#my precious freckled boy!!

[natsuki208]

1% human, 99% angel. Look at him!😇 💕

[honorarypines]

redraw of the cutest panel to ever exist:

[natsuki208]

The most beautiful boy! ☀️🌙✨

A boy that deserves the sun, moon and the stars! (And a horse)

Evidence that Marco Bodt is the sun, the moon, and the stars

[evilconcubinemk]

(18/33)

Sub-Zero had, indeed, moved on. He’d had no choice but move on, because he had lost all hope a long time ago. But had he stopped loving Tomas? No, he had not. It had always been somewhere in the back of his mind and deeply rooted inside his heart through all these years. With so many things happening one after another after their death had separated Tomas and him, Kuai Liang hadn’t really had time or opportunity to properly mourn or truly process his grief, but, without a doubt, he did miss Tomas. And he was, most certainly, deeply affected by what was happening before his very eyes now.

That didn’t mean he was a gullible fool.

There were definitely many things that were positively convincing though. Even the way Tomas, or whoever was impersonating him, had removed his mask and his cowl, the way he was shivering from cold struck Sub-Zero by how believable it all looked. Was it natural to recognise such things after intimately knowing someone for such a long time, even many years later, after losing them? In their case, they'd gotten together as adolescents, but their friendship had started even earlier than that. There was no way to erase a mark like that from anyone's life.

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(All of the images are quite large, so, feel free to open them. Or read on AO3)

[puck-luck]

not-so quickie | jack hughes

warnings: morning sex, unprotected p in v, thigh riding, dirty talk, jack as a boob guy for SURE, pet names, domesticity, jack x y/n being precious partners fo'eva pairing: jack hughes x fem!reader summary: the one when reader and jack's morning antics leave jack rushing to get to training. wc: 1967

Whenever you wake up in the same bed as Jack, which was more often than not nowadays, his dick is poking the small of your back or it’s nestled right against the curve of your ass. Either Jack is pulling you into him in his sleep or you’re pressing back into him in your sleep, but the way you get into this position doesn’t actually matter because it always ends in the same outcome: you, awake, because Jack has his morning wood. This morning, the tight grip Jack’s hands has on your hip explains the events of the night perfectly.

Despite the closeness between your bodies, you manage to turn to face Jack without waking him up. You trace the line of his nose, the freckles on his cheeks, and thumb over his bottom lip. 

Still asleep, Jack sighs at your light touch and pulls you as close as he can, slipping his thigh between your legs. You smile, feeling like a beam of light could erupt from your chest with how fond you are for this boy. His eyelashes flutter and the corner of his lip twitches. You can tell he’s fighting to stay asleep and you don’t blame him– the bed is comfortable, warm, and he doesn’t have to be at his off-season training for almost an hour and a half.

“Jacky,” you whisper, watching as his nose scrunches when he loses the battle.

“No,” he groans, voice thick with sleep. He feels blindly for the hem of your big shirt, the only thing you wore to bed last night, and pulls it up until he can pull it over his head. He kisses the space between your boobs before he relaxes and tries to fall back asleep.

You giggle when his breath washes over your chest, partially because it tickles and partially because you know that if Jack could climb into your skin, he would. 

“Good morning, sweet boy,” you say, scraping your fingernails down Jack’s back in soothing movements.

“G’morning,” comes Jack’s muffled reply. “You woke me up.”

When you pull your shirt collar away from your chest to peek down at him, Jack’s got that trademark Hughes pout written across his face. His eyes reflect betrayal, but you know he’s not really mad. 

“You woke me up,” you parrot back at him. 

Jack lets out a “hmph!” of displeasure at that. “Clearly, one of us is lying. That’s not possible.”

“Your little friend poked me awake.” You poke Jack to emphasize your point.

He laughs and his movements shake you. He adjusts you in his arms so you can feel the press of his, still hard, “little friend” against your hip. “This guy?” He asks. 

You hum, nodding. “That’s the one.”

“Poked you awake?”

“Mm-hmm.”

“Well, that’s not very nice of him, is it?”

“Not at all.”

“What should we do about that?”

“I don’t think he should get to have any fun for the next week.”

Jack retreats from under your shirt at that and hovers above you. “A week?” He repeats, disbelief dripping from his words. “No, pretty girl, that’s cruel and unusual punishment. That’s against the Constitution.”

You laugh and press a hand to his chest. “Since when are you such a patriot?”

“I know my rights.” Jack leans down to kiss the side of your neck, then blows a raspberry in the same spot. 

You shriek and twist away from him, but Jack’s hands keep you firmly underneath him. His thigh keeps you pinned in place and offers some solid pressure to your core. His dick is still pressed against your hip and even though you’re both laughing as you try to evade his wandering lips and fingertips, you can practically feel him throbbing with the contact.

“Jack!” You squeal when he digs his fingers into your sides. You reach down and grab his wrists, trying to stop him from making any more moves, but he easily reverses your grip so he’s holding your wrists instead. He presses them down into the pillow above your head and your breath catches. His eyes are on yours and time suspends, the air thick between you two.

You’re breathing heavily and Jack’s got that barely-there smile on his face. He bites his lip, then licks it.

You’re not even registering how your hips grind down on his thigh until he looks down to where you’re touching. You look too and gasp, remembering that you are completely bare on his thigh when you see the patch of wetness glistening on his skin.

When you look back up, Jack is staring at you with something akin to determination in his hooded eyes.

“Not so upset about being woken up now, huh?” He teases, tensing his thigh and leaning into you.

“Shut up,” you breathe out, tilting your hips up to meet him.

