped momentarily to Kara's lips. The allure of that moment, the temptation to lean in and close the distance between them, tested Kara's resolve.

But fear, like an unwelcome intruder, seized control, urging her to step away and regain her composure. With a measured effort, Kara composed herself and forced a steady tone. "Yeah, he's a great guy. I'm happy for you, Lena."

Her voice masked the heartbreak that threatened to engulf her, concealing the longing and unspoken desires that lay beneath the surface. Kara bid a hasty retreat from Lena's office, leaving behind pieces of her shattered heart in her wake.

-the first time she did 

Kara spent the entire day in a state of despair, dreading the evening when James and Lena would go on their date. She deliberately avoided Lena, unable to bear the ache in her heart. As the night approached, Kara found herself seeking solace in a bottle of alien alcohol, its captivating blue hue calling to her. She drank alone, feeling a slight buzz as the alcohol coursed through her veins. Thoughts of Lena and James consumed her mind—their hands entwined, the possibility of a kiss at the end of the night, Lena's radiant smile directed at him. Jealousy surged within Kara, the mere thought of James touching Lena becoming unbearable.

In her intoxicated state, Kara couldn't bear the thought of not trying at all. With a mix of determination and impulsiveness, she leaped off her balcony and flew to Lena's penthouse, her heart pounding. Kara landed on Lena's balcony and immediately banged on the door, her emotions raw and unfiltered. Lena, in the midst of putting on an earring, opened the door with a look of confusion etched on her face.

"What are you doing here, Kara?" Lena asked, her voice laced with bewilderment. "Is everything okay?"

Breathless and desperate, Kara looked into Lena's eyes, captivated by the stunning black dress she wore. Her words spilled forth in a rush, "Don't go tonight. Please, Lena, don't go on a date with James."

Lena's eyebrows raised in surprise. "Why not?" she inquired, her tone tinged with curiosity and a hint of challenge. She took a step closer to Kara, their proximity electrifying the air between them, "Why shouldn't I go on a date with James, Kara?"

Struggling to find the words, Kara felt her heart pounding in her chest. Without overthinking, she did what she should have done long ago. In an impulsive move, Kara crashed her lips against Lena's, pouring every ounce of her longing, affection, and desire into that single kiss. It was a passionate, breathtaking moment—an outpouring of emotions that had been suppressed for far too long.

Lena responded immediately, her hands finding their place on Kara's waist, as if they had always belonged there, pulling her closer. Time seemed to stand still. Kara couldn't believe that she was kissing Lena and that Lena was kissing her back, their lips moving in a synchrony.

Lena's lips were a revelation to Kara. The taste of her, a perfect blend of whiskey and sweetness, consumed Kara's thoughts, erasing any doubts or fears that had plagued her. She was lost in the sensation, unable to believe that this long-awaited moment was finally happening.

Every tender brush and urgent press of their lips was an act of longing and release, a culmination of unspoken desires that had silently pulsed between them. 

In that intoxicating kiss, Kara found solace and fulfillment. It was as if a weight had been lifted from her heart, replaced by a sense of completeness she had yearned for but never thought possible. The touch of Lena's lips against hers unleashed a flood of emotions she could no longer contain.

Time seemed to stand still as their kiss deepened, fueled by longing and unspoken declarations of love. Kara's hands instinctively sought the contours of Lena's body, pulling her closer. Kara reveled in the moment, her mind buzzing with euphoria, unable to comprehend the sheer intensity of the emotions rising within her. This was real, tangible, and more beautiful than any dream she had ever dared to imagine.

Reluctantly, they eventually pulled away, their breaths mingling in the space between them. Lena's voice, barely above a whisper, broke the silence.

"Took you long enough," she uttered against Kara's lips, a trace of playfulness in her tone.

[dottiro]

Hide & Seek [ i. ]

Unreliable synopsis: How many masks can you stack on one face? / What happened to Zandik? Warnings: This is experimental and involves my own interpretation of Dottore, this will be dark content, no proofread

A grim sky declares the first signs of a rapidly approaching storm. Clouds flock together, growing darker as they gather energy. Thus, rain begins to fall steadily. At first, with rhythm—dancing down, until its intensity overwhelms and everyone caught in it has to seek shelter. Finally, it reaches a climax. Lightning flashes, abrupt and blinding, followed by roaring thunder, deafening everyone with its fierce violence.

The storm has come, and soon it’ll pass—as all eventually will.

But ‘Zandik’ doesn’t.

ㅤ

ㅤ

· · ────── Ω ────── · ·

ㅤ

In the dining room, at the other end of the long table, a stranger sits in your captor’s chair. His crimson eyes are stern and focused on the steak placed on a porcelain plate before him. You watch as Dottore lifts his knife and fork between his slender fingers. He pierces the fork in, keeping the red meat in place, and then proceeds to cut it with the precision of a surgeon. 

