#more cheeks i need to smoosh

[frnkiebby]

another jacket i desperately need~🎃

[vitaecryptid]

Blade HSR for character bingo

AHAHAHAHAHA getting a bingo on blade is fitting

[himbosandhardwear]

"Look who's talking, Mr Ponytail and a Crop Top," Steve says with a smartass grin.

Eddie looks down. "Huh?"

"You," he waves toward Eddie's general vicinity, "looking like some kinda Metal Cheerleader." He noticably swipes his tongue over his bottom lip.

Okay. This is it, this is the perfect moment to tell Steve he's sending signals that he definitely doesn't understand he's sending.

"Steve," he has to clear his throat before continuing, "I need to tell you something."

He leans in, wide eyed and focused. "Yeah?"

That's not helpful. "Um. So, to guys like me... Gay," he chokes out, still hard to say aloud even though he knows Steve knows, "sometimes you say things or do things that come off as...flirty. And I know you didn't know," he rushes to explain, "but I wanted to make you aware. To not do that. You know, in case the wrong person overhears it. It's a safety concern," he finishes lamely. Safety concern! Ugh. More like 'You're breaking my heart, I can't take much more of it.'

He waits for Steve to say something but he's just blinking owlishly.

"Steve?" He prompts, concerned.

"......yeah?" He finally seems to come back to himself. His eyes drift away, over Eddie's shoulder. "So...you want me to stop flirting?"

"Yeah, just in case, you never know who-" Wait. What? "What?"

Steve still isn't looking him in the eye. "What?" He mumbles.

"Did you say..." He can't even repeat it, it sounds like putting words in his mouth, but he did say that, right?

"Yeah. Sorry. I'll stop. I didn't realize it was bad, I guess. I thought... It's stupid. Nevermind. I'm gonna, um, take off actually. I'll see ya around, maybe."

He hops off the back of the van and actually starts walking away, like they're not 6 miles from his house. That snaps Eddie out of the paralysis spell he was under, adrenaline taking over like a bump of cocaine.

"No!" He shouts, like an insane person, and then takes it one step further by jumping up and tackling Steve into the grass.

"Uggff," Steve grunts when Eddie accidentally shoulders him in the gut, but he ignores the embarrassment in favor of crawling up his body so they're eye to eye.

He gets Steve's face between two hands and smooshes it. "Were you flirting with me on purpose?" He shouts.

"Are you serious?" He mumbles, half coherent, through pursed lips. "I'm gonna jump into the quarry."

"Answer the question!" He rattles Steve's head a little bit, for good measure.

"I work for Scoops Ahoy." Steve deadpans, unamused.

Eddie is going to throw one hell of a tantrum in a second. "Steve."

He smacks Eddie's hands away from his face. Doesn't bother to move out from under Eddie, he notes absently. "Yes, dude, obviously I was flirting with you on purpose! I thought that was, like, an understood thing that was happening. Why are you surprised?"

He feels like he's losing his mind. Why are you surprised the grass is made out of taffy? Would've made more sense as a question.

"Because you're straight." The duh is implied.

Sensibly, he asks, "Why would I flirt with you if I was straight?"

Eddie becomes very aware of every inch they are pressed together. Aware of the sound of the leaves rubbing together in the wind, aware of Judas Priest still playing through his speakers. Love Bites is a hell of a track to be having this revelation to.

"You're not straight?"

"No."

"And you were flirting?"

"Yes."

"With me?"

He rolls his eyes, not an ounce of bitchiness lost to his embarrassment. "No, Eddie, with the crusty blanket on your van floor. Yes, of course with you- Mmmphh!"

They probably shouldn't be making out on the ground at Settlers Quarry in broad daylight but, honestly, the shambling corpse of Jason Carver could show up right now and Eddie would not give two shits. Steve slides a hand down the back of Eddie's pants, grabbing what little bit of ass cheek he has, and Eddie thinks, Hope you're watching from hell, you bastard. Enjoy the show.

[tojisun]

the apple that rolled over to the tree

!! fluff; f!reader; parenthood!!; simon-centric hehe >:3 // divider by @/plutism!

there is a… kid attached to your hip when simon returns home from a mission, his exhausted body stumbling into the kitchen where he finds you and it.

“what—”

he can’t even fathom the emotion coursing through him at the moment, what with shock triumphing over everything. still, you’d probably need to give him credit for not losing his goddamn mind at seeing a whole child — he couldn’t have been more than two years old with how he’s only three apples tall — clinging to you like a baby koala.

“oh my god, you’re back!” you squeal, unfazed at how dumbfounded your fiance has become, before shuffling close to embrace him.

simon reciprocates the hug anyway.

you step back, your lips still wobbling in your tears as you stare up at him, all awed like you couldn’t believe that he was back and simon wishes he can press his promises to your lips because he will always find a way to come back, he swears on his life, but also—

the child.

“sweetheart?” he begins, soft as to not spook you or the kid. “who’s, uh, who’s that?”

the child shifts, turning his little face from where it was burrowed onto your neck at the sound of simon’s voice. he rests his head on your clavicle, smooshing his already chubby cheek, before the biggest brown eyes that simon’s ever seen stare up at him, all doe-eyed and jarringly innocent, and simon, he—

well, not even babysitting tommy’s kids prepared him for this.

“this is yasha,” you murmur, pulling simon’s attention back to you. “or yakov, or james if he would want an english name.”

the boy reacts to you calling his name, and simon watches as those curious eyes tip up at you in question. you swipe your finger over his nose, the little thing scrunching up at the ticklish feeling, and simon becomes breathless at seeing the unadulterated joy in your face.

it is all parts soft and tender, but also anxious and worried, and simon begins to puzzle out the pieces.

“he’s my foster child. or ours, i guess, now that you’re here.” your voice is so fragile as you reply to him, your hand now beginning to rub soothing nothings on the boy’s back. simon wonders if it’s more to calm yourself down than it is to comfort the boy.

your lips purse, hesitating, and simon waits because while he he’s pieced out what you want to ask, he knows that this is something you would want to truly talk to him about. it is something he knows you have mustered up the courage to bring up so he gives it to you, open and ready, and he hopes that his face and his gait show that whatever it is you would want to say, simon will always support you no matter what.

“si?” you begin, looking heart-wrenchingly small in your worry. “i think i wanna adopt him.”

simon hums, stepping close but also being careful not to crowd yasha, before he curls his arms around you two — his family — and nuzzles his face on your other shoulder. “i’d love that.”

he offers you a smile, and squeezes your arm in comfort, then he watches as the tears come, easily springing up from your eyes. yasha startles, whirling to look up at his mother in worry. simon’s throat constricts at the thought of you being a mother and him, a father; how, now, there is someone else for simon to come home to. someone to fight for.

jesus. he’d need to tell the lads and maybe get wasted as a celebration.

“owies?” yasha asks, chubby fist balling your shirt.

“they’re happy tears, sweetie pie,” you reply, crooning. “i’m just so, so happy.”

yasha hums, nodding, probably already distracted, and simon takes that time to straighten back up. he pushes your hair away from your face, before he pitches forward to press a kiss on your forehead.

yeah, he’s happy too.

.

yasha gets spoiled, not that simon’s complaining given that he’s been the one doing all the spoiling.

“really, si? a new toly?” you ask, arms crossed over your chest in your exasperation.

toly or anatoly, or tory because yasha still can’t speak properly, is the name that yasha gave to all of his new stuffed toys. it all started with a dog plush that simon bought from the supermarket on a whim and gave to the boy. it was laughably quick how yasha had abandoned his blocks to make grabby hands to the toy, before squealing out that name.

the next stuffed toy that yasha received, which was just the softest and roundest penguin plush toy that simon’s ever seen, was also named toly. so was that teddy bear you bought for him. or that reindeer he got for christmas. somehow, every single one had been named toly.

the only thing you and simon can find about toly was that anatoly means sunrise. simon was so sure it was the russian word for animal, because why else would yasha repeat it, but who would have thought that their little fish is so imaginative?

like, of course he’s going to name all of his toys toly because they are as warm as sunrises. see? smart kid.

but this one, this new toly, set off world records. it was a camel plush that simon saw at the airport when he was out, pretending to be a civilian.

(garrick had been assigned with him for that mission, and was quick to spot and mention simon’s on-duty purchase.

“it’s for my boy,” he grunted in reply, forgetting the fact that he’s yet to truly break the news to his squad. garrick had never looked as surprised, and next thing simon knew, the news made its way to their group chat.

price was amiable about the whole thing. mactavish? not so much.

he just about begged to see a picture of yasha — “and yer girl again, if you wouldn’t mind.” — or even visit him. then he invited garrick to come and price invited himself too, so now the guys are going to swing by some time soon.)

when simon gave it to yasha, their boy had stared at it for a solid minute — simon counted — before screaming and then running to snatch the toy from simon’s hold. he hugged the camel close to his person, his little head nuzzling against the plush face of the camel, all the while absolutely vibrating in unabashed excitement.

he picked up thundering footsteps and turned around just enough to see you literally slide into the room. yasha continued to hug the camel, ignorant of the distress he caused, while you looked on in your panic, buzzing with worry because you just heard your boy scream, damn it!

“he’s fine, bub,” simon said before you could ask, and he watched as you came down from your frenzy, your breathing slowing down at the rationalization that if simon was not panicked, then everything’s alright.

then, your eyes landed on the new stuff toy.

“really?” you asked.

in his defence, yasha adores camel-toly.

in your defence, yasha’s room is running out of space for his tolys.

…well, simon does have all that military money. gonna have to spend it on something else, right?

.