Jack watches you without saying a word for a few minutes, a small smile present on his lips. 

Your eyes are closed, your head is tilted back, your hair is loose and falling in a halo around your head. It’s tangled and tousled from your sleep. You’ve got a fading crease from the fabric of your pillow across your cheek. Your shirt has ridden up to reveal your stomach and Jack reaches out to place a hand on it. He spreads his fingers wide and licks his lips at how his hand looks covering you. You’re so beautiful, he thinks, I want to do this with you forever. 

“Jack,” you moan, finally opening your eyes and looking into his. You continue to roll your hips against his thigh, so dense and strong and so there beneath you.

“Yeah, honey?” He replies, leaning down to press a soft kiss to your lips. “What do you need?”

“Want you inside me.” Your jaw drops when Jack thrusts his leg against your core, and stays there.

Jack looks over at the clock on your bedside table and thinks. He’s got a little over an hour before training, but he’ll have to shower and that could take five or thirty minutes depending on if you join him. He needs to cook and eat, which might take twenty minutes. The drive is fifteen minutes if he speeds (he does every time). He looks back at you and melts at the way you’re staring up at him, begging him for more with just your eyes.

“Fuck, can you be quick?” He asks.

“So close already, Jacky, just want you inside.”

Jack rolls onto his back and shoves his boxers down to his knees, pulling you on top of him. “Ride me. Make yourself feel good.”

You line him up with your entrance and sink down, feeling the breath seep out of you as he fills you up. You move your hips in slow circles, feeling him drag along your walls and press every delicious spot inside of you. You lean forward and stabilize yourself by putting both your hands on Jack’s abdomen. You can feel his abs tense as you start to move up and down on his cock.

He’s staring up at you like you’re a dream. He’s got a hand on your hip and a hand on your thigh, rubbing up and down on your smooth skin with his thumb. The only noises between you are the noises of pleasure that fall from your lips and the strangled breaths that fall from Jack’s. You take him how you want him, deep and consistent rather than fast and hard, and Jack wonders if, maybe, this is how life was meant to be lived all along?

When you pull your shirt over your head, Jack’s hand shoots up to knead your breast. He stares, mouth slightly parted, at the way they move when you continue to bounce on top of him and how they fill his palm, the weight of them causing him to smirk with pride. He’s a boob man at heart, always has been, and these tits are his, you’re his. He starts to thrust up into you once he’s got his hands on your tits, loving the way they feel under his fingers so much that he loses track of the fact that you were supposed to be keeping the pace you wanted.

Not that you mind.

You let him fuck up into you, the tip of his dick hitting your deepest point and making you a mess. “Jack,” you whine.

“Yeah, baby, that’s right,” Jack grunts out, one hand dropping to your side to pull you down into him in time with his thrusts up. “Say my name, tell me who’s making you feel good.”

You’re both sweating, a light sheen of sweat glistening on your bodies as the sun peeks through the curtains. If you looked behind you, you’d see the mess that you left on Jack’s thigh earlier. The messy hair that you love so much is starting to stick to his forehead, clumping up in strands that fall across the skin in the most beautiful way. They’re like that because of you, because of how good he’s making you feel, the effort he puts in, and it’s that knowledge that brings you one step closer to your orgasm. 

“You look so,” you say, losing the words when Jack tilts his hips to meet that one spot inside of you. “Oh, fuck, Jack.”

“Gorgeous,” Jack tells you, finishing the sentence that you had started and abandoned. “Everything I ever wanted, my pretty girl, my baby. Wanna see you come, love, wanna see you make a mess all over my cock. C’mon, baby, come for me.”

He continues to urge you as your moans grow in pitch. He continues to slam into you and it’s the tortured whimper he lets out when you clench down on him that sets off your orgasm. You almost collapse on top of him as you move your hips frantically with his stuttering ones. Your hands press on his chest, your breasts dangling right there, right in front of him, and Jack comes. 

“Fuck, baby,” he whines, looping an arm around your waist and fucking up into you wildly as he comes. He bites down and sucks on the skin of one of your tits as he comes down, pulling away to reveal a patch of his saliva that will certainly turn red, then purple, then blue over the next few hours. 

You both breathe heavily after the high of your orgasms, with you gently rising off of Jack and removing him from the warmth of your pussy.

“Good morning,” Jack says again when you cuddle into his side, your head resting on his arm and your fingertips dancing over his stomach.

“Good morning,” you reply with a smile when his dick twitches at your movements.

Jack throws a glance over the top of your head towards the clock.

“Mm,” Jack groans as he pushes himself up. He kisses you, long and soft, before he gets up to go to the bathroom. “That didn’t go as quick as I needed it to. Now I have to rush.”

“You’re complaining?” You tease.

“Never. Never complaining about getting to spend time with my pretty girl.”

You beam as you hear the shower turn on. You slip on one of Jack’s dirty shirts that he left on the bedroom floor the night before and get out of bed yourself, still feeling the remains of the morning’s adventures on your thighs. Maybe, if you’re lucky, you can cut down on Jack’s time to get ready by making his breakfast for him, and he’ll reward you by bending you over the counter. He can never deny you another round when he sees himself dripping out of you so beautifully. That one, if you can swing it, will actually have to be quick.

notes: hi good morning readers yes here i am back again on a monday morning with more smut (i fear... i be thinking about this topic too much). and yet i am running out of things to write about because i do not want to write about the same three actions (a little fingering, a little oral, a little fucking) in every post because i fear that will get old for y'all. MORAL OF THE STORY: SEND REQUESTS! SEND ASKS! SEND COMMENTS ABOUT YOUR FAVORITE PLAYERS AND PEOPLE YOU WANT ME TO WRITE ABOUT! i need help <3 (yes, @johncena2020 i will eventually get to your Mr. Marino. i will.)