His actions are delicate and not without purpose. He seems foreign in his home—too different from the enigmatic Zandik you met in the Akademiya. 

His pale blue hair is slicked back, safe for the two strands that frame his face. And however he might’ve tried to tame his blue locks, the ends curl up and create waves in his otherwise perfectly orchestrated appearance. 

Your eyes move to his neck which flexes when he brings the fork to his mouth. The silver utensil shines underneath the orange light from the chandelier above, something the metal parts of his single earring imitate. It hangs vertically against next to his jawline, showing off his rigid posture—something that feels out of place when he is supposedly enjoying dinner.

You try to fathom what has changed between this morning and now. 

Earlier, when he had approached you, you had gotten a glimpse of his full outfit. Simple, yet elegant, Zandik shows he made an effort to look perfect this evening. A dark sapphire button-up blouse is rolled up to his elbows, with the top buttons loose and showing off his collarbones. On top of the blue, he wears a white sleeveless blazer, decorated with charcoal-colored designs crossing his chest. To match the formal style, he wears black flat-front pants in a darker colour worn a little lower on the waistline to showcase his slender silhouette. Finally, the look is completed with a glimpse of his pristine white socks and black dress shoes. 

If you didn’t know better, you could’ve believed he had an important meeting to go to.

If you didn’t know better, you could’ve hoped he would’ve left, if only for a few hours. 

But you do know better. 

The reality of the current circumstances is as unfortunate as it is confusing. While you had locked yourself away in the gallery room, he had found you and instructed you to follow him. Having no courage to reject him, you followed him from one end of the mansion to the other. 

The whole time you were forced to chase his tense figure. Back then, aside from the obvious change in clothing and his improbable request for you to join him, you had already noticed something was different. He walked without rhythm, shoulders broad and tight, with his arms crossed behind his back… it seemed programmed—mechanical in the aspect he carried himself.

Part of you is convinced that his outfit is an indirect claim of power over you. While he allows himself to put effort into his appearance, you’re stuck with your old clothes from Sumeru, which; first of all, do nothing against the cold; but furthermore make you feel out in place, across from him at the table—underneath the crystal chandelier and china vases with intricate designs. 

For someone who decided to keep you at his side no matter the cost, a part of him seems keen to forget and neglect you. 

But not this one.

“Is the food unsatisfactory for your standards?” His voice is distant, robotic, and final. It’s not a question, but rather a statement.

You look at the plate in front of you. Red juices spread from your steak. To add colour to your otherwise dark thoughts, a spoonful of mashed potatoes and a mix of roasted veggies balance the meal. The utensils remain in their rightful place as you had found them; the fork on the left side of your plate, and the dull knife on the right. 

Your appetite had left when you first met this Zandik.

“I’m not hungry.” 

Your rebut comes out bland. It’s a tasteless excuse with no seasoning compared to the meal on the plate. You stumble over the tight composure you had tried to mimic as you hastily add, “I overate for lunch.”

Zandik’s eyes haven’t left yours from the moment he first spoke. Despite the dining room being void of homey furniture and bringing a cold feeling to the table, his frozen movements are the ones to incite the shiver that embraces your spine. 

He tilts his head lower, eyes drifting from your right eye to your left. “Since when has your appetite decreased?” he asks; being either curious or accusingly. 

Your hands move over to hover above the utensils. You try to shake him off, preferring the silence over the interrogation. “It’s fine. I’ll eat.”

He watches you hesitate. With shaky hands, you move your fork undecidingly over the plate. Every choice seems like a test and you fear to fail. Your eyes glance back at him, seeking some twisted form of assurance in the hopes you’ll find a right answer between all the same wrong choices, only to snap away when you meet his red eyes observing you. 

A test. This must be a test—!

You wish to go outside and let yourself be locked in by the snow. At the very least, it’d be much more preferable than your current cage. Between the thousand individual snowflakes, you’d be embraced by the coldness until your body would scream at you and force you back inside. It’s a constant cycle of trying to find a way out only to end up where you had started, and you wonder if the everlasting storm outside is that much different from Zandik.

Unlike the man sitting across from you, you avoid the steak. The red juices remind you too much of the blood that’s been spilt by his hands before and it makes your stomach churn in response. 

Your fork decides to pierce some of the tiny roasted carrots. You bring it to your mouth, focusing too much on the taste until you find everything you dislike. 

In the end, you gulp it down to your dismay.

You don’t notice the passage of time until a hand takes the plate away from your vision.

There is love in this gesture—as if he were apologising for his previous actions.

This time, your stranger waits in the room; letting you be the one to abandon him instead.