[charlie foxtrot]

sriley: link

john2: ????

sriley: new address.

garry: oh? congratulations.

sriley: thanks.

johnp: 👍

.

yasha was shy when saying hi to price, then outright cried when he saw mactavish, which made simon bark out loud in laughter. yasha only stopped sniffling when he saw kyle. in no time, yasha absolutely adored garrick to the point that he would not even let him go.

dinner was prepared and while you called them all to eat, simon ambled out of the kitchen, where he had been helping you, and walked towards kyle and yasha to pick up his son and seat him on his high chair. but yasha had only looked at him, his head tilted in question, before ignoring simon and clinging onto kyle.

hell, he had even let go of camel-toly so that he could use two chubby fists to hold onto kyle. surprised, simon didn’t even know how to react and watched as his sergeant offered him an apologetic smile before carrying his son to the dining room. kyle rounded the table and sat yasha on his high chair, only, yasha made a scene when kyle did so, and he released a lungful of screams and cries, breaking everyone’s eardrums and their hearts.

kyle stood there, worried and confused, and hovered because he did not know what to do. hell, none of them did, and then you walked out of the kitchen, rushing to yasha, and hummed songs to comfort your son.

you crooned when he made grabby hands to be picked up and you did so with no hesitation, your touch soothing the boy into quiet sniffles. but even then, yasha wouldn’t settle down as he wriggled in your arms, short limbs reaching for—

simon glowered.

yasha was reaching for kyle. you were quick to giggle, asking kyle if it was alright that yasha would eat with him, and simon had glared at his sergeant, daring him to deny their son of anything, before reluctantly nodding his approval at kyle’s happy trill of, “of course, ma’am!”

yasha had finally calmed down when you sat him on kyle’s lap, and his boy was even polite enough to actually eat his soft veggies every time kyle beckoned him to open his mouth for a new spoonful.

simon did not startle, but it was close, when your hand landed on his thigh.

“you okay, baby?” you asked, eyes furrowed in your worry.

“yeah,” he remembers replying with, his throat all choked-up because he knows yasha must be excited to have new people to play with, but still, there was something that stung when his boy chose garrick over him.

not that it was kyle’s fault because he is a dear for even doing all that he did for yasha, but simon had hoped that he would always be yasha’s favourite.

too lost in his thoughts, simon had almost missed yasha’s call.

“-ddy? daddy?” yasha asked, startling simon.

it was not the first time yasha called him that, but every time he did, it never fails to make simon melt.

“yeah? what’s up, buddy?”

simon pretended that no one was watching the interaction.

yasha giggled, hiding his food-smeared lips behind his little palms, before turning to use garrick’s front to hide from simon. you snorted, murmuring to kyle how you swear you would wash his shirt before they go, but it’s all buzz to simon because his son — his darling boy — wanted to play with him during dinner.

yasha peeked at him again, before giggling once more when he caught simon’s eyes. this continued on until dinner ended, with simon occasionally miming growling monsters to induce more hearty giggles from his son, and being rewarded with the happiest laughter ever.

simon turned to you, with his heart on his throat, and beamed.

“aww,” mactavish sang from somewhere beside him. “ain’t that adorable— argh!”

simon had swung his arm out and thumped his fist on johnny’s stomach. thank god, yasha had chosen that time to hide his face again on kyle’s stomach.

.

“unca’ john?” yasha asks in a stage-whisper because everyone within earshot just heard him even with his attempt to be quiet. it’s only their training that stopped simon from acting like he’s noticed.

“yeah, bubsy?” john replies, sounding so utterly soft that this version of him is so foreign to simon.

“this tory,” yasha says and simon discreetly peeks to see which toly is being introduced to uncle john — it’s the elephant one.

price gasps theatrically like he hadn’t seen yasha drool all over this elephant toy before, and puffs out, “how cute!”

“mhmm,” yasha says, nodding, then smacks the face of the toy on john’s face. the trunk smooshes against john’s nose, and thank god that elephant-tory is soft because that aim would have been lethal if it wasn’t.

“jesus—” price gasps out.

“language!” simon hisses, and ducks his head back down just before yasha could catch him peeking.

.

yasha is now four and he still gets teary eyed when he sees johnny. simon placates his friend and says it’ll pass soon. maybe.

basically, i wanted to write a fic wherein simon’s reaction to being presented with a child is “what— oh okay, sure why not” and (literally in 20 minutes) “i will kill everything for this child” and so here we are

a simon spinoff - it takes a rampage (to be a dad)

[iid-smile]

★ — MAGNETIC

you, you, you, you, like it's magnetic

you, you, you, you, you, you, you, you, super 이끌림

content — fushiguro megumi x gn!reader, it's just really fluffy!!

wc — 0.2k

a/n — i had nooo idea who i should do for you omg im sos sorry if you dont like megumi that much 😓

dec 8 ★ event masterlist — for the lovely @miujangs !

megumi loves back hugs.

if he's behind you, you're guaranteed to get one. no words need to be exchanged and touch was already some sort of telepathic communication between you two. it's comforting and soothing; the dream team in megumi's eyes.

also a bonus, you can always tell when his mood is slightly off. his arms are just that little bit tighter, and his cheek is smooshed against yours just that little bit more.

you sigh quietly as you feel his hands around your waist once again. "what's up?" he's grumpy and you can tell.

you only get a grumble in response. typical. within his silence, you can sense how he's watching your movements as you fold your clothes, his quietness being a clear testament to his mood. eventually, he lets out a sigh. "because a lot things are keeping us apart."

oh? that's new. most days he complains about other people, so this was a nice surprise. "how so?"

"you're busy." he mumbles, adjusting his grip so that you could breathe comfortably, as well as trying to keep you secure and warm despite being indoors. "and i'm busy."

"but i'm not busy now, am i? you have me right here." you place your hand over his.

just barely could you see a hint of a red flush over his cheeks as you look over your shoulder, but it's quickly hidden as he nuzzles into your neck. megumi tightens his grip around you, never wanting to let go, and savours the moment dearly as if his life depended on it.

[emmyrosee]

Plucking the book from his hands and plopping yourself on his lap, you smoosh your face against his, pressing your lips together as hard as you can while making sticky, sweet kissy noises against him. You can practically hear the confusion swirling in his brain, feel the tension in his face as he furrows his brows, and you can’t help but giggle as you feel a hand slowly, unsurely resting on your back, patting it softly as you would a friend.

You laugh, but keep your lips flush to his, causing him to try and pull back slightly. “What, are you doing?” You follow his head and keep kissing him.

“Missed you today,” you coo, voice warbled by the smooshing of your lips against his. “A lot.”

“Okay? But why the-“

“No talk, just kiss,” you hum.

“This isn’t a kiss,” he defends. “This is you pressing your face against me, and our lips happen to be touching.”

With that, you reel back, fast, and his eyes blink in confusion. “Are you saying you don’t want to kiss me?” You pout.

“No, that’s not what I said-“

“Okay, good,” you giggle, dashing against him again, this time knocking your heads together. He groans in pain while you laugh against his lips, but you swear you feel his face soften when you pull back juuuuust barely, the affection now resembling more of an actual kiss. He even shifts his lips out to meet yours, the hand on your back cradling the back of your head, and it makes the concussion you potentially just gave him worth it.

“We need to talk about your cuteness aggression though,” he mumbles against you.

“No, let’s just stay like this.”

“For how long?”

“Forever.”

“Forever’s a long time.”

You pull away and adjust yourself slightly, cradling his cheek before smiling and leaning forwards to kiss him again.

“Fine by me.”

——-

hq: kageyama, kenma, iwaizumi, matsukawa, akaashi, ushijima, semi, kita, suna, sakusa

bnha: bakugou, todoroki, dabi

jjk: sukuna, megumi, geto, toji, higuruma, nanami

tr: draken, baji, inupi, rindou

bllk: rin, nagi, chigiri, barou, karasu

+ ur faves 🫶🏻

[ninibeingdelulu]

Calmness ✧

Plot: Ken and you have a real daughter.

A/N: kinda short :(

Soft evening light filtered through the den, casting everything in that warm, nostalgic glow you'd come to associate with pure contentment over these past few blissful years together.

Ken's attention remained transfixed on that vintage baseball game rerun flickering across the flatscreen.

Body settled deep into those overstuffed couch cushions with one leg casually crossed over the other in peak middle-aged dad repose.

But it was the tiny, swaddled bundle cradled against his barrel chest that held your rapt fascination from the archway.

Soaking in every precious detail of their serene tableau with an overflow of maternal adoration swelling in your breast.

At just three months old, your newborn daughter remained utterly oblivious to her surroundings - cherubic features smoothed into perfect repose while bronzed lashes fanned over porcelain cheeks.

One little fist tucked up beneath her chin while the other tiny starfish hand rested atop Ken's broad pec, rising and falling with each of his steady rumbles.

Her doting father absently brushed the pad of his thumb in soothing circles over the minuscule knuckles. Never once taking those transfixed mahogany pools off your slumbering miracle's face as if committing every microscopic shift to eternal memory.

That singular worshipful reverie you'd immediately recognized and fallen hopelessly in love with all over again these past few weeks.

The exact same soul-deep look Ken once bestowed solely upon the orphaned kaiju he'd raised before watching her depart for greener pastures - now magnified tenfold through his unbreakable connection to your shared offspring.

A permanent reminder of the family you created together from that cosmic loneliness.

"She's not at all like Emi was , is she?" You murmured, footsteps barely audible across the plush carpet until dropping onto the open cushion space beside him.

Ken responded with only a low rumbling hum from his broad chest while immediately unfurling that sheltering arm around your shoulders.

Cocooning you into his solid, familiar warmth until your cheek smooshed comfortably against the firmness of his shoulder. Close enough to press a wandering caress across your tiny miracle's silken crown.

"No - she's not. She's ours." A meaningful pause preceded Ken's soft, gravelly rasp ghosting across your hairline. "Our daughter...our real baby that you gave me, sweetheart. One I'll guard with my life the same way I do for you always."

Melting into the tender, possessive squeeze encircling your trim waist, you craned your chin up against his collarbone to receive that lingering brush over your puckered lips.

Ken's soulful gaze locked onto yours - swimming depths of protective ferocity tamed only through utter reverence for the two solitary souls anchoring his universe now.

The unspoken mantra of doing anything to safeguard the loves of his life until extinction itself.

"You've already given me more than enough happiness to last a trillion lifetimes, babe. Thank you," he whispered hoarsely against your skin.

"For being everything I could've dreamed during those cold, empty decades..."