[honeyryewhiskey]

wanted: birthday boy

or, surprise, dean! you're dressed up like a cowgirl and he gets a matching outfit cos he's a western-loving FREAK cw!! flirty fluff, kissing, dean & his boyish charm when he's excited 1k words

As his bedroom door clicks shut behind him, Dean stops in his tracks, his eyes growing to the size of saucers as they take in the sight before him. You, standing there with your hands on your hips in the outfit you’ve been saving for today—a perfectly put-together, six-piece cowgirl ensemble. For a long moment, he just stares, frozen as though he’s forgotten how to breathe.

“Whoa,” he finally exhales, the word low and drawn out, his gravelly tone vibrating through the quiet room. It sends a flutter straight to your stomach. His gaze roams, starting at the boots that hug your calves, up past the denim and snug leather chaps, the crisp black blouse with a few buttons popped, finally landing on the hat perched just right on your head. A boyish, sweet smile spreads across his face, lighting him up as a soft laugh escapes his lips.

“Damn, sweetheart,” he murmurs, his voice flustered, matching the pink rising beneath the freckles on his cheeks. “You trying to give me a heart attack on my birthday?”

Your smile widens as you do a playful twirl, the fringe on your chaps swishing dramatically. “You like it?”

The answer is written all over his face. Excitement radiates from him, washing over you in warm, sweet waves. Dean always looks at you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever found, as he’s quite clingy with the things he adores. But this has him looking at you starry eyed. 

“Like it?” he echoes, the words barely above a whisper as he steps closer, his boots scuffing against the floor. His gaze dances across all the fine western details. His hands find your hips, gentle as he runs his fingers along the line of your belt. His eyes popping as he traces the outline of the large buckle, until his hands settle firm on either side of you. 

With careful precision, he dips his head to place the softest kiss on your lips, mindful not to topple the stetson. “I love it. You look like you just walked off the set of The Good, the Bad and the Ugly.” 

You tilt your head coyly, your arms looping around his neck. “I thought you might appreciate it.”

“Appreciate it?” He lets out a low whistle, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “this is the best damn birthday present I’ve ever gotten.” 

One of his hands slides upward, fitting perfectly between your neck and jaw, his thumb brushing over your bottom lip. The gentle touch from heavy hands, the way he can’t stop looking you over, it makes your nerves prickle and your heart skip a beat. He exhales softly, settling his wandering eyes onto yours, “and I haven’t even unwrapped it yet.” 

Your cheeks heat at his words, and with a grin, you pinch his ear that’s been bright pink since he walked into the room. Normally, that earns you a halfhearted scolding—his signature grumbled “quit that”—but not this time. He’s too distracted, staring at you like a lovesick puppy. 

“Well, don’t get too comfortable, cowboy,” you tease, slipping out of his hold, your lips curving into a playful smile. “You haven’t even seen the second part.”

Dean’s brows lift, and a cheeky smirk takes over his face. “Second part?” he echoes, his voice tinged with curiosity and bubbling anticipation.

You cross to the bed, where a garment bag is draped over the comforter. Dragging the zipper down, the sound fills the room, mingling with his soft gasp as you reveal the surprise inside: a matching cowboy outfit. A brown duster coat, well-fitted jeans, chaps, a shirt that mirrors your own, and the perfect finishing touches—an antique bolo tie and a Stetson hat.

Dean’s jaw practically hits the floor. “No way,” he breathes, stepping forward to touch the fabric like it’s sacred. “You—are you serious?”

“Serious as a snake in a sleepin’ bag, sugar,” you quip, voice laced with a dramatic southern drawl as the smile on your lips grows wider at his googly-eyed reaction. “Figured we couldn’t roll into Deadwood without looking the part.”

Dean stares at the outfit for a moment as he takes in the details of your gift. The matching outfits with traditional details that only someone like him would notice and appreciate. A trip to the town he’s been talking about visiting for ages, but never goes because there is always something to hunt, someone to save. When his head turns back to you, his expression softens. “You did all this for me?”

“Of course I did,” you shrug, like it’s no big deal, but the look in his eyes—almost childlike in their admiration—sends a shock right through your chest. Stepping closer, you cup his jaw, tugging him down close enough to place a kiss on his cheekbone. “I love seeing you happy—even if it’s because you’re a huge freak for cowboys.” 

Dean lets out a soft laugh, shaking his head as a crooked smile pulls at his lips. He catches your hand as it drops, pressing a kiss to your palm before letting it go. “You’re somethin’ else, you know that?”

Mhm,” you hum, watching the excitement buzz it’s way through his body again as he fidgets with the outfit again. “Well, go on, Eastwood. Try it on.”

He grabs the hat from the outfit and plops it on his head, adjusting it with a practiced flick of his fingers. His brows set in dramatic stoicism, “how do I look?”

You bite your lip, savoring the moment to soak in the sight of him in that hat—looking utterly, undeniably Dean. Pretending to consider, you tilt your head and smirk. “Like you just stepped out of an old Western.”

“Good,” he nods, his smirk growing with pride at your compliment. “Y’know, I’m thinkin’ maybe we skip the road trip and just…” he shrugs, his smile shifting into that familiar, mischievous challenge. “...stay here. You, me, these outfits—" He trails off, the thought lingering in the air between you. His eyes drop to the expanse of skin peeking out of the few popped buttons of your shirt, His teeth sink into his bottom lip as if he’s trying to stop himself from saying more.

ou arch a brow, crossing your arms, though it does little to break his momentary distraction. His gaze doesn’t waver, not even when you adopt a scolding tone. “Dean Winchester, are you seriously suggesting we bail on your birthday plans after I went through all this trouble?”