©dottiro. Do not copy, repost, translate, feed to AI, or take heavy inspiration from my content. Thank you for reading ♡

[satans-helper]

Loopy

Pairing: Josh Kiszka x Danny Wagner

Word Count: ~4900

Warnings: 420 blaze it; stoned sex ft. frottage. 18+ only

Just wanted to write about these two, specifically from around 2019 <3 Hope you enjoy!

---

“Shit,” Danny muttered breathlessly, leaning back in the driver’s seat. The windows were all up and all fogged so the outside world was almost entirely invisible–that was just fine with Josh, who was sitting in the passenger seat, basking in the warmth and the musky, earthy fragrance that filled the small space. Danny sighed contentedly and rolled his head to the side, looking right at him as he said, “I wish I could feel like this forever.” 

Josh giggled a little, already way higher than he expected to get. Actually, he hadn’t expected to get high at all–he’d expected to just meet Danny at their usual spot, swap cash for weed and part ways. They smoked together after the deal was done fairly often, but not every time, and today Danny had seemed oddly on edge before they started smoking. 

“Don’t you feel like this most of the time?” Josh quipped, flicking the lighter back to life to take another hit. Was smoking yourself sober a real thing? If so, he thought he might inadvertently make it happen if they smoked anymore. He thought of himself as a certified stoner, but Danny lived on another planet. 

Danny laughed louder than Josh had ever heard him, tilting his head back so he was looking out into the fogged glass. “Most of the time, yeah. It’s par for the course, man,” he said. When he reached for the bowl that Josh passed back, their fingers brushed and Josh’s whole hand tingled so much with the touch, it was like Danny was made of lightning. 

An onset of loud pitter-patters began to hit the car; fat droplets of rain smacked the windows and made glossy trails. Josh watched them, each one seeming to move in slow motion, and the music from the car stereo began to drown out with the sound of the heavy downpour. 

“Oh, man,” Danny remarked, tapping on his window and peering out. “Look at that.”

Josh followed his gaze out the driver’s side, managing a glimpse of billowing wet, green leaves outside through the fog. It was so cozy inside the car, inside the haze, sitting with his own nervous but excited energy and Danny’s friendly, easygoing presence. He didn’t want to leave. He’d keep smoking until the whole half ounce he bought was gone if it meant more time together. 

Danny answered Josh’s silent plea by announcing, turning again to look into his dry, slightly bleary eyes: “Looks like we’re not going anywhere for a bit. Want me to pack another?”

Josh’s heart hammered along with the rain. “I can do it,” he offered, already reaching for the bag of weed he’d bought. 

Danny gave a playful, light shove to his shoulder. “Nah, stop it. I said I’d smoke you up, so let me smoke you up.” He grinned while he retrieved the little plastic jar he was keeping his current stash in. “Save yours for another rainy day. Right?”

Normally, Josh was sure he’d have something cute and witty to reply with. But he was so stoned and so giddy with his elation of being mere inches away from Danny that his brain felt like nothing more than a mass of candy-colored swirls, his usual thoughts lost in the mix. He hadn’t had a crush like this in ages, and never did he think he’d ever be down bad for a dealer. Not that he had anything against dealers, at least not people who sold the “soft” stuff–he had lots of experience with plenty of them since high school–but Danny was just different. 

And gorgeous. Josh had noticed that right away. Danny was gorgeous now, with the faint pink flush across the bridge of his nose and his cheekbones; the way his dark, loose curls fell against his shoulders, the ends brushing against his collarbones that were just barely visible thanks to the few undone buttons of his shirt. Josh could even see a bit of his chest hair, stark in color and contrasting with the subtle golden hue of his skin. Josh found himself staring at that triangular spot of skin revealed between the flannel shirt, counting his chest hairs, wondering what his skin would feel like under his hands.

“What?” Danny asked, breaking the trance. When Josh looked up, he was quickly put under another spell because those damn eyes–he could get lost in them. Lost in them like the deep, dark and mysterious woods they resembled, all lush and mossy and scattered with patches of sunlight. Actually, Josh thought, slightly amused, a little like some really good, dank buds. 

“What?” Josh chirped back, his face growing hot. His whole body really, and it wasn’t just the weed anymore. He was embarrassed–not an emotion he frequently felt. Danny just did that to him. Every time they met up for Josh to buy, his heart would go wild. It had taken a few deals for his hands to stop shaking when they exchanged goods. Now, he felt like he was back at square one and his only relief would be the usual–going home to have a slow, fuzzy jerk-off session while thinking about Danny’s hand wrapped around his cock instead of his own.

“You were staring at me,” Danny said, his own face looking even more flushed. Was it the weed or was it–no, no way it could be Danny also being embarrassed. What did he have to be embarrassed about? But his hands were idle, no longer working to pack the next bowl, as if waiting for Josh to speak some sort of revelation.