You stifled the tiny sniffle by reclaiming his questing mouth in a searing, needful communion - conveying through satin caresses alone just how desperately you treasured this man and the profound sanctuary of family he'd bestowed upon you.

Your Ultraman, protector, partner, and living legacy of insurmountable love all in one. Cradling you both to his gallant hero's heart for eternity.

[dollfacefantasy]

billy butcher x fem!reader cw: nsfw (18+), smut, fingering i am so down bad i had to get this out of my system

Everywhere he went, you followed Billy around like a puppy. Always watching him with adoring eyes, lingering by his side to see what he was up to. At first he pinned it on you looking for reassurance as the newbie in the group, but after a few weeks, it was obvious that your attachment ran deeper. You obviously had quite the crush. 

You spoke to him with more nerves in your voice. Followed his orders down to the letter and damn near saluted him when you received them. He could scowl at you or scold you, and you might scurry away with your tail between your legs for the hour. But give it some time, and you'd be back.

He didn’t know what to make of it. Sure it was... flattering, and technically, you were still doing your job well, performing on missions as you should. But at the same time, it was distracting having a sweet young thing like you prancing around him at all times, seeking his approval with each breath you took. He was supposed to be focusing on revenge, justice, saving the world and all that. But fuck, one look at you and that's all a distant memory.

At the end of the day, he's just a man. He needs to have a taste. One night when the two of you are out scouting, he gets you alone in the van. It only takes a tender look and a few words in a lilted tone of his voice to have you cumming on his fingers and your panties in the pocket of his coat. A few days later, you blow him in a public bathroom while you wait for a target to show up. After that, he eats you out at your desk in the office.

Tonight he gets you back to his place. He's sat on the sagging couch, thighs spread wide enough to accommodate you between them. He holds you there. You're bent in half with your legs up in the air. One of his arms is hooked around them for support while his other is curved around your bottom to get at your dripping pussy.

His thick fingers pump in and out. He works at a moderate pace for now, not enough to break you just yet, but the perfect rhythm to make you squirm your ass against his solid bulge. You have your bottom lip between your teeth, looking up at him with droopy, glazed eyes. All he can do is smirk in return.

"Feel good? You like gettin' that little cunt stuffed full?" he teases.

His voice comes out hushed despite the fact that it's just the two of you. The words rumble up from his chest against your back. You just nod in response. Any words that would have been suitable have turned to mush in the pit of your belly.

The wordless gesture doesn't stop him at all. It only spurs him forward. His entire hand is coated in slick by now, your arousal seeps out with each pump and slips over the expanse of his palm. Wet, erotic noises emanate from your center while soft whimpers pour from your lips. He squeezes your legs up tighter, smooshing your breasts down.

"I know you do, pup. Such a needy thing," he says, "Following me around like I got you collared and leashed."

You moan at the image of that filling your mind. If he wanted you to, you would. You'd kneel at his feet, bound and pretty, displaying your devotion to him around your neck. You'd rest your empty little head on his knee and zone out while he pet you and called you his good girl.

"Oh, she likes that," he chuckles as your walls clamp around him.

You nod eagerly before arching your back and yelping as his thumb starts swiping across your puffy clit.

"Atta girl. Panting like a bitch in heat for me," he murmurs and nuzzles your temple.

You whine like one too, trembling in his arms as the coils of pleasure tighten in your tummy. Your eyes flutter, lashes dusting your cheeks as you look up at him. He watches on with his own lust blazing in his eyes.

He fucks his fingers into your tight heat faster, curling them a bit to stroke that sweet spot inside you. Some drool slips from between your lips at the onslaught of stimulation. His fingers were just so fucking thick. Only two of 'em were in right now. He hadn't let you take his cock yet, but you could only imagine how snug of a fit it would be if this was any indicator.

"There you go, love. You're getting there," he praises as he continues sliding his fingers in and out while massaging your bundle of nerves.

"F-fuck," you whimper, "Gonna cum soon."

"I can tell," he rasps, "Go head and do it. Wanna see you come apart for me."

Soft noises of ecstasy bubble from your lips. You were nothing if not dedicated to pleasing this man, so you give him what he wants. It only takes a few more flicks and thrusts of his digits to get you to crash into bliss. 

Your head tilts back as you cum. Your legs kick lightly in the air, but he keeps you in place. You squirm against his broad, warm chest. Your cunt locks tightens around his fingers, wishing so fucking badly that it was his cock.

He kisses you as you start to come down. His lips land on yours and capture every delicious sound you make. Your breathing calms and returns to a normal pace along with your heart rate slowing down. Your legs bend over his forearm before he lets them down gently and allows you to just sink back into his body.

You're soaked between your legs, inner thighs slippery with release. As he withdraws his fingers, your pussy is already aching for another part of him to fill it up again. You turn and slide your grabby hands beneath his shirt, but he simply boosts you up to sit fully on his lap.

"You're insatiable, sweetheart," he teases before pecking your lips.

"Cause you keep teasing me," you mumble.

"Yeah? Think so? I think I'm just taking my time with you."

"Takin' too long," you huff in response between kisses.

"Maybe you're just greedy and spoiled," he says.

You're about to reply with another bratty comment, but he flips you over and spreads you out on the couch. You hear the zipper on his pants slide down, and you're almost certain it's the most thrilling noise you've heard in your life. One look up at his eyes tells you you're not gonna be complaining in a couple more minutes.

[kurokawaia]

Wearing the Uchiha symbol for the first time

Sasuke Uchiha 彡 Fem!Reader

MDNI 18+ | NSFW | WARNINGS :: the last! Sasuke (so like 19-20 y/o), fem!reader, afab, established relationship, rough sex, cervix kissing, manhandling, overstimulation, creampie, no protection, mating press, begging, possession, dracyphilia? praise, mention of UTI, very lovey dovey at the start before the real uchiha comes out 😈, reader is described to be shorter than sasuke + more . (total word count 2.1k+)

SYNOPSIS :: Sasuke sees you in his clan symbol for the first time and wastes no time in acting on that possessive impulse that rises over him | inspired by this drabble

Your body is aching all over, hair is exceedingly dishevelled, pesky red splotches left over your neck and chest. In addition, Sasuke has just slumped himself on top of you causing a huff to leave your swollen lips. "Sasuke," you managed to breath out, the words coming out strained. "Get yourself off, you're heavy!"

"You weren't complaining an hour ago," he mumbles against your skin, trailing up kisses from your breasts to the dip of you neck. A pleased sigh of content exits from your mouth, your arms curling around Sasuke's upper back before you let your fingers entangle with his black hair, nails lightly rubbing his scalp.

A pout forms on your lips. "Well that's different," you reply before you subtly roll your eyes. "When a six foot man drops his weight, of course I will loose my breath. I never said I didn't like it when you lay on my slowly." Emphasis on the word 'slowly' because truly you didn't mind, you love the times were Sasuke can laze on you, arm wrapped around your figure, his head smooshed against your breasts. Sasuke loves it, you love it.

In return Sasuke just lets a hum vibrate against your neck before lifting his head from below your ear. Your breath is stolen from you while you gaze into his duel coloured eyes and how his hair falls softly against his pale skin. And there you go falling in love all over again. Closing both your eyes simultaneously, Sasuke's lips brush against your own, planting a kiss.

This is before you suddenly break away from the kiss, and situate your hand on his cheek, pushing him away from you almost comically. "Stop teasing," you jokingly say, bringing your free hand to cover your blush coated face.

"What was that for?" Sasuke says confused, wondering if you were mad but the expression on your face says otherwise. He couldn't help a soft smile rise on his lips seeing your lips curve into a smile, the tone you spoke in also indicated you weren't made but he couldn't be too cautious.

You sit up as Sasuke does as well so your head doesn't smack into his, resulting in him straddling your hips while you lean on your palms. "I need to go pee," you tell him, placing a kiss on his cheek. "Unless you want no sex for a week or two when I get a UTI." When he doesn't reply you knew what his answer was, yes he is going to let you go piss. "I'll start the bath up as well, I'll be really quick I promise."

Sasuke reluctantly let you go, his eyes trailing your naked figure as you walked into the bathroom. (you piss rn and wash ur hands i aint writing what it feels like to piss 🤗) A shiver befalls you and goosebumps rise all over your skin, you quickly wrap your arms around yourself, trying to find something to cover yourself with.

The closest thing to you was Sasuke's dark blue nemaki which was discarded after the both of you undressed each other before. You slip on the soft cotton, threading your arms through and tying the sash loosely around your waist. Even without looking at yourself in the mirror, just by feeling and gazing down, you can easily tell that it's massive on you.

Leaning over, you twist the bath tap on to the hottest setting and plug the hole up. You stretch your arms above your head, trying to release dome of the built up tension from before. Walking back over to the bed, leaving the bathroom, you notice Sasuke wasn't there causing a small frown to come onto your face. You sit down on the edge of the bed wondering where Sasuke was.

That was until you almost had a heart attack seeing a figure move inside your shared wardrobe, it was just Sasuke. "Did you put the water on hot again?" Sasuke asks and your eyes widen.

"Oh, I did," you sighed, it's so cold outside, it's snowing! so turning it on hot fully made sense but it also made sense that the water would still take a while to cool down to actually bathe in it. "I'll go turn it down!" You stand up from the bed and you were about halfway to the bathroom.

Sasuke walks out the wardrobe and the pj's he was holding for you instantly just dropped as his eyes to what you are wearing. Frankly, he couldn't care less with what you were wearing more so to the symbol on the back of it. Time slows for him. The Uchiha crest sewn onto the back of the nemaki, his nemaki. You're wearing his Clan symbol on your back. Sasuke's eye couldn't help but flare up into that all familiar shade of red with spinning black tomoe as he gazes upon your figure.

Sasuke catches up in a few quick strides. Before you can turn the water down, his arm is around your waist, pulling you back against his chest. A startled gasp escapes your lips, your heart racing from the sudden move from sasuke.

"You're not going anywhere," Sasuke murmurs into your ear, the heat sending tingles down your spine.

"Sasuke, what--" you were effectively cut off was you were picked up and tossed onto the bed, his eyes never straying from yours as he moves over you, straddling your hips, his weight pinning your confused self down.