“Not bail,” he says quickly, finally meeting your eyes with a boyish grin that’s all charm. Before you can protest, he pulls you into his arms, the lazy smirk on his face deepening. “Just…postpone. Maybe by a day. Or two.” His voice dips, that playful, magnetic lilt curling around each word. “You look too good in that outfit, Sweetheart. How am I supposed to think about anything else?”

Your cheeks burn, though you try to hide it with an exaggerated eye roll. “You’re impossible,” you mutter, feigning exasperation, but the smile tugging at your lips betrays you.

“And you’re irresistible,” he counters smoothly, leaning in to brush his lips against yours, not enough to kiss—just enough to make your pulse quicken. It’s one of his favorite games, waiting for you to break first, his unspoken question hanging in the air. 

“Fine,” you murmur against his lips, your resolve melting. 

The hum of satisfaction in his throat is warm and low, and then his lips press into yours—always a little rough at first, always setting loose a swarm of butterflies in your stomach. He pulls back just enough to smirk at you, the teasing glint in his eyes unmistakable.

“But only for an hour,” you warn, your voice stern as you poke a finger into his chest. “Then we’re hitting the road.”

“Deal,” he chuckles, his hands sliding up to cradle your face, his thumbs brushing gently along your jawline. He leans in again, and this time, the kiss is softer, slower, carrying a sweetness that makes your knees weak.

chat all i want is to play dress up with this idiot fictional man, BRRAAAHH anyways hbd, dboy<3 i almost forgot to post this whoops lol

[amorchai]

𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐕𝐄’𝐒 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐒𝐓 𝐊𝐈𝐒𝐒.

pairing(s): steve harrington x shy!reader

words: 830

warnings/tags: friends to lovers, shy!reader

a/n: this is a repost from my old blog.

you had been too scared to be around steve harrington all night. it may seem ridiculous to others, since you were one of his closest friends. but the overbearing crush you had on him made you distance for the safety of your safely-intact – yet lonely – heart.

steve, the once player-dickhead who would have a new girl on his arm every week until he met nancy wheeler, now a sweetheart you’ve fallen stupidly and desperately for. it was a quick effect. you dodged him in high-school, then dustin begged you to meet him and swore he was a changed man – playing steve’s intense wingman that you didn’t pick up on.

you had never dated before, unsure with how the world of romance worked. you cringed at the thought of you having your first kiss, however, unsure it would ever happen. yet, your eyes followed steve’s curved lips whenever he talked.

he was an angel. you swore to yourself he had a hidden halo above his precious, thick hair. he was so family oriented, great with the children, extremely handsome and sweet, and had your heart singing after him. begging for a chance, desperate for him to be your boyfriend, your everything.

it had been far too much, so when eddie invited you over to his for a barbecue night with the kids and teens, you had pretty much avoided contact the whole night with the freckled face saint-like man. you felt his eyes on you at times, confused on why you were distant but you were struck to hold on.

steve was entrapped to your quiet nature, you were shy usually, observant and listening to the extroverted people – or, eddie munson for that matter. but tonight he felt you were refusing to talk to him alone.

so when everyone was leaving, steve jumped to the chance to walk you back home. you had said, “oh, no, it’s okay! i’m only a couple streets away,” but steve was adamant, sliding on his bomber jacket and walking towards you.

before you knew it you were walking down the dark path, light up with dull streetlamps, some flickering. you would have been terrified walking home alone at this time, but with steve you felt both safe and on edge. safe because steve was your net, you would trust that loyal boy with your life, but on edge from the silent tension in the air.

however, steve didn’t hold it for as far as leaving eddie’s street. you watch the boys cycle home, eleven perched on the back of mike’s bike and lucas nearly falling off his from trying to wave bye to max from her trailer. “you’re quiet tonight,” steve had said, breaking you from your reverie.

you nearly choke on your words as they come out, too scared to speak, “i’m always quiet,” you return, almost whispered in the dark night, air swooshing across your sweater. “not as much as you were today, honey.”

your eyes water and stomach flips at the name, stuttering in reply, “o-oh yeah, jus’ tired i guess, stevie.” he had a small smile on his face, reaching over to slot his hand between yours, you refuse to look down in acknowledgement, trying to keep calm when his fingers slide between yours and gives a tight yet comforting squeeze.

“this okay?” he asks, and you glance at him, his doe-brown eyes already gazing back. glimmering in the moonlight you could feel the overwhelming tears striving to fall. he was too perfect, too sweet and careful.

you only nod, trying to not give away your position. “y/n.” you hum at his voice, being tugged back when steve stops walking, forced to turn and look at him and he’s still looking at you as if you’re the whole world.

because to him you were just that.

“c’mere.”

you’re frozen, so nervous yet excited, your face burning warm as steve moves closer to you and you gain a realisation on what’s happening. he’s holding both your hands against his chest softly, leaning towards you.

it’s like the romance books you read, the ones you’d read until early mornings without sleep. the ones you dreamed of. yet, before that can happen, you’re spluttering, “i’ve never been kissed before.”

steve stops, lips inches from yours and you can feel his warm breath fan your top lip, “huh?” his eyes search yours and you feel the embarrassment flood your veins. why is he not pulling away? why is he not saying how lame that is?