Maybe it was a revelation, because Josh felt so bold for no good reason that he actually said, “Yeah. You’re hard to not stare at.”

Danny looked away, eyes on the dashboard for a split second before he looked back at Josh. “In a good way or a bad way?”

Josh scoffed, shaking his head. “Oh come on,” he said, his shaky hands also returning. He started something here–he just wasn’t sure what. Hope was a loose thread in his heart, but his high head was veering into the land of paranoia, and if Danny wasn’t at least going to be nice about letting him down, Josh was sure he’d never recover. 

“Sooo,” Danny began as he began to finally crumble the weed into the bowl, head down and giving Josh a perfect view of that perfect profile. “In a good way?”

“In a very good way.” Josh licked the backs of his bottom teeth, trying to awaken some saliva and curb the intense cottonmouth that was only getting worse with his nerves. It was so bad he was half-tempted to open the window and stick his head out, open his mouth and try to catch some of the rainfall. 

The smallest smile curved Danny’s lips. “Thanks,” he said, thumb and forefinger placing the last crumb of weed into the bowl. “You’re cute.”

Josh felt like his brain fully short-circuited at the sound of those words. He’d heard it a thousand times from a thousand different people but hearing it from Danny was, well, different. The compliment reverberated and echoed in his ears, sounding louder than the song from the stereo and the rain still hammering the car.

“You’re the hottest dealer I’ve ever had,” Josh said. It was the first thing he clearly thought and despite being a cheap compliment, he hoped against all hope that it would work in his favor. 

Danny laughed, tossing his head back, so loud again–Josh loved that sound. He wanted to hear it more often. He wanted to make Danny laugh like that all the time. 

“How many dealers have you had?” he asked, pivoting in his seat so one leg was cocked, one foot on the floor, eyes locked on Josh as he christened the new bowl with the flame. Josh’s eyes wandered down to the apex of Danny’s thighs covered in blue denim, briefly zeroing in on the zipper fly that was slightly bulging. 

“Um–enough to know I’m not gonna find another one as hot as you?” Josh replied, not intending it to come out insecure and like a question. But Danny’s gaze was suddenly intense and piercing, like the single hit had supercharged him with intimidating confidence. Josh also had to hold out hope that the bowl being passed to him again would do the same.

Danny leaned back, one arm slung across the driver’s seat while the other rested on the dashboard. He was as spread out as he could be, taking up space while simultaneously keeping his body so open that Josh knew he could easily crawl over to him and close the gap, share the space with him. He was silent as Josh took his hit, still looking right at him, lips slightly pursed in thought, brows just ever so slightly furrowed. 

Screw short-circuiting–Josh had to wonder if he was straight-up tripping when Danny asked, “Do you get horny when you smoke?”

Josh coughed wildly, bringing a hand to his chest from shock and the sharp discomfort in his lungs. He shoved the bowl back at Danny and waved the plume of smoke away from his face so he could see whatever facial expression Danny was wearing–his face was calm, curious, his eyes searching Josh’s face too, waiting for an answer.

At least he didn’t have to doubt anymore. This was it, Josh deduced–the invitation he’d only ever dreamed of. 

He inched closer in the passenger seat, sidling up against the center console. He’d peeked in there earlier when Danny had opened it–CDs, a phone charger, numerous lighters, rolling papers, a mini bottle of Listerine. It all made sense. Now, pressed up against it, Josh was wondering what was in Danny’s other compartments–what did he keep in the top drawer of his dresser? His bedroom nightstand? What cereals were in his kitchen cupboard? What on earth was the cologne he was wearing that smelled so warm and rich even through the dense scent of weed and where did he keep the bottle?

Josh wasn’t used to racing thoughts while stoned. He wanted to be grounded. He wanted to crawl into the space between Danny’s thighs and kiss his flushed cheeks and bite his lip, run his fingers through his chest hair with one hand and use the other to tug on his hair.

“Sometimes, yeah,” Josh finally answered. He was horny. He was half-hard in his pants just from Danny’s presence and the brief conversation, if that was even the right word for it. 

The hand on the dashboard slowly moved away and down–Josh swallowed hard, confused and entranced, as he watched Danny palm himself through his jeans. “Me too,” he said, his thumb running over the zipper of his fly. He coughed a little and smiled. “Like right now.”

“Fuck,” was all Josh could say, mind still racing while simultaneously feeling foggy, as foggy as the car’s interior and windows. 

“Sure,” Danny said, and Josh was frozen as his long body allowed him to fluidly slink forward past the center console–then Josh was forced to move because two of Danny’s fingers were hooked in his necklace and tugging him forward. 