His lips press against your own and his hand moves to hold the back of your head above the pillow, making sure you wouldn't dare stray from him. You weren't complaining, not one bit, especially not as Sasuke's tongue slithers into your mouth causing you to moan into the rough kiss.

All you could do was indulge into the kiss, both of your breathy pants and moans getting swallowed by one another. You claw onto his shoulder, trying to find some stability while you arch into his toned abs, feeling them through the cotton.

Sasuke breaks the kiss, staring intently into your eyes and your breath was almost stolen from how possessive he was gazing at you. You wondered if you had did anything that would provoke such feelings but you honestly didn't know what you had did.

"You're mine, you know that," Sasuke mumbles, only a centimetre from your lips. His fingers thread under the topstitching of the nemaki, his fingers only slightly grazing your skin and it didn't do anything to help the pool of arousal gathering between your legs. "You know what that means?" 'That' referring to the nemaki and you finally realised.

You can only nod, words failing you under his intense stare, and you think if you were to speak you'd only fumble over your words. His lips crash down onto yours with a hunger that leaves you breathless, his hand gripping your hips possessively.

"You belong to me," he growls against your lips, his hand roaming, claiming every inch of you as his own. The nemaki slips from your shoulders, leaving you exposed beneath him. His lips follow the path of the fabric, marking you with kisses that burn like fire.

"Sasuke..." you whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair as he continues. The sensation of his lips, his hands, his weight pressing you into the bed—all of it overwhelms your senses, leaving you trembling beneath him.

Slowly, Sasuke undoes the sash and you thought it would help if you shimmied down the material off your arms but he stopped you, his hand pressing you down back to the bed. "You're keeping that on," he says against your skin. "You're okay with that, love?"

You nod frantically, simply just wanting his touch against your skin. "I need words. Say it," he presses, wanting to hear the word spill from your swollen lips.

"Yeah," you breathlessly say. "I'm okay with that, I just-- Please, I need you. You know I'm all yours."

"That's my girl," Sasuke smirks before everything fell into place. Your body now folded up into a tight mating press under Sasuke's body. And tears were falling from your pretty eyes down your skin from the pleasure and the over stimulation. Sasuke's cock was nuzzled perfectly up against your cervix, resting there and he kept all his cum up in your silky walls.

"Sasuke," you mewl out through sobs. "It's too much."

It's been two rounds already, in the same position, and your poor body getting folded into that position. Your back and knees were beginning to ache, but you loved how his dick trusted so perfectly up into your cunt, you see stars every time you gush around his cock.

Sasuke lowers down to your trembling body, tingles were getting sent all throughout your body from the kiss, he was being so rough yet deep. The breath was stolen from your lungs every time he moaned into your moan, and you had the same effect on him.

"You're doing so good for me," he hums against your skin, inhaling your naturally sweet scent. "You're going to take me, going to take everything I give you.

"Feels s' full though, Sasuke," you sob. "Don't think I can anymore."

He presses his lips to yours, his tongue entangling with your own and you both moan into each other's mouths. Sasuke drags his length out, a breathless sigh emitting from your mouth into his own, relief crossing your features, thinking that the two of you were done.

But then, all of a sudden your head was thrown back in overstimulation, and a moan strung from your mouth as his cock slides right back into your cum filled walls.

"Sweetheart, please," Sasuke begs into your ear, breath tickling your skin. "I need you right now... I know you want more too... you can take it for me, you do it all the time."

"O-Okay," you whimper, your walls fluttering helplessly around his cock. "Just one more... as much as I want more... I don't think I can."

His movements became faster, his cock thrusting into the depths of your needy hole as strained moans and whines left your throat. Sasuke was panting in your ear and an occasional deep groan slipped past his lips, the sounds which made your cunt flutter tightly around his length.

Sasuke was filling you up to the hilt, his throbbing pink tip hitting that soft, gummy spot in your cunt that caused you to scream out in fulfilment. "I know, my love," He breathed, causing you to let out a moan and sigh, body shaking with pleasure. "Taking it real good."

Your body tried to arch away from the pleasure, not being able to take the strong rolls of Sasuke's hips, but as you arched your back away, his thrusts only aimed deeper, harder into your G spot.

"Please, I wanna come," you cry out mewling. "So big, you feel so big, Sasuke."

Sasuke hunched over you, pulling you closer to him and connected your mouth in a sloppy, wet kiss, forcing his tongue inside your mouth, grunting into you while he swallowed your moans.

"Making you feel so good, aren't I?" Sasuke groaned his head tilted forward, sweat beading on his forehead as we watched your fall apart and tremble from his dick, broken moans slipping past your plump lips.

"Gonna fill you up," Sasuke groans. "You're taking me so deep, deserve to have my cum."

"'Wanna come, please," you beg, wanting to feel the release, desperate as the tears stream down your flushed cheeks. "Want it so bad."

You clench around his length as he increases his pace, instantly accommodating to the speed but your moans escalate. "Such a good girl," He leaned down and mumbled in my ear chased with a deep moan that stirred my insides clenching around his length..

"Come on," he moans and you spasmed around his length as your high washed over you, your legs shaking as his weight pressed down even more than it was as a deep groan leaves his lips, filling you up once more.

As silence washes over you two and your limbs straighten, falling comfortably into each other, holding each other close, no words needing to be spoken. "You're intense sometimes, Sasuke," you say lightly.

"I can't help it when it comes to you," Sasuke replies, getting up from your figure and sitting on the edge of the bed as you do the same. He feels your head lean on his shoulder and his chest swells. "I love you," he mumbles and a hopeless smile rises onto your face.

"I wouldn't have it any other way," you confess, pulling him down for another tender kiss. "I love you too- Oh my goodness the water!"

Do not copy, steal, modify, etc. Relogs and like are appreciated.

taglist :: @enouche @adlct515 @slutoru1207

[secretlovezz]

Spencer Reid wakes you up with kisses as often as he can.

His slightly chapped, perfectly pink lips drag across the heated skin of your neck. The kisses are sickeningly sweet and so impressively gentle that goosebumps spread themselves along your arms and butterflies erupt in your stomach making your eyes flutter softly as you start to wake yourself.

You grumble sleepily when his hands move to wrap around your waist tighter. Your hands grab and lace your fingers with his.

When your eyes finally will themselves open, they crack only slightly, your eyesight blurs, and you're pretty sure your eyes are crusted in the corners. Spencer's cheek smooshes roughly against yours and you groan in pretend annoyance. He smooshes harder in response.

"Spencer..." You groan again.

He presses a wet kiss to your cheek and you try to fight against the smile that began growing on your face.

"I just love you," Spencer whispers to you, you feel his breath against the shell of your ear.

"What time is it?" You ignore him on purpose.

He squeezes the skin of your waist, "Say it back... please."

You want to hold out just to tease him but the way his voice sounds when he pleads with you makes you give in instantly.

"I love you, Spence"

You feel a grin grow against your cheek, he snuggles closer to you almost like no matter what he can't be close enough like he needs to be attached to you completely, apart of you.

"Love you," He sighs, gives you one more sloppy kiss, and let's you fall back asleep once and for all.

[balljointedpup]

Rundown

Warning: dubcon/noncon themes in part one, dirty talk, scummy Price, implied age gap, babysitter! Reader, Wife is named, cheating, Price has a chronic need for a wife that makes him happy, nsft, brief breeding kink, one usage of daddy, p in v, no protection

Original prompt by ceilidho

Reblogs, likes and comments are much appreciated!

Part 1 | part 2

"Mr Price- I tried to-" You were stammering, a whole new tremor running through you. As you started with big watery eyes. "I tried to tell you..."

But you gasped as you felt another roll of his hips stutter forward. John guided your frozen body to twist around, pressing your back to the mattress as you hiccuped. Apologizing over and over as your eyes recoiled from his unwavering gaze. Pressing his cock back into your tight heat with a deep groan from his chest. His eyes glazed over as he stared down at your meak form.

Another rut made you preen. Blinking through thick tears as your lips parted. Hands reaching up and tugging on his shirt. "Please- I can't-"

"ssh." He silenced, squeezing your cheeks so your lips smooshed together. Forced to pucker as you sniffed. "Quite pet."

He was thinking with his dick. He knew. Months upon months of nothing but his hand and itchy pillows. Not even twenty men could pry him from the clench of your sobbing pussy. He wasn't lying; you felt like heaven. John leaned down as he pressed his nose to your cheek. "Feel good?" He whispered, adjusting his grip on your face.

You hesitantly nod. Because it did. If felt amazing. Felt wicked. It was. This whole thing was wrong yet nothing has felt more right.

With that, Price let out a huff as he nodded your head for you. "Yeah?"

"ah huh.." was all you could breath out as you laid there. Hands grasping at his arms, nails scratching along the hair that covered them.

And your eyes rolled back as his hips picked up pace once again. His fingers threaded between yours as the press of his wedding band burned against you. Missing the way way his fingers pinched at your ring finger.

-- -- --

Neither of you talked about it. It was like it never happened at all. As it should have been. It should have never happened. You knew that and you were sure John knew that. It felt wrong to look at Colleen knowing that you left their house with John's cum drenching your underwear and threatening to roll down your legs. The peddle back home was agonizing as you felt the the squelch of your combined juices with each shift against the bike seat.

You considered quitting. It would be the right thing to do. It should be what you're doing instead of entering their house with a smile on your face and baby James gifted back into your arms. Accepting paychecks from manicured fingers as if the scent of her husband's sweaty cock hasn't stained your palm. How he's come home early, spotting you and asking in a hushed voice if the 'other misses' was home.

You should be sick with yourself. Disturbed how easily you fell down this rabbit hole. So willingly. Yet some part of you felt justified. They were miserable together and clearly only stayed for the baby. But even then, with how often Colleen left the house and called you up to do her duty as a mother you were beginning to doubt James was going to be their glue for much longer.

Did she know? Was she able to smell her perfume on your neck. The scent of her husband's cock on your breath. Did she see the missed specs of cum still in your hair? Did she care?

So many questions that gnawed at you more than any guilt did.