“no one’s kissed me before.”

steve chuckles, yet it sounds more endearing than taunting, and you knew deep down steve was not going to make fun of you for it. “do you want me to be your first kiss?” he asks, more for the consent to kiss you than flirting and when you nod he releases one of your hands to lift your chin, lips align with his before leaning forward.

“’ve wanted to do this for a long time.”

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amorchai © ─ all rights reserved. no reposting/translating/copying will be tolerated.

[buckyalpine]

Okay okay, that Wakanda Bucky imagine was soooooo hella cute 🥺❤️

Would you do a continuation of it where they live happily in the hut and maybe with some smuuuuut ? 🙊 The idea of him in that Hut, all cozy and romantic is not leaving my mind

WAKANDA BUCKY? YES, I will gladly give you more (this can be read as a standalone) There's something about Bucky in Wakanda that's just so soft and comforting to me. That sweet baby with his goats, just living in peace for the first time ever in a place where no one can hurt him. It's also the first place where he can just be himself without the pressure of worrying about anything else.

Just you and him.

He's just so in love with you; his words can only do so much. He wants to make you feel good in the most intimate way possible. He wants to physically give you what words won't translate.

He's nervous though.

He knows you love him for all of his imperfections; there's no doubt you adore every single bit of him. He has no reason to worry about what you'd think.

But this beautiful sweet boy is shy anyway.

Too shy to tell you he wants to make love. Too shy to slip his hands onto your bare skin even though he knows you wouldn't stop him. Too shy to even insinuate he wants more. Ever since you've moved into his hut, he'd wanted you closer. You cuddle every night and he loves the feel of your soft body nuzzled right by his side but its just not enough. He always tells you he loves you and how much you mean to him but it doesn't compare to the way he wants to just melt into you.

He manages to hold his tongue until one night when he just can't anymore. He's cuddled up on your chest while you both lay in his cot and he feels so safe and loved. He wants you now, more than ever. He doesn't even want to take you apart and wreck you; he just wants to love on you softly but he's not even sure if he can, I mean he only has one arm-

"What is it Buck" You whisper, carding your fingers softly through his locks, pushing back the few strands that fell from his half tied hair. "What you thinking about" you let your finger trace over his features, smoothing the crease between his brows that he makes when he's deep in thought. He blushes at you catching his mind in action, blinking with wide eyes before chewing his lip.

"I-

"What is it sweet boy" You continue to let your fingers gently dance over his face and the action makes him purr, leaning for more of your touch.

"I want you"

"You have me baby" You whisper, your heart beating a little faster wondering if he was implying what you were thinking, what you'd been wanting and craving for ages-

"No angel, I want you" He says in earnest hoping you'd understand, "I just-I'm not sure how" He looks down at himself, now afraid to meet your eyes. How could he make you feel good if he only had so much to work with. "I want to make you feel good"

He hesitantly lets his hand slide along your hip up to your waist and slipping under your shirt. The feeling of your bare skin is already so addicting, he starts to work at taking your clothes off as soon as you nod with a needy please. He finds you so unbearably gorgeous when you're naked on his bed and at one point he thinks that might be enough.

Your bare form is everything to him and he'd do anything to worship your more sacred places.

He'd be such a precious baby when it comes to you undressing him. The pink on his cheeks spreads to his ears and he can't help but gush at the way you kiss every scar and freckle on his skin when you let his robe drop to the floor.

"You're perfect" You whisper and he shakes his head because he's nothing in comparison to you. Not with all those angry red lines scattered across his chest, scars covering most of his skin.

"Not like you angel, I'm not-

"You are. Do you have any idea how beautiful you are soldier, how perfect and strong your body is" You don't let him argue, a gasp slipping past his lips when you wrap your hand around his length and start to pump. He's about to protest again because this is about you but he has no idea how long you've been waiting to do this for him.

"Please Bucky" You softly beg and he's an absolute goner when you wrap your hand around his aching length. Just when he thinks it couldn't get any better; your warm soft palm stroking him up and down, you tell him how beautiful and perfect he is and he swears he could cry.

"Look at how pretty you are baby" You coo, perched between his spread legs, leaning over to suckle the tip, humming at the taste, "Can't believe you hid this all from me for so long baby"

"Another-fuck sweets-another night, God I'll cum-you gotta stop" He whines as you release with a pop, your lips covered in his slick. He pulls you to lie down beside him, thinking about all the times he imagined making love to you. Looking into your eyes, letting his body cage you from the rest of the world, just you and him and nothing else.

But it wasn't easy with 1 arm.

"M'sorry baby, I-" Bucky stuttered, feeling unsteady as he hovered above you.

"Lay down for me" You cut off his rambling with a kiss to his lips before letting his head fall against the pillow. "Just wanna feel you Jamie, be close to you" You moan, rubbing your now dripping pussy all over his cock. "Want you inside me"

"Put my cock in you angel" Bucky's feral side made an appearance while he held his length letting you line up with the tip, the both of you gasping at the feeling of him finally pushing into you. "Fuck babydoll, wanted this so bad"

"oh fuck" You threw your head back at the feeling, all the pieces inside you coming together as you sank all the way down making you feel complete. "You feel so good inside me Bucky" You whined, grinding and rocking yourself on his thick length, feeling him in your belly.

"C'mere angel, please" He begged, reaching for you and pulling you causing you to fall onto his chest. He planted his feet and started to thrust up making you cry out. "Wanted to make love to you baby, I-fuck I love you so much, wanna make you feel so good"

"Feels-so-good-hng" You whimpered between thrusts, nipping and sucking bruises onto his neck while he held onto you tightly with his arm. "I'm-so close-

"I'll make you feel good" Bucky groaned, pushing you back up and slipping his hand between your bodies while you leaned back and held onto his thighs. You cried out as he found your clit, moaning louder with you and he toyed with your pussy.