He closed his eyes just before the kiss came, too stunned and bewildered to watch the whole thing in motion. Everything faded away–the music, the rain, the air blowing from the vents, the smell of the weed–when Danny’s lips found his. Josh relaxed into the kiss, his shoulders slumping; when Danny’s hands gently fumbled on his hips, Josh brought his hands up to cradle his face, finally feeling the warm, soft skin he’d imagined so many times. 

“Is this really happening?” he mumbled against Danny’s lips as the kisses became a little faster, a little deeper. His hands were finding those curls, his fingers sinking into each strand of hair, to keep Danny in place like he’d float away if he didn’t.

“If you want it to,” Danny said, one hand on the back of Josh’s neck, the other still on his hip. Before Josh could even try to answer with words, Danny kissed him harder, moaning softly, trying to pull him forward some more. 

Josh went with it. Although his limbs felt heavy and stiff as he crawled over the console and into the driver’s seat, as soon as he was pressed up against Danny’s body, he felt loose and relaxed. Just how he’d felt when they’d first started smoking and his fantasies were just fantasies and he could zone out with the high, lost in blissful images. Now, his weed high was being replaced by a different one–a high made of soft kisses, urgent touches and the intoxicating scent of that cologne that was stuck to Danny’s skin, all a welcome torrent of blissful and real sensations. 

“I really want to,” Josh told him, unbuttoning Danny’s shirt to further prove it. He was finding his words again, but there was still too much he wanted to say, all these desires from their compounded meetings coming to fruition. So he settled for rutting his hips against Danny’s; Danny grabbed Josh’s ass and pulled him right into his lap, and Josh ducked down to keep kissing him. 

The swapping of spit kept his tongue and lips comfortably moist, and Danny tasted like the same weed they’d been smoking and the sharp mint that Josh could assume came from that bottle of Listerine. Had he wanted this to happen too or was swishing and spitting just a habit? Their hands wandered easily over each other’s bodies as Josh considered this; their kisses were slow and steady, and the rain outside kept coming down, adding to the strangely cozy nature of the progressing rendez-vous.

It was all really happening, and all of Josh’s prior doubts were falling away. It seemed so silly now to think that Danny had never thought of some of the same things. When Josh tugged Danny’s shirt apart and rubbed his thumbs over his nipples, Danny arched his back and dug his fingers into Josh’s waist with a deep groan.

“God, you’re sexy,” Josh remarked quietly, looking at Danny’s face again before he started to press soft kisses to his neck. Between them, he could feel Danny’s erection pressing against his own, both of them trapped in their respective pants. Confined to a car, how much could they really comfortably do? Josh wished they were back at his place, or Danny’s even, on a big, soft bed instead of the narrow, firm upholstered seats. 

Not that he ultimately really minded; Danny didn’t seem to either. His hands were slipping beneath Josh’s t-shirt, ticklish touches across his stomach; Josh giggled into the crook of his neck and Danny chuckled softly as one hand wandered back down and landed on Josh’s crotch. 

Just the dull sensation of Danny cupping him through his pants made Josh’s head spin–he wanted more, as much as he could get. He cupped Danny’s cheeks and pulled him into another kiss as he began to grind in his lap, trying to make some more friction. The scant metal of Danny’s zipper and button were proving nice to rub up against, but he still needed more; he reached down to get it undone, Danny nibbling on his bottom lip at the same time.

Danny let out a little huff as Josh grabbed his cock, feeling the size and heat of it through his boxers. Josh broke their languid kisses to look down at what he was feeling–Danny was big, definitely. He’d figured as much. 

Danny put a hand on the back of Josh’s neck, his fingertips brushing through his curls: “Wanna see it?”

Josh nodded, their foreheads pressed together; Danny leaned back and Josh sat back, giving him the bit of space that was possible. Danny brought his hands down to take it out himself and Josh’s mouth was even less dry at the sight of Danny’s cock–big and hard, the head a darker pink and already leaking the tiniest bit of pearly precum. When Danny wrapped his hand around it–his big hand with the long fingers–not even he could cover the entire shaft. Josh just kept staring as Danny lifted his hips and pulled his boxers and jeans down a few inches, exposing his balls and the tops of his thighs, too fixated to know what to do with himself.

Danny gave a shallow nod, his eyes on Josh’s groin. “I wanna see you too,” he said, his voice low and inviting, as he gave one long, easy stroke to himself. 

There was barely enough room on the driver’s side for even Josh to mirror Danny’s prior actions with a modicum of grace. His elbow banged into the dashboard when he pulled his pants down; Danny chuckled and laid a hand on his knee, giving it a gentle squeeze. 

“Damn,” Danny said, his gaze still on Josh’s groin that was now bared straight to him. Danny’s face was slightly blurred in the lingering haze of smoke and humidity, but when he started to inch closer, closing the gap by pushing Josh back against the center console, Josh’s vision of him became clearer. Josh laid back against it, looking up at him until he winced at the hard plastic digging into the back of his neck. 