-- -- --

John's stubbornness was a double-edged sword. Once fixated on finally repairing his failing marriage now became an unbreakable wall to rip it to shreds. Not telling you about obvious signs of what remained of your debauchery, cooing to James late at night how his new mommy was going to be just so sweet for them both. Grinning at his son's small hands grabbing at you whenever you came over. The kid knew what he wanted just like his father.

It was a pride thing. He knew deep down. He's stopped enjoying the touch of his wife years ago. But he was a man of his word; he was committed to her happiness. Through sickness and in health. It's why he let her speak so coldly to him when her mood soured like a ripe lime. Why he kept his ring on her finger despite her tantrums and wails. He wouldn't stand for the mockery his men would snide at him being unable to keep his bird in check. Unable to keep her tucked under his arm.

But now, with you in the picture, that stubbornness could be shifted to a new track. He knew he was in trouble the minute he saw you. You weren't the most overly qualified, and your face had a glow that could have melted even hardened men such as him. He wouldn't doubt even Simon would relent to that shine in your pretty eyes.

James loved you. He seemed to crave your nurturing more than his own birth mother. And who was he to deny his son? His world.

So when Colleen was having another one of her fits; the only way you could tell James was even hers. So similar to the two, John had to cover his mouth as a smirk threatened to quirk on his lips. She slammed down the divorce papers and dared him with that glare of hers to finally give her up.

He just uncrossed his arms, nodding as he leaned forward, elbows perched on the table as he held out his hand. "Got a pen?"

"what-?!" She barked. Colleens eyes wide with shock.

"pen, love, do you have one?"

His wife knew when he wasn't joking. She's been with him long enough to see the signs. He wasn't calling her bluff this time. Her lips trembled for a moment before forcing themselves into a firm line as she slapped a pen down into his hand. Watching as how easily he wrote his signature and checked through each page.

As soon it was done she snatched the papers from him, thrusting her ring down up on the table with a noisy clatter. "I hope you enjoy that little skank of yours." Was all she could hiss before turning on her heel and storming out. Grabbing her purse and jacket and fumbling for her phone.

-- -- --

You got a call to return for another day on the job sooner than you expected. When you knocked on the door you were greeted with John's build looming over you. Expectant of your arrival. Grinning beneath his bushy mustache as he guided you into the home.

"where's Jammy?" You coo out, awaiting to be greeted by the baby but John just shook his head.

"just us, hon, she's taken him out today."

"then why-"

But he didn't let you question, cupping your jaw as he tilted your head up. And you knew instantly what you were here for. Swallowing as he led you to the couch, taking you right there. Pinning your soft body beneath his as your ankles dangled at his ears. His cock plunged ruthlessly into your needy core, heavy balls smacking against your ass as he grunted.

"gimme your hand, sweetheart." He coaxed, prying your hand from gripping his forearm as he pulled the ring from his pocket, his trousers hanging around his meaty thighs, slipping his ring around your finger and immediately letting out an almost pained coo. "Don't worry, we'll get it fitted. Looks so pretty on you."

But you were barely even able to moan from the air being punched out of your lungs with the way his cock was barging straight into your womb. Too fucked out to fully process what he was saying as your brain was replaced with cotton.

"my pretty little wife, gonna give me another one, ain't ya? Give your son a little brother, hm?"

You could only dumbly nod, probably agree to anything he said like this. Something he was going to keep a note of. Your pussy twitching at just the thought. The coil grew tighter and tighter. Your walls choking his cock making him groan.

"that's it, mama. Come for daddy-"

[keferon]

It has been YEARS since I have writen anything. I more so draw. Maybe later if you like I can try but... the Deadlock Mecha au with Ratchet ❤ it goes brrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr

(Wrote this in three hours. No editing. Spur of the moment dump. Apologizes for the length and how it bounces around. I imagine Deadlock had saved Ratchet and his team somehow. Ratchet in turn tries to save the person inside Deadlock. Finding no human Ratchet instead saves the Cybertonian realizing he is more then a mechine.)

****

Deadlock's optics dart around the bioengineer's lab as he stays crouched on one knee. He keeps his servos flat on the floor to stay steady in the small hanger. He doesn't want to bump into the over head lights any more then he has. He is almost at his limit. When he crawled in here he didn't expect to be surrounded by screaming squishies. He's had enough of the small creatures running around him calling out for help. Let their 'help' come. He will tear apart anything that comes between him and the human that saved his life.

Ratchet, the spitfire of a human had bothered saving him when his own kind left him to leak out in the mud. Cared enough to find fuel and feed him. He had learned quickly that Ratchet has a brilliant and clever processer. He matches Deadlock's glossa with his own with zero hesitation and either has no self preservation or no concept of fear. Which ever one, whatever keeps Ratchet going strong and steady could scare Unicron himself into submission.

Deadlock gives a fond hum as he recalls onlining to a very small hand petting his cheek muttering, "It's ok kid we're getting you out of here. Focus on me. Only me." While the ground shook around them. While screeches from the enemy closed in, almost drowned out the calming grumble of the bioengineer.

He snarls as something pings off his helm bringing him back to the hanger. His lip curls back enough to show a shiny fang. One of the little fraggers shot him with a... should he even call that a blaster? "ENOUGH!" A voice demanding respect and carries weight yells out when Deadlock lifts his left servo to grab the offending toy. Everyone pauses and falls silent. He hears a ting ping ping from his right leg. "Stop that line of thought right now Drift! Hand down!" Deadlock looks at Ratchet as Ratchet gives the plating around his knee a few good wacks with a... piece of wood that had bristles at the end. Deadlock gives an amused rumble and slowly sets his servo back down as he turns his right one slowly till it's palm up next to Ratchet. Ratchet huffs and grumbles but climbs on still wielding the mighty stick weapon. "What the hell are you doing in here you menace?"

"Ratchet~ I missed you. You are late coming to berth. For the sixth time. Iv come to escort you from work." Deadlock purrs as he lifts Ratchet slowly to his optics. He can't help but smirk at the twitching frown Ratchet gives.

"Ain't happening kid. I have a lot to do. Go back to your bed. Rest. You're still recovering." Ratchet says in his, this is not a request but an order, tone. "I don't need you here giving me more work. That's what you'll be doing if you make puddles out of any of my interns. We WILL have words if you do that by the way. Do not smash any of my workers." Ratchet growls back with no more heat then Deadlock has grown use to.

"More of a sad smoosh or splat then smash." Deadlock mumbles. He pauses as the wooden stick with bristles is waved in front of his optic, "Ah.. I mean... isn't scrapping your kind off of things the youngling's job?" That earned him a wack on his optic ridge. He gives a small grunt and closes his mouth.

"No, Firstaid doesn't handle all the dirty work Drift. Even if that was the case don't give the poor kid any more work you numbskull." Ratchet says lowly as the humans optics narrow. Deadlock watches as Ratchet swings the stick servo to servo. "Now get out of my lab or I'll make you."

Deadlock tilts his helm and raises an optic ridge. A devilish smirk spreads across his lips enough for his fangs to poke out. "Right right we're going." He rumbles while cupping a servo around Ratchet as he slowly shifts around to back out. His EM Field spreads out into a smug, pleased pulse as Ratchet yells and curses at him. He ignores the threats. No Ratchet will not take him apart from the inside out. He will go to berth to have the strength to do it in the lightcycle, if he wishes. But he won't, his squishy would never harm him. Sharp glossa, beautiful processer, and pure of spark. Deadlock vows he will protect his squishy with his whole being. "So Drift eh? Think my name will scare your subordinates? Our are we already on nicknames Doc?" He teases with not so well hidden pleaser/fondness.

OH YES THIS AKCNGNJGMGNGNGNGMGMGBDINFBMGGM

Next

[mini-ism]

thinking about lighter and his awfully cheesy romance movie fixation…

⭑ drabble; only slightly steamy (mentions of sex and porn), but he really likes romance movies tee hee… lighter is THE hopeless romantic. he’s got it worse than miss caesar king. maybe it’s contagious?

⭑ lighter lorenz x gn!reader, (mostly???) SFW.

it’s gotten quite late, but he can’t force himself to turn off the TV yet. it’s been hours, sitting in the same position on the couch, absolutely immersed in romance films. rom-coms, dramatic romances, forbidden loves, dying together… it’s all so alluring to watch. he can’t help but put himself in the leading character’s place, finding every chance they can get to impress or even capture their love interest.

of course, you whined with every embarrassing scene, covering your eyes when the leading actors kissed or did something “stupid.” you took every chance you could to dash away, maybe grab snacks or a comforter. but he never got up, not unless he needed to. lighter was utterly dazed, totally awestruck with each plot point, every twist, the passionate confessions, and even rejections — or worse. it made his heart race, the fantasy of being confessed to, or confessing his undying, torrid love to an interest. maybe that interest was laying in his lap now, sound asleep.

he forced his gaze down towards his lap, your face smooshed into his thigh as you laid there. if only you knew how cute you looked. you’d stir a few times, lighter’s hand instinctively coming to stroke your cheek or your upper arm, chastely caressing the skin with gentle movements. if you made a soft noise, lighter would give you a soft hush, smiling as you snored and sighed.

this movie, though, had really caught his attention. sure, it was under the romance genre, duh. he had made sure to keep enough movies playing for maybe an entire 24 hours. but, holy hell, his hands were trembling and sweaty…

the two lovers were entangled in a passionate embrace, their lips and bodies melding together. the room filled with the sounds of their love, but lighter couldn’t find it in him to take his eyes off the screen. his cheeks were stained a hue of red, eyes wide in shock. you rustled around a few more times under the thin blanket, “shh, shh, shh…”

with a quick hushing, lighter’s attention regrouped, the scene growing more steamy with each passing second. this was borderline porn, maybe with an artistic twist. he couldn’t deny he was excited, but it had him thinking, wondering if he could experience this type of love himself.

“are you watching porn?” a groggy voice spoke, you were sitting upright. oh shit, oh fuck.