"That feel good baby?" He panted, letting his thumb rub your clit in fast circles, your silky soft bud throbbing against the digit, "You look so pretty with my cock in you angel, cum for me, cum for me pretty girl"

It didn't take long for you to shatter around him, and Bucky followed right behind. He nearly sobbed as you collapse against his chest while he pumped you full of his load, not bothering to pull out long after his cock softened. Cuddling with you with his spent cock warm in your soaked pussy was his favorite part of the night. Nothing was more intimate than the both of you so closely connected, whispering sweet nothings while tangled under the soft sheets, the both of you falling asleep in the warm, cozy air of the hut.

[chocsra]

✧ "Salvation; Devotion"

16! stormbringer! Chuuya x fem! reader

✧ summary: being targeted by paul verlaine after being chuuyas friend, though when he comes to talk to you with a european detective, it seems to be more than friendship. ✧ content: small oneshot, fluff, angst (kinda), adam + angsty teenagers ✧ w/c: 1.4k

Chuuya - meaning "loyalty, devotion"

Nakahara - meaning "central plain"

His devotion was not only his strongest attribute, but his most tender weakness.

You knew a boy. He was young and short, but fiery and strong. He was mysterious, born with unknown origins, and walked the wrong path, that's why he's not only humanity's most destructive weapon but a lowly, pitiful, criminal.

It was something you weren't, though you didn't mind much.

But under the guise of celestial imperfections, Chuuya was a constellation falling into place. He was beautiful. Sunkissed with the kind of foreign beauty you’d see in actors that would play some sort of prince. Your first examination of him was his wealthy and neatly ironed clothing—the kind of blazers and shoes that you’d find in a modelling campaign. Even the accented cuffs of his clothing were underlined with emerald or other precious stones. Then, his silky russet hair, one thrown into a low ponytail—the hairstyle itself still retained a strong masculinity despite the length. Or maybe that came from the musky cologne he constantly wore. A hint of cigarettes, strawberries and that strong scent of virile.

The soft glow from his copper locks then shifted to the fitted collar around his neck—an odd fashion choice, but it really accentuated the ivory of his skin. Soft, sun-kissed skin that’d make its way to his face. A beautiful face, really. Delicate and angelic features with a permanent scowl tugging on his lips—soft pink lips. Chuuya's eyes reflected a fine smoky quartz. His cheeks and nose kissed with a few scattered freckles.

You wondered why a boy so sublime had the status of an onerous beast. Even he took the words that held the weight of a blade and cut himself until he was reduced to the slit of a knife.

You met that same boy, a masterpiece ripped at every edge, not in the dangers of the mafia, but where a silver line stretches to the sea. Where the sun meets the sky, where the light shines.

But even then, you treated him differently. You didn't treat him like he was something fragile. Neither did you treat him like the monstrosity he was sought out to be. You didn't worship him, nor did you greatly depend on him. Instead, you found his humanity and treated him as such. Once a stranger, then a friend, then..

Nevermind.

"Chuuya?!"

You heard the calamity of each step he took to reach you, the boy stopping to pant. "[Y/N].. we need to talk." next to the redhead, was a tall European man with short brown hair, he didn't look tired at all compared to Chuuya. "Greetings, my name is Adam Frankenstein." You cocked a brow at his monotonous voice, the way his mouth moved didn't seem in sync with his words either. "You're rather special, Master Chuuya spent almost 7 hours looking for yo-" Adam explained briefly, causing the redhead to grimace and cut him off, "Shut it, will ya?!"

...

You heaved a bothersome sigh, elbows planted on a cafe table as the two men sat in front of you. "So.. why do you need me, Chuuya?" you question, fiddling with your fingers, "And who's he?.." your gaze uplifts to the brunette foreigner, which the man carefully takes a pack of gum and begins to unfold it, popping a piece in his mouth, before swallowing it. Your eyebrows furrow in a moment of youthful distaste.

Chuuya clutches the cup of tea between his gloved fingers and murmurs something intangible, "Adam's a detective from Europole, investigating Verlaine. He wants to know more about him, which is why he's been following me around.." he finally explains, taking a calculated and almost frustrated sip of his tea.

"Verlaine. Who's Verlaine?" You ask momentarily, causing the redhead to part his lips to answer, but you quickly halt as the detective swallows another piece of gum down his throat. "And why is he chewing gum like that?"

"That's what I'm sayin'!" the teenager half-seriously slams the cup of tea on the table, "He swallows it like a nutjob. You need help, tin man." Chuuya scoffs, his Adam's apple bobbing in his throat almost nervously.

"You need help. You spent 6 hours and 47 minutes looking for h-" the brunette explains with a hint of sass in his voice, the redhead's eyes widening in shock, "I said shut up!"

You shuffle in your seat awkwardly as the two men argue. Scratching the back of your neck before Chuuya finally settles down, patting down the cashmere of his suit.

"So here's the thing about Verlaine.. he's this batshit crazy assassin, and uh.. here's the real kicker.." the mafioso mutters, fiddling with his gloved fingers uneasily. "You're gonna be the bait."

Your jaw immediately drops, a hand clasping over your chest in the offence. "Excuse me?! For what?.. to get killed?!" Chuuya looks distressed at your response, seeking Adam's gaze for at least a little help in his later response.