“That’s no good,” Danny remarked, then he was shrugging himself out of his shirt and stuffing it beneath Josh’s neck and upper back, giving a shallow, warm and fragrant cushion. He sighed softly as he let his lower body rest on top of Josh’s. “Is that any better?”

Distracted by the first subtle but still intense contact of their erections being pushed together, Josh forgot to answer right away. When he saw Danny smile a little and felt fingers gently running down his neck, Josh said, “Yeah. Yeah, it’s better.” He placed his hands on Danny’s bare waist, one skimming down and over so he could touch the dark happy trail beneath his navel. “Still kinda wish we were on a bed though. Or a couch.”

Danny rolled his hips a bit, really rubbing their cocks together. “Next time,” he said, planting the hand that wasn’t traveling across Josh’s chest onto the center console, right next to his head.

“There’ll be a next time?” Josh asked, tensing with grueling anticipation as Danny let a long string of saliva slide down from his lips and onto their cocks. He gripped Danny’s waist harder, the skin beneath his fingers turning red with his squeezing. 

Danny slid the spit around both of them, his fist a tight vice that kept both of their cocks together within; he nodded, looking down at what he was doing between them for a moment, then met Josh’s gaze again. “For sure,” he said, the sound of his voice and the simple but titillating words looping through Josh’s brain. The hand between them was gone, replaced by more of his weight pressing down, then Danny was kissing Josh again, taking the air right from his lungs and the words right from his tongue.

Confined to the small space of the car, locked in all of his clothes, trapped beneath nearly the full weight of Danny on top of him–so much potential for discomfort, to feel helpless and stuck. But Josh felt nothing but bliss and wanting, the wanting so deep and aching now that Danny really was there on top of him, grinding their hips together and kissing him hard and fast, moaning softly against his lips and playing with his hair with his spit-dampened fingers. Josh felt like he could stay there and keep doing all of that forever.

“I know it’s not the same,” Danny said, speaking against Josh’s lips before he kissed him again, then pulled back from the kiss as his hips pushed forward. “But y’know–given the circumstances–”

“No, no,” Josh said, breathless and wrapping his arms around Danny’s shoulders. “It’s good.” He couldn’t do much in his position, but he was able to grind upwards for a couple seconds, moving with Danny’s rhythm. The friction they were creating and the new high they were chasing might not have been the same, but that didn’t make it any less perfect.  

Danny let out a small huff with his efforts, grinding harder, shoving the weight of his lower body straight down in a surprisingly concentrated way. Josh bit his lip, stifling what he thought might be too pathetic of a whine, but Danny intercepted with another kiss. He swiped the tip of his tongue over the slight tooth imprint in Josh’s bottom lip and caressed his face; the intimacy forced a real whine from Josh’s throat that was caught between their mouths, and he could feel the slight smile on Danny’s lips after the sound tore out of him.

Josh could feel more needy, desperate sounds building up in his chest. When Danny broke away and braced his hand on the center console again, keeping himself propped up while he looked down, Josh kept the sounds locked in his throat. There was no way he could let them out when Danny was looking at him like that, deeply into his eyes with such an open, vulnerable gaze; he didn’t even need to say anything. Josh could see the same desire he felt reflected in Danny’s eyes, and his pupils had become so huge that he could just barely make out his own literal reflection in the blackness. And Danny’s skin, so silky and rosy–his face, but his body too. His chest was flushed and his entire body was vividly warm on top of Josh’s; when Josh took half a second to glance at the windows, he couldn’t see the outside world at all anymore.

A little line creased between Danny’s eyebrows as his jaw visibly tightened and he let out a low, quiet groan. “God, Josh,” he said, so soft and so sweet were those words from his swollen pink lips. It looked like he was going to say something else, but then he was spitting into his hand, leaning back and wrapping that hand around both his and Josh’s cock, jerking them both off with a shocking onset of gusto.

Josh’s back arched and a loud, long moan ripped right out of him. He reached out to grab Danny’s hip, hooking his thumb through the belt loop of his jeans to encourage Danny even more; he closed his eyes, sinking even further into the feelings and the sounds, but then Danny said his name again.

“I want you to come so hard,” Danny said, looking wild and beautiful, so much so that Josh had no doubts about obliging. Just hearing the slight growl in those words and seeing the way Danny’s hair fell against his shoulders, the way his throat bobbed as he threw his head back, was more than enough to bring Josh right to the edge. 

“Fuck yes, that’s it,” Danny hissed, looking down at what Josh could feel was both of their generous streams of precum mixing together in his hand. Danny kept stroking–Josh kept panting and whimpering and staring at him as the smooth velvet of Danny’s cock rubbed against his own, the spit and precum keeping the slide sticky, the friction luxuriously wet. 