“uh, no…” lighter froze, panicked, his face turned towards you as the scene played out. where was the remote? why couldn’t he grab it?! “it’s the movie, i’m not watching porn. i don’t do that. that’s weird, totally weird, i don’t look at porn. i swear.”

lighter was mortified, face tinted a deep crimson. you really couldn’t be bothered to nag him for watching porn, if he was. he quickly reached for the remote, pausing the movie. “see? it’s the movie, i’m not weird.” lighter’s voice was heavy with anxiety, though his tirade about how he ‘swears-he-is-not-a-pervert-who-looks-at-naked-people’ didn’t quite convince you. if he looked at naked people on the interknot or in magazines, that was his business.

“i think you already said that. i believe you.” your voice was raspy with sleep, vision still fuzzy as the movie was paused on a shot of the female love interest straddling the male protagonist, bust just out of frame. lighter’s breathing was heavy and frantic, though your lack of fussing and mockery calmed his nerves. before you settled in his lap again, you pressed the play button for him, the lewd encounter fading into obscurity as you drifted off once more.

what if he could put himself in those encounters with you? not just… this one, but all sorts of predicaments. he could buy you a bouquet, take you out somewhere, run along the beach with you with the hem of his pants rolled up as the sun sets. he could freely laugh, take all that weight and guilt off his chest as he holds you close.

his hand drifted down, thumb rubbing gentle circles on your arm again, the gesture bringing more comfort to him than you. would you fall for a sappy guy like him? he wouldn’t even have to be given the chance to fall for you a thousand more times.

he just can’t seem to understand why people hate romance movies, can he?

[hischierhoney]

I Know Places

Jack Hughes x actress!reader // masterlist

title & inspo from I Know Places by Taylor Swift. written for the Eras Tour fic challenge! thank you to @comphy-and-cozy and @wyattjohnston for putting this on!

Summary: When the press catches Jack leaving your place, things seem set to crumble. But Jack has different ideas. 4.2k words

Warnings: mentions of press/pressure from the media, some mild angst but it’s fixed by the end!!

It’s past 2am when you stumble your way into your New York City townhouse, eyes bleary and tired, limbs even more so. The lights are off, besides the one in the hallway, and you don’t bother to turn any of them on. You just shuck off your jacket and shoes, shuffle your way down the hallway, up the stairs and straight into your bedroom. There’s one thought in your brain, and it’s bed. Warm, cozy, soft, full of blankets and pillows and a man-

You nearly scream at the sight, the gentle slope of shoulders under your fluffy comforter. You press your hand to your racing heart as it all comes flooding back. You, on a layover between Los Angeles and New York, stuck in an airport for longer than planned, on the phone with your boyfriend Jack Hughes.

Jack, who’d promised to pick you up from the airport until your flight got delayed. Jack, who has morning skate at 7am and needs his sleep. Jack, who, in a moment of sleep deprived, airport lounge tequila induced delirium, you had told about the key you keep in a potted plant, and suggested that he let himself in. Suggested he crawl into your bed and fall asleep. Just in the interest of sleeping next to him, of maybe having a couple moments with him in the morning.

You don’t get much time with him. Not nearly as much as you’d both like, at least. The two of you are too busy, too full of your own obligations, with his job and your job. Star hockey player and America’s sweetheart actress- it’s like a pairing from one of those Hallmark movies, the ones with perfect houses draped in fake snow that look like they’d smell like warm cookies. Except this is real. And he’s here.

He looks peaceful, you think, as you pad across the room to be closer. His cheek is smooshed against the pillow, on his stomach on the bed, laying in a spread eagle position that’s going to leave it difficult for you to find any space. His lips are parted slightly, soft breaths puffing out between them. Jack sleeps like the dead, you’ve found, from the now many times you’ve slept in the same bed. He says he’s trained himself into it, with hockey and all. You’ve witnessed his pregame naps, watched him fall asleep in seconds flat. It’s impressive.

You make your way to the bathroom, doing what little you can muster of your nightly routine. When your eyes start to close on their own accord, you shuffle your way back to the bed, in your pajamas now, and study the scene. How best to handle the boy in your bed, how to fit yourself against his body so that you can finally fall asleep like you’ve been aching to do.

Before you get the chance, there’s the shrill sound of a phone alarm, and Jack sits bolt straight up in bed. You stumble over your own feet, hand over your heart again, breath stolen from your lungs. Jack scrambles for his phone. It’s 2:30 am.

He’s rubbing at his eyes when he scans the room and finds you. Then he mirrors your position, eyes wide, hand over his heart.

“Why th’ fuck are you already here?” He mumbles out.

You choke on a laugh. It’s a hell of a greeting. “What?”

He groans. “Set an alarm. T‘go pick you up.”

You blink at him, half his face illuminated in the pale moonlight that spills in through your window. There’s a soft breeze that ruffles his hair and makes him shiver- he’s left the window open slightly, the way you like to sleep. Goosebumps raise on his bare skin. You tear your eyes away.

“What are you talking about?” You ask, bewildered. “I told you to just go to sleep.”

“Yeah, but. I set an alarm,” he repeats. He digs the heel of his palm into his cheek, his lips pulled into a pout. “For 12:30. So I could pick you up.”

You cock your head. “Well, it’s 2:30, so I think you set the wrong alarm.”

He groans loudly, brows furrowed, and then lets out some string of gibberish. He checks his phone again, then sets it down on the nightstand. You watch with curiosity as he flops back down onto the bed, on his back this time, blankets pooling around his waist. He’s bare from the waist up. Not for the first time, you have the urge to press yourself against every inch of his skin.

He seems so untouchable, here. Like in this room, he’s only yours. It’s a heady feeling, to watch him sigh and pout about missing his chance to pick you up from the airport. It’s private, normal, domestic. So few things in your life fit any of those descriptors. It tugs at your heartstrings.

“C’mere,” he calls out, spreading his arms across the mattress again. “Come cuddle.”

You don’t argue. Sleep tugs at your bones the second your head hits the pillow. He tugs at you until you’re plastered against him, the heat of his sleep warm body spreading over you. When he ducks his head to kiss the crown of yours, you sigh happily.

“How was th’ flight?” He asks, his voice still laden with sleep.

“Fine,” you mumble. You’re not really in the mood to talk about it. “Missed you.”

He laughs lightly, his chest rumbling with it under your head. “Missed you more.”

You feel his fingers under your chin, tilting your face up towards his. You blink through your exhaustion to meet his gaze, and you sigh happily when he kisses you, for real this time. His lips are warm and soft, his little bit of stubble scraping against your skin in an almost hypnotic fashion. This is why you told him about the key. You wanted to come home to him.

The rest of the world melts away, and you’re left with just Jack.

….

You wake up at 11:30 the next morning to an empty, cold bed, a hoodie folded neatly on the end of the bed with the number 86 on the shoulder, and a barrage of notifications on your phone. They’re still rolling in, chiming every so often. Your heart lurches.

There are a billion from your manager- something about being careful and bad look and you didn’t even get in until 2:30 so why was he there- and your stomach sinks even further. When you open twitter, there it is. A grainy, blurry set of photos, of Jack’s shoulder and back as he leaves the townhouse, his overnight bag slung over his shoulder, his white sneakers bright in the blue early morning light. You can’t see his face in any of them, the hood of his jacket pulled up around his head, which is topped with a beanie and sunglasses. He’s almost unidentifiable, but you know the internet. They’ll figure it out.

It’d be easier if you’d never been seen with him in public before, but you have. Months ago, now, at a charity event hosted by a mutual friend. There’s been a photo of you and Jack from that night, chatting away near the bar in the venue, smiles on both your faces. There’d been a barrage of posts and notifications, then, too- eager Devils fans who were excited to see you talking to him, eager fans of your own who had similar feelings, the other way around. And a text from your manager, reminding you of your upcoming movie, of your male costar who you were supposed to maybe-potentially-possibly be in love with. For the press. For the ratings. But Jack had captured your heart that night, with a teasing joke about Hollywood and a soft little grin on his face, and you’d been unable to forget him.

Now you’re here, in your empty bed while Jack is at practice or meetings, or something in between. It’s not the first time. But it feels like it could be the last.

Jack’s a private person. You are, too, when you can be. When you’d first gone out with him after that first night, he’d seemed wary of all the precautions you took to hide from the press. You’d smiled ruefully and told him that if this was going to happen, he’d have to get used to sunglasses indoors and private rooms and stay at home dates. You’d expected it to scare him off. It usually did- you can’t blame any of them, really.

But it’s been months now, and Jack woke up in your bed this morning. So the scaring didn’t really work as planned.

Text me when you wake up.

That’s the text from Jack. No emojis, a period at the end, no life to it. You fight the urge to roll over, press your face into the pillow, and go back to sleep. Try again later. Hope this is a nightmare.

You text him back, something equally as lifeless. He’s probably busy, he probably won’t have time anytime soon, so you’ll have to wait until then to figure this out-

The phone rings. It’s an echo of Jack’s shrill alarm hours ago, except he’s not here to rub at his eyes sleepily and smile at you and make you feel better. Now it’s his contact, the simple “Jack” flashing across your screen. You sigh and swipe to answer.

“Hi,” you say. Your voice cracks on the single syllable, gravelly from stale plane air and travel and disuse.

“Hi,” Jack echoes. His tone is warm. Soft.

You swallow. “I’m-“

“-sorry,” Jack says, talking at the same time as you, saying the exact same words. You blink up at the ceiling above your head.

“What?” You ask, a bit bewildered.

“What?” He repeats. “Why are you sorry?”

You blink again. “Why are you sorry?”

He lets out a huff, one you can almost picture. “I fucked up.”

And this is how it goes. You’d thought of all people, Jack would have the decency to do this in person. To wait until you’re not seconds past waking up. That maybe he’d give you a bit to process before he called it quits, before he says what everyone else has said before him.

It’s too much.

You’d warned him, back when you’d seen him for the 7th time. You’d been laying in his bed, half on top of him, drawing patterns on his bare chest with your pointer finger. He’s asked about labels and how serious this was and if you were seeing anyone else, and told you he wasn’t. All very brave of him, really. You’d been afraid to say anything for weeks.

“Not seeing anyone else,” you’d admitted. “Where would I find the time?”