"Your safety is ensured. We just need to lure Verlaine out, so Master Chuuya can eliminate him." the detective explains rather calmly, fishing for something in the pocket of his suit before handing a chocolate bar to you. "Here, sugar helps with stress." the redhead smiles awkwardly at Adam's response, giving a nervous thumbs up.

You snatch the chocolate bar with a bit of attitude, eyes narrowing to Chuuya as the boy inhales sharply, "I thought I wouldn't get involved in your mafia affairs, now I have to die?" you ask with furrowed brows, anger cracking in your voice. Causing the teenager to gulp in slight fear, a rare sight to Adam, as he's never sensed fear from Master Chuuya. Especially to a young girl like you.

"Well, you won't die... More like, almost die." The detective explains, hoping he'd ease your nerves at least a bit. "Doesn't matter! M'not doing it!" You shout in vexation, hopping up from your seat as you pick up your school bag. "Plus, I couldn't if I wanted to, anyway," you murmur,

"Wait.. why?" Chuuya asks with conviction.

your gaze adverts to the different sights in the area: the park bench, passersby, and the cafe's menu. Anything but Chuuya's confused face.

"Uhm.. I have a project that's due tomorrow, and I didn't start yet."

"You can't be serious!"

The teenager runs up to you in frustration, you clutch your bag as you turn to him. "Oh, but I am!" you remark, walking faster as the brunette detective catches up. "I'm very serious! After all, this is a serious project!"

The redhead pants and wipes a bead of sweat off his forehead, "You're really gonna prioritise a school project over your own life?!" he cries out, still trying to catch up to you.

"Anything is better than being bait for the Port Mafia!" You yell out, settling your argument atop a bridge, ignoring how the sun was starting to set in an arrangement of oranges and pinks. "Shit- Don't say that so loud!"

"I'd rather finish a school project than become bait for the Port Mafia!!"

You repeat again, louder this time. Chuuya pinches his nose bridge in frustration, tilting his head up towards the setting sun. And upon you halting your swift steps, the redhead finally catches up to you, and to your surprise, he grabs your hand to spin you around.

"Look, I had a shitty week too!" the boy lets go of your hand, making you huff a little bit. But instead of letting you go, he cups both of your cheeks and pulls you close, his gaze never averting from yours. "People that mattered to me died, so many of them," the teenager explains, a melancholic glint lingering in his pretty eyes, you could see it all from the close proximity of his face. "and I'd do anything for you to not be one of those people."

You gulp hard as your eyes scan over the glass of his eyes, the once stormy grey now welling holding back tears.

Silence.

Adam clears his throat, standing beside you and the mafioso awkwardly, "Apologies for interrupting. But this whole exchange is very childish. Master Chuuya, don't you think there are better words to articulate your romantic feelings towards [Y/N]?.. Perhaps after this all over, you can solve this by getting into a relationship-" you and the boy both retort at the detective in unison:

"Shut up, Adam!"

...

"Okay, I'll help you." you frown with conviction, "You owe me a school project, though."

The redhead presses two fingers to his glabella, "I'll send someone to complete it for you."

✧ chocsra™

taglist for those who interacted in this post:

@loserzai @juice1231 @silverbladexyz @soleelia @cherylpoptarts @jackiepackiee @sapphire-tears013 @sstarshroom @n0thum4ny @roujira

[aweina]

ᥫ᭡. school boy crush , mike schmidt ( fluff )

wow, she’s really pretty …

tags fem reader. mutual pining. strangers to crushes. awkward older brother mike. abby has a new bestie.

the doorbell buzzes. three times exactly, few second pauses in between each of them — ultimately forcing him to wake up with a blank mind.

shuffling towards the door, mike tiredly opens it and finds a woman, seemingly around his age, and some younger girl patiently waiting on his doorstep. he’s confused at first, just woken up from a heavy snooze — the curls on his head are frizzy and his mouth dry from crashing into bed without some water.

his brain doesn’t register anything other than the woman on his doorstep, you, was the prettiest person he’s ever seen. he scans your face carefully — making sure to rub off the blurry haze that his slumber brushed over his vision while keeping his gaze subtle. tracing over your eyes and mouth. a pink hue stains his freckled cheeks when you finally caught him staring, a soft laugh escaping your lips as he profusely apologizes in an incoherent manner.

you formally introduce yourself, pointing towards the young girl who happened to be your younger sister — a new friend of abby’s. mike is relieved, his sister finally making friends that are actual living beings and not some ghost lingering in her head. but he’s also conflicted, seeing how pretty you are and how hard he could contain himself around you.

suddenly, mike’s smitten trance is shattered when he’s pushed away from the door, where abby happily greets your younger sister and yourself. her voice upbeat and her small arms wrapped warmly around both your bodies. the young brunette turns around towards her brother, a sour look on her face.

“don’t creep out my new friend.” abby warns, sticking her tongue out to mike while she protectively holds your sister’s hand.

“yeah, he was staring at my sister weirdly.” your sister shyly mumbles, intended for only abby to hear but both you and mike heard her clearly.

he’s embarrassed, being called out by a child of all people. even worse, it was in front of you to hear — now biting back a pleased laugh while ruffling the messy locks of your sister out of the act to comfort her.

“now don’t be rude. he seems like good company.” you assured your sister with a smile so radiate, mike swore he saw a reflection flash in his eyes.

you gazed up at him, eyes so soft and holding no malice — not one’s he usually sees. he nervously gulps at your lingering eyes, dragging towards his pursed lips and tired eyes, the same thing he did just moments ago. wait, are you checking him out too?

mike couldn’t help but gaze away shyly, a big grin on his face. your staring was too intense, but at least he knew the attraction wasn’t one sided. then you do the same, noticing your own fleeting gaze and the knowing smile on his face, your polite smile quivering and nervously coughing.

both the young girls quietly observe your nonverbal flirting, confusion knitted into their small brows.