Josh was surprised–and delighted–that Danny came first. He threw his head back again as he moaned; Josh watched his shoulders shudder and his chest heave, then looked down at his hips stuttering and the motion of his arm and hand slow down. He could feel the additional warm, wet stickiness of Danny’s cum that made him want to come too. 

With a sigh, Danny let go of himself. He brought his full focus to Josh, keeping his hand wrapped solely around his throbbing wet erection; Josh squirmed while his own chest heaved hard, his breathing ragged, and then his vision was blurring and blacking out entirely as his eyes closed of their own volition. But as his own orgasm rolled through his body and he spilled into Danny’s hand, within the blackness behind his eyes, Josh could still see only him.

When he opened his eyes, Danny was still there, of course. He looked calm and relaxed–he was still perched on top of Josh but his weight had diminished with the slackness of his body and the release of all that energy. The same went for Josh, who was loose like goo in the middle of the front seats, still trying to catch his breath as Danny ducked down to kiss him all gentle and sweet.

“You’re really something,” Danny said when he was sitting back, creating space between them for the first time in which Josh could only guess how long. He wiped his hand on his discarded shirt, then lifted his hips up from the driver’s seat to pull his boxers and jeans back up; Josh managed to do the same after a couple more seconds of collecting his mental bearings. 

Flopping back into the passenger seat, Josh said, “So are you, Danny.” He wished the center console didn’t exist at all so he could stay close without it being awkward–the idea of trying to cuddle, crammed in the driver’s seat together, wasn’t really romantic. But just as Josh was once again dashing away his own little hopes, Danny whisked them to life again by leaning straight across the front of the car and pressing his clean hand to Josh’s cheek.

“I really like your face,” he said, making Josh’s heart ramp up again. Danny’s fingers brushed over his cheekbone and then his jaw before it was gone and Josh just felt the residual tingle of where his touch once had been. 

“I really like yours too,” Josh told him, sparing a quick look at the slight bit of himself that he could catch in the rearview mirror while Danny put his dirty shirt back on. He couldn’t see much, so he hoped he didn’t look as wrecked as he felt–Danny looked depleted but glorious behind the wheel again, and excitement bubbled in Josh’s belly when he lifted the bowl to light again. 

Danny exhaled more smoke, then passed the bowl and lighter over to Josh. “I really like you, Josh. As a whole person,” he said, looking a little shy again. God, it was so cute. Josh had to look away as he took his hit, trying to find a little composure. “It sounds lame, but I’m really glad you started buying from me.”

Josh laughed. The single hit of weed seemed to reignite his previous high, in addition to Danny’s charm. “Yeah, I’m glad about that too. Is it safe to say that, after all this, I’m your favorite customer?” 

Danny laughed too. He backed up against the driver door, facing Josh, legs splayed as much as he could. “No doubt about it.” He leaned forward to take the bowl Josh passed back and let his fingers linger on Josh’s hand, keeping them suspended in air for a moment. “I’ll always smoke you up. But maybe next time, we could do something else too?”

Josh was delighted. He perked up in the passenger seat, Danny’s question echoing in his ears along with the rain that was still pounding down. “Something else in addition to doing this but in a bed instead of a car?”

Another laugh. Danny nodded with the bowl to his lips. “Exactly,” he said, slightly strained with the smoke in his lungs before he exhaled. He smiled, eyes bright. “What do you think?”

“So like…a date?” Josh asked, able to picture it so easily. They’d talked a bit about what else they like to do–he could imagine romping around outside somewhere with Danny, holding hands while they walked a trail with the sun high above their heads. He’d be happy with just about anything.

“Yeah, a date,” Danny affirmed, then cleared his throat. “If you want.” He looked away, his dark hair shielding his face, until Josh took it upon himself to crawl back over the console and sidle up against him. 

“It’s really adorable when you’re shy,” he said, resting his cheek on Danny’s shoulder. “But you should know that I’ve been thinking about doing all sorts of things with you since the first time we met.”

“Oh,” Danny said, chuckling. He tilted his head to rest on top of Josh’s. “That’s good, because I’ve been a little loopy for you since the first time too.” 

Josh smiled to himself. “Am I just flattering myself, or might that be why you seemed a little edgy earlier?”

Danny slid his arm around Josh’s waist and squeezed him a bit, warm and strong. “Yeah. You make me nervous.” 

“Same,” Josh said with a short bark of a laugh, so surprised again, so overjoyed that his world had been illuminated within what would have otherwise just been a slow, dreary afternoon. He was wholly content to hang out there in the dank air, content to be crammed in the car cuddling with Danny until the rain finally stopped. 