He’d huffed out a laugh and tucked you close. “Can we maybe keep it that way?”

It should’ve been a red flag. Not on his part, but on yours. You know how this ends, you’ve been down this road before, and you’d known, even then, that this wouldn’t end any differently. Things go smooth until the media catches wind, and then they figure out who he is, and then everyone picks apart every little bit of him until there’s nothing left for you to hold onto. You can’t blame them, all the people you’ve lost to this curse.

You hate the media enough yourself. You can’t imagine subjecting anyone you care about to it.

You’d tried to warn him. About the secrecy that would be required, about how if anyone ever caught wind of it, he’d be subject to the worst scrutiny of his life. He’d tried to insist he understood, that nothing could be worse than his rookie year, that this mattered enough to him to put up with the pressure. But now the pressure is drilling down on the two of you, and he’s crumbling, just like they always do-

“I knew better than to leave out that door,” he says. “There’s always a pap there, you’ve told me about it before,” he says. “I was just. I was in a rush, because I was so comfy this morning, and I forgot, so. I’m sorry.”

You frown. “It’s okay, Jack.”

You’re the one who told him about the key. Who let him stay over, fueled by sleep deprivation and the urge to see him, even just for a little bit. You’ve gone and contributed to your own demise. God, you were going to let him pick you up from the airport. What kind of idiot are you?

“Are you okay?” You ask him.

He scoffs. “They don’t even know it’s me.”

Your gut twists, again. “They will.”

“Mm, maybe my powers of camouflage have worked,” he says. “Maybe I’ve stumped them.”

You don’t bother pointing out that if the press haven’t already figured it out, his fans will. Someone’s bound to point out the grainy Devils logo on his hoodie, the characteristic swoop of his hair. Someone’s bound to have followed him to his car, and they’ve probably already looked up his license plate. They’re probably running it through whatever system they use, and even if Jack is leasing the car he’ll still show as connected to it, and then they’ll dig their claws into him.

“They’re never stumped,” you tell him. You pinch the bridge of your nose. “Fuck.”

“I know,” he says, voice softer this time. “So. What do we do?”

You pry your eyes open. What do we do? We.

“We?” You choke out.

Jack scoffs. “Yeah, we. I mean. Do we come out and tell everyone, just to take it away from them? Do we lie?”

We. It’s never been a we, before. Not like this. It’s always been flight, never fight. Like everyone before Jack hadn’t thought it was worth it to even try. Had thought you weren’t worth it.

“Jack, you don’t understand,” you tell him. “They’re gonna tear you apart. They’re gonna tear us apart.” Until there’s no us left, you think. “We- we don’t do anything. There’s nothing to do.”

“Not to stop them, no,” he agrees. “But you’ve had this before. How did you and those people handle it? I mean- I can avoid interviews for a while. Nico will take them, he’ll understand. And the All Star break starts soon, so then-“

“They didn’t,” you cut in.

He pauses. “Who didn’t what?”

You sigh, again. “They didn’t handle it, Jack. They broke up with me and left me to handle it and kept going on with their lives. So. Nobody will blame you if you do the same, let alone me. I get it.”

Jack stays quiet for a few moments. The silence hangs between the two of you, heavy and thick. You’re waiting for the other shoe to drop, for him to say it. Because you always let them do it. No matter how much you’re to blame here, you can’t be the one to end it over this. Not when things were going so well with him.

“I’m coming over,” he says.

You blink. “What?”

“Just- stay put. Stay there. I’m on my way,” he says. You hear the jingle of his keys.

“I’m not going anywhere,” You tell him.

“Me neither,” he says.

You don’t bother to warn him that there’ll be added media attention, that the place is probably swarming with people with cameras. You don’t think it’ll change his mind- Jack is stubborn when he’s set on something. And it’s a little late, anyways.

He shows up an hour later, probably having had to fight through insane traffic to get there. You’re back in bed, having only gotten up to brush your teeth before retreating to the safety of it. He lets himself in with the key, and you hear him come up the stairs and shuffle over to your bedroom door.

He stands there, haloed by the hallway light. You roll over to look at him, barely able to keep the tears from forming in your eyes. Maybe he’s just waited to do it in person. Maybe he’s trying to let you down easy. It’s never easy. To lose a relationship like this, before you’re ready.

Things were going so well. You think of nights spent in your kitchen, making dinner together, sharing a bottle of wine. You think of all the hockey games you watched from hotel rooms while you’ve been doing press, and the way Jack answered all your questions on the phone afterwards, never letting on how exhausted he really was. You think of breakfast delivered to your door while he was at away games, and the way he spoke so fondly about his family and friends, how they’d all love you and you’d love them. And now, you’ll never get the chance.

Jack, standing in the doorway, sighs.

He makes his way over to sit on the edge of the bed, and he reaches a hand out to rest against your cheek. You sigh in response. Wait for him to open his mouth, for it to hit. You wait, and wait, and-

“The way I see it, we’ve got a few options,” he says. You blink up at him. “We can just go public, take away the hype about it. We could pretend we have no idea what they’re talking about, just ignore it. We could wait for them figure it out and handle it then. Or-“

You sit up slightly, and he pauses. You know the confusion is written on your face. His gaze softens, blue eyes warmer than they’ve ever been.

“I’m not breaking up with you,” he says. “I don’t run when things get tough. Come on, you know me better than that.”

You want to tell him you’d thought that about everyone, only for them to run from it all, run from you, at the drop of a hat. But you don’t, because you can tell from the hard set line of his jaw, from the determined bend in his brow, that he means it. That he’s not going anywhere. At least, not without you.

“I wanna run away from it all,” you tell him. “I want to take you somewhere they can’t find us. I want-“ you cut yourself off with a wry laugh. “I just want you, that’s all.”

A smile creeps across his lips, and he leans forward to press them to your forehead. Warmth spreads over your body, all the way down to your fingertips and toes.

“We can make that happen,” he says. You can feel the smile against your skin. “If that’s what you want. I know a place.”

You let out a laugh, one that’s mixed with tears. But when he lays down in the bed and pulls you close, you’re inclined to believe him.

…..

The “place” Jack knows takes hours of travel to get to. It takes packed bags and ditching responsibilities on both of your parts, and dodging questions from your friends. But as he pulls the car into the driveway, you think it’s worth all the hassle. The house is blanketed in soft, fluffy snow, hanging off the branches of the trees and over the edges of the roof. He opens the garage and pulls in, and when the door closes behind you, you breathe out a sigh of relief.

When he’d suggested his Michigan house as the getaway location, you’d been skeptical. Anywhere that was linked to him would be a risk once they figured out who he was. But he’d told you about the security of the neighborhood, the gate at the entrance, and that they’d never been bothered there before. He’d suggested that the two of you could just stay in the house the whole time, and it wouldn’t matter. The press finding out about Jack is inevitable, at this point. But as you walk into his house, you remind yourself that they can’t touch you here. You’ve left them all chasing their tails in New York City and disappeared.

Besides, the snow is coming down harder now. Even the paparazzi wouldn’t brave the weather.

Jack insists on carrying your bags in, and then he shows you around. The living room is first, decorated with photos of him and his brothers. The house is full of hockey memorabilia, you realize, as he shows you around. But it’s also warm. Personal. Home. There’s a photo of him and his brothers as little kids hanging over a fireplace. It makes you smile, the way you recognize the light in Jack’s eyes, the determination on his face. He hasn’t changed a bit. You’ve been in his apartment in New Jersey, but you know now that this is what he considers his real home.

He takes you up to the bedroom before the rest of the house, so you can get settled. You change into even comfier clothes than your travel ones while Jack heads back downstairs and tells you to meet him when you’re ready.

You call out to him a few minutes later when you pad your way down the stairs, and he calls back from a room you haven’t been in yet. When you walk in, he’s standing at the kitchen counter, setting out a bottle of wine. There are fresh flowers in a vase- Jack had said he’d ordered groceries to be delivered, and he must’ve gotten those, too. It’s a sweet touch.

You walk into the middle of the room and look around, a bit in awe. It faces towards the lake, with a large sitting area connected to the open concept kitchen. The lights are low and warm. Along the back wall, there are floor to ceiling picture windows, giving you the perfect view of the icy lake, the snow covered sloping bank, and the houses that dot the shore all around you. Like a postcard, or a hallmark movie. Jack pads his way across the room to you.

“Oh, wow,” you say, quietly.

He nods, his hands falling to your hips from behind as he rests his chin on your shoulder. “Pretty, right?”

You nod. It’s beautiful. Peaceful. Still. Quiet. A billion other words pass through your mind. But most of all, it feels safe. Like the whole world could be chasing after you, but here, it’s just you and Jack and the snow. You could run out into it, fall flat on your face, and there’d be nobody there to see it. Or to care.

“Can we go out in it?” You ask him, carefully. Not wanting to break the calm. “It looks so-“

“Yeah,” he agrees, eagerly. “I think we’ve got a pair of boots that’ll fit you.”

Ten minutes later, you waddle through snowdrifts that cover your calves in boots one size too big. You can’t bring yourself to care about the snow in your socks, or the notifications on your phone, or the fact that by now, they’ve probably figured out who Jack is. Because Jack is standing in front of you, and you know who he is far more than they ever will.

He’s the kind of person who stays.

He lobs a snowball at you. It hits your shoulder and crumbles, and he laughs. Pure, loud, happy. You reach down with your mismatched mittens, stolen from their bin of miscellaneous outdoor gear, and form one of your own. You look at him, lining up your aim. Look at his flushed cheeks, his wide grin, the way the snow sticks to his hair and melts on his nose.

“Come on baby,” he says, taunting, arms spread wide. “Hit me with your best shot.”

You drop the poorly formed snowball at your feet and launch yourself at him instead. He’s laughing again by the time you both hit the ground, the snow cushioning his fall. He laughs more when he rolls you over and pins you under him. There’s snow seeping down the back of your shirt, and it makes you shiver. And then he kisses you, and the cold doesn’t matter anymore.

Nothing does, except this.