“umm actually, i think both of them are weird.” your sister faintly yells as she gently nudges abby, who nods in agreement.

add. note : mike is just being lovesick is so precious. he also needs to make a new ‘friend’ just like abby aka YOU ( ¯▿¯ ) !!

[hawkinsbnbg]

Steve who transitioned from boxers boy to briefs and panties girl after he accidentally found out how comfy they were when Eddie bought him some pairs once they moved in together.

These days, he’d walk around their house in nothing but one of Eddie’s oversized old tees and his daily cotton briefs.

Whenever he felt especially pretty, he’d let Eddie pick out a pair of panties for him.

It wasn’t necessarily sexual. Eddie would just press a kiss on the tiny bow before helping him get dressed for the day.

Most of the time, though, Eddie would pause to gaze at him, taking in his half-naked form—sun-kissed skin, covered in moles, scars, and freckles, wearing only a golden chain around his neck and flushed pink panties that clung to his crotch snugly—before breathing out.

“Gorgeous.”

As if Steve was an art piece displayed in Louvre, not just a damaged man who had turned soft and mellow over the years.

And over and over again, Eddie never failed to remind Steve how cherished he was.

Sometimes, Eddie would leave hickeys on his thighs so he would feel them all day.

Sometimes, Eddie would take photos of his cheeks wrapped neatly in baby blue with a cursive Daddy written on the cotton.

“So I won’t miss you when I’m at work, sweetheart.”

Sometimes, Eddie would tug the gusset to the side and eat him out until his knees gave out beneath him.

And sometimes, Eddie would simply hold him in his lap, look at him with adoration and fondness, and call him, “my pretty girl”.

Whatever Eddie did always brought smiles to his face, made him feel special and cared for.

Perhaps, this was how being loved and in love.

Precious and beautiful.

Warm sunlight and tender moonlight.

Buttery pancakes and sweet strawberry jams.

And Steve wouldn’t trade it for the world.

[natsuki208]

You know, as much as I love Marco to bits, I’ve always wondered why out of all the cadets did he befriend and encourage Jean the most? Is it really because he’s just that sweet of a guy and likes to help people or is it something else?

…

If it’s not because he had a big (secret) crush on him, I don’t know what is! ☺️☺️

POV: Marco whenever his mind is on Jean.

[jilixthinker]

perfect baby

=͟͟͞♡ felix × fem!reader

=͟͟͞♡ long hair felix devotion

word count: 1.2K

content warning: smut, explicit sexual content, sub!felix, dom!fem reader, established relationship, mommy kink, subspace, overstimulation, baby talk, kitten talk, cock play, balls slapping (just once), hair pulling, dacryphilia, cum eating, felix and reader are in love, felix is just a baby

=͟͟͞♡ please consider reblogging if you like my works!

Lixie has been a whimpering mess for more than two hours now, rutting endlessly against the rough fabric of the mattress as the only stimulation you can let him have. Breathy moans muffled by the pillow under his head while his swollen cock is wetting the sheet underneath, angry purple and oversensitive after the third or was it the fourth? orgasm he had.

"What's going on baby? Is it too much for you?" you coo condescendingly. "But you said you could keep going for mommy, right? You would never disappoint me".

Felix keeps rubbing himself in small circles, quickly puffing air out of his opened mouth. A dribble of saliva forming a tiny bubble at the corner of his bottom lip.

"N-no mommy, Lixie can - ah, mh - Lixie s' a good boy, he can - mh - Lixie c-can keep going".

You look down and he is just gorgeous, all pretty and spread for you, lips red, eyes glossy and trembling legs. You lower your hand, pressing your fingers on the soft fat of the back of his thigh before slapping him lightly on his cheeks.

"Ass up baby. Be a good kitten for mommy, okay?"

Felix nods frantically, readjusting himself on his hands and knees, legs shaking a bit for being relieved and denied of the painful pleasure at the same time.

"M-mommy, 'm sorry".

Your hand caresses the small of his back, surpassing his round butt and resting in between his thighs, flicking your fingers agains his balls.

"Sorry about what, angel?"

Felix cries a little when you gently roll one of his balls in your hand, still hot and wet from his previous orgasm.

"I-i can't cum anymore, ah - mommy made Lixie cum so much, I c-cannot, there's no... ah AH - there is nothing left", and he sniffs painfully, "L-lixie's dry".

You slap the back of his swollen balls and he lets out the sweetest sound, cock twitching for the slight pain.

"I don't think so Lixie, I bet my baby boy has still something for me inside him. And you know mommy wants everything, right? Every little drop is hers to have, not yours."

You scoop forward with your arm and you wrap your right hand around his cock, not worring about jerking him off but just stimulating his spongy head, all red and puffy. You press your index against his slit and felix nearly screams, knees trembling and thighs shaking.

"Aw baby... too much? You don't wanna be mommy's pretty toy anymore?"

With the other arm which is not torturing him you grab a handful of his long hair, blonde and silky, almost comically angelic in contrast with the image of the boy beneath you. You wrap your hand around a long lock and you suddenly pull, Felix's head harshly pulled back exposing his milky neck.

"N-NO! Lixie is mommy's doll, ah - jus' wanna make mommy happy but is, mh - is s' much... b-but I can take it. I can".

You pull his