---

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[phantomspiderr]

Make A Wish

Pairing: Marc Spector x gn!reader, Steven Grant x gn!reader, Jake Lockley x gn!reader

Summary: a little glimpse at how each of the boys would treat you on your birthday

a/n: it’s my birthday🥰 and these thoughts came to me right before I went to sleep the other night

Marc

“baby, wake up”

his quiet voice would stir you from your slumber and you would grumble, whining when he continued to intrude in on your sleeping state

marc would slowly be pressing kisses to your face and neck, along your shoulders and collarbones

eventually you would peek into the dark room, surprised to see it’s still pitch black and you can barely see marc right in front of you

you’d gaze over to look at the bedside clock, seeing it’s only a minute past midnight

you’d only been asleep for a short time, nowhere near long enough

“sleep”

you’d whisper while pathetically attempting to shove him off of you

marc of course was still firmly in place looking down at you

“it’s your birthday”

he’d press a kiss to the corner of your mouth, a big smile on his own lips when he pulled back

this man may not care about his own birthday anymore but he sure as hell cares about yours

you would hum still caught up in a sleepy haze

“happy birthday sweetheart”

marc would kiss you slow and sweet

his arms would cage in your head, fingertips grazing the top of your head

your hands would slowly move their way into his hair, holding him closer

then you’d be whining when he pulled back, your brain confused about what it wants more; him or sleep

“hold on”

then his warmth was gone from above you, making the cold of the room more noticeable to you

you’d move up the bed to lean against the headboard when you see a small light in his hands, curiously watching as marc lights a small candle

“make a wish”

your heart would instantly melt

marc would hold out the candle towards you, a huge smile on his illuminated face

and in that moment you can’t think of a single thing you’d want to wish for except this right here

but still you would firmly close your eyes before blowing out the candle

“what did you wish for?”

“if I told you it wouldn’t come true now, would it?”

you would press a firm kiss to his lips

then you would be pulling him back to lay down, forcing like you’d need to him to cuddle with you

“you’re really not going to tell me?”

marc wold whisper after a few moments of silence and you’d laugh

“I wish you’d let me go back to sleep”

Steven

would wake you up similar to how marc did with kisses and quiet whispers

"happy birthday, my love"

you'd wake up feeling all loved and happy, a big smile on your face as you stretch and wrap your arms around him to pull him closer

cuddling like that while he keeps pressing kisses onto your neck

then he'd surprise you with breakfast in bed

you'd both cuddle up next to each other and pick at the food while you discuss what you wanted to do with the day

even if Steven already had the day planned to a tee

he'd insist you go shower and get ready for the day while he tidied up the mess he'd made in the kitchen

once you were dressed, you would go find him just finishing up in the kitchen but what would catch your eye was the pretty little box with a big bow sitting on the kitchen island

"is this for me?"

you'd ask with the biggest puppy dog eyes and Steven would nod with a big grin

the little box would contain a stunning gold necklace with a crescent moon

and tears would instantly pool in your eyes

"do you like it?"

Steven nervously fidgeted across the island and you'd immediately reach over until both your lips met

"I love it"

he'd smile before kissing you again

then he would come around to gently put the necklace around your neck and he would be so happy to see the shiny moon sitting against your chest

something would 100% stir in him at seeing that his symbol on you

“thank you”

you would wrap your arms around him, hugging him tightly

you’d stay stuck like that for longer than necessary, swaying together

Jake

you'd answer the door to a delivery driver holding a pretty large box

and now you're staring at the note you'd found inside

wear this, I'll pick you up at 5 J x

now it made sense why he disappeared, saying he needed to run an errand

inside the box would be a beautiful outfit that you distinctly remember telling Jake you loved but that you had no reason to spend that amount of money on

the gift made you smile and forget momentarily about how much you needed to scold him for spending that much money on you

but even still you'd be sitting waiting for him in the clothes he'd provided

Jake would of course show up at 5 o'clock on the dot

there would be a small bouquet of red roses in his hand

and he'd greet you with a kiss on the cheek, muttering something in Spanish when he pulled back to look at you

"where are we going?"

"it's a surprise"

Jake would open the car door for you, insist on holding your hand in the car or resting it on your thigh, then he'd guide you down the street with a hand firmly pressed to your lower back

"no way"

you'd stop in front of the fancy restaurant, the one you had read amazing reviews of and hadn't stopped mentioning for the last month

it was always busy, and difficult to get a reservation but here you were being escorted into the building and being seated right at the window

looking out in complete wonder at the twinkling lights of the city

Jake would reach his hand across the table inviting you to place your own in his

he would encourage you to talk, tell him stories of past birthdays while he wholeheartedly listened

he’d insist that you order whatever you wanted when you cringed slightly at the prices, he’d even insist that you both have the full three courses, insisting even harder that you deserved anything

“mi amor, you will have anything and everything. I will make sure of that”