He’s never kissed you anywhere close to the public, both of you too cautious. So much of your relationship has been hidden away. You’d never had a chance like this in New York- no kissing in the rain, under streetlights, no cheek kisses between glasses of wine at fancy restaurants, no holding hands while you walk down the street. But now you’re out under the cloudy sky, surrounded by peace and quiet, and he’s kissing you. You never want to leave this place.

You shiver, again, and he laughs into the kiss. When he pulls away, his eyes are sparkling. You think yours are too.

“Come on,” he says. “We should get you warm before you catch hypothermia.”

He suggests a shower. You agree eagerly and pull him under the spray with you. The cold melts away, along with the rest of your worries.

Later, you’ll drink wine and make dinner and watch some old movie he’s been insisting you need to see. Later, you'll curl up basically on top of him in bed, surrounded by him, feeling more at peace than you have in months. Tomorrow, he’ll wake up before you do, and come back with coffee from his favorite place in town, and wake you up in bed with it, made just the way you like. And you’ll look at him and thank him. Not just for the coffee, but for bringing you to a place that means so much to him. For letting you in on his little bit of comfort.

You won’t have to say it out loud. He’ll already know.

[orimuraa]

୭ ˚. I think I'll fall in love with you - OT7

(synopsis) ꕤ things that makes enhypen fall even more in love with you 〃✦

ot7 enhypen x fem!reader ꕤ fluffff ꕤ smooches ꕤ enha being whipped ꕤ petnames ꕤ wc 979

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𝑳𝒆𝒆 𝑯𝒆𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒖𝒏𝒈 - 이희승

your plushie obsession

“seungie!!! gues what??” you yelled out to your boyfriend who was sitting on the couch, playing on his phone. you came running forward with something behind your back. “hm? what’s that baby?” he asked with an amused smile and his eyes holding nothing but pure adoration. you let out a small giggle and pull the item from behind your back, revealing a small, cute, hamster plushie. “it’s you!!! i was walking down the street and i saw it and i needed it for you!” you said excitedly, hoping he would enjoy it just as much as you did. “it’s so cute,” heeseung smiled, but he wasn’t looking at the plush. he was looking straight at you.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑱𝒐𝒏𝒈𝒔𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒈 - 박종성

when you cook with him

as we all know, jay is the one with the cooking skills, so naturally, you love to cook with your boyfriend. standing side by side in the kitchen, you had your head leaning on jay’s shoulder as you two waited for your pot to boil. “i love you” jay whispers, planting a small kiss on the crown of your head. “i love you more” you smile, turning to face him. moments like these make jay fall even more in love with you if it’s even possible. being here with you after a long day and getting to spend time cooking together always makes his day instantly better. the way you laugh when you spray specks of water on him or when your eyes light up when you try the cooking. he could stay like this with you forever.

𝑺𝒊𝒎 𝑱𝒂𝒆𝒚𝒖𝒏 - 심재윤

the hugs you give

jake has always loved physical affection from his family, friends, or his members. but nothing ever compared to the way you hugged him. his lovely girlfriend. something about you being so much shorter than him made the hugs so much better. your little frame covering up his front side and your arms wrapping around his torso was the best feeling ever. he was able to feel so loved and safe in your arms whenever you hugged him. “hi pretty girl” he would smile as he wraps his arms around you, only pulling away for a second to give your lips a quick kiss. every time you come running up to him with your arms wide open, jake can’t help but fall a little more for you each time.

𝑷𝒂𝒓𝒌 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒉𝒐𝒐𝒏 - 박성훈

your cuddle sessions with him

sunghoon has never really been one to show his emotions or be very touchy with anyone, but that all changed when he met you. you let him be himself without judging him or teasing him. you yourself were a very affectionate person and that definitely was something new for sunghoon. but as your relationship progressed, you two started having little cuddle sessions whenever. they were a time for you two to just escape the world around you and just feel safe in each other’s arms. whether it was in the privacy of your home, or even in the practice room, (sunghoon would send out the other members) sunghoon has finally become more of an affectionate person with you and only you. seeing you laying in his arms makes his heart melt every time. “i love you so much, doll” god, this man is so whipped for you.

𝑲𝒊𝒎 𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒐𝒐 - 김선우

the way your eyes smile when you laugh

you and sunoo were practically a match made in heaven. both of you were sunshines and could always feel so happy together. sunoo loved everything about you but if he had to choose one thing, it would be that when you laughed, your eyes would always form into little crescents. you had the sweetest smile that always made sunoo’s day a thousand times better and you had a habit of smiling with your eyes. staring at you with pure love in his eyes, sunoo just loved the way your eyes would become crescents, making you look oh so adorable. not being able to resist your cuteness, sunoo smooshes your cheeks together and plants a kiss on your puckered lips. “gosh! what spell did you cast on me?? i’m falling for you more and more everyday!”

𝒀𝒂𝒏𝒈 𝑱𝒖𝒏𝒈𝒘𝒐𝒏 - 양정원

your habit of giving gifts to everyone

jungwon never knew how he was able to ever pull someone as perfect and pretty as you. you were the sweetest person on earth and you always cared for others. you especially loved making gifts for people and giving them more than you liked receiving gifts. you always told him that you liked making people feel happy and appreciated which proved his theory that you were an angel even more. “hey jagi? what is this?” he calls out to you, already knowing what it was and a smile forming on his face, showing his dimples. “oh! i made you a gift! look inside!” you said, popping into the kitchen and walking towards him. he looked in the bag on the kitchen counter and pulled out a crocheted cat hat. “do you like it? i’ve been practicing my skills!” you smiled, sitting down next to jungwon. “of course i do! it’s perfect,” he said, examining the perfectly crafted hat. god, what did he do to ever deserve someone like you. he loved you so so much.

𝑵𝒊𝒔𝒉𝒊𝒎𝒖𝒓𝒂 𝑹𝒊𝒌𝒊 - 西村 力

your shared love for dancing

“riki!!! come here! i wanna teach you a new dance i learned!” riki heard your voice calling him into one of the practice rooms. when he entered, he saw you with your hair clipped into a messy bun and excess hair framing your hair perfectly. you were wearing his shirt and some sweat pants but you looked ethereal as usual. “hi baby, what’d you learn?” he asked, his tone so soft. “i learned the chorus for spot! and i want to do it together!” you exclaimed, jumping up and down in excitement. the way you were just as passionate about dance as he was made him so happy that you had such a love in the same interest. “yeah, let’s do it” he said, adoring the way you jumped up and down. oh, riki was so head over heals for you.

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first ot7 fic! this was so sweet to write and i really like writing these! i hope you all enjoyed this and feedback and reblogs are always appreciated!

[tojisun]

i need more dadbod!simon

!! smut - minors dni; female reader

thinking about the way simon takes you on your knees, your hands bound on your back, your wrists held by his hand. it makes you drool, the way his strength overpowers you; the way you are suspended for him to use.

the swell of his gut sits on your pretty ass as he humps his cock in your pussy, the stretch of it so big it makes your body lock, preparing for the crescendo of your orgasm.

simon fucks you through it��slipping his cock out slowly, torturously, before pressing in deliciousy, hitting that one spot so intimately deep, you begin whimpering, all delirious from the myriad of pleasure sparking all over you. you don’t know if you want to run away from the way his cock kisses somewhere sensitive, or if you want to push back and meet his thrusts.

he grunts in his pleasure, his other hand mapping out the plane of your spine, massaging your taut muscles as though he isn’t fucking you so well. as though you haven’t been reduced to babbling mewls.

“please,” you hiccup and something in simon shifts because he’s pulling out and pulling away and no, no, wantyouwantyou-

“shh,” simon murmurs, cupping your cheek to wipe away your tears. you didn’t even realize that he’s twisted you to face him; that, even with your body turned into putty, simon was able to lift all that you are with such gentleness.

his bulk shadows you and you peer up at him with a pout, sniffling, feeling yourself run on overdrive. your appetite continues to expand, curling with a yawning desire.

“si-”

“i’ve got you, baby,” he whispers, smiling down on you in the way that makes his eyes crinkle, the lines running on the edges of his face creasing beautifully.

“okay,” you reply, giving him a wobbly smile back. “love you.”

somehow, that makes him smile even more tenderly.

“yeah,” he says, sounding so choked up himself. “love you too, baby.”

you lift your hand up to trace at the scars on his arms, swiping them up along his shoulders, before teasing the ones by his jaw. he’s so pretty. so beautiful.

simon chuckles, murmurs how ticklish it feels, and you giggle an apology before hooking your arms to his back. he shuffles, adjusting himself before you, and you wrap your legs around his waist, your muscles meeting the pudge of his sides.

it makes you squirm. it makes your heart clench with something more than desire.

retirement has never looked more beautiful on him.

simon lines his cock before your pussy again, the tip sliding along your folds in a teasing kiss.

“look at me,” he coos and you blink up at him, going warm at the realization that you’ve just been staring at his cock.

simon shakes his head with a fond laugh, his other hand falling to press on your pelvis. he still looks so serene, so besotted, even when he begins to press in.

you fist at the sheets, back arching off the bed only for simon to push you down carefully. fuck. s’too much.

“si- ah!- s’good.”

he hums, still sliding in. still not in.

he’s so big. so filling. he probably doesn’t even need to know how to fuck to make you feel good at this point.

simon giggles, the sound piercing through your haze.

oh. you said that out loud. whoops.

“so precious f’r me, love,” he grunts, and you mewl, head thrown back when you feel his pelvis finally hit yours.

god. all of it, all of him, is in.

you hiccup a moan, your toes curling from where they’re pressed on his back as simon folds himself towards you, his belly soft as it meet yours, your tits smooshed just below his.

“good?” simon asks, breathless himself.

“always,” you coo, pussy fluttering when simon’s cheeks blush.

he nuzzles his nose along your jaw and you angle your head to give him more room. simon still doesn’t move, doesn’t hump your cunt or thrust wildly.

and yet.

your pleasure continues to peak, building into the beginnings of your orgasm.

fuck. next time, you promise to yourself as you blink up at the ceiling, your mouth parted for gasped out moans, i’ll ask if i can cockwarm him next time.

this is me actually. also me. another me. and this ones me fr. god i need him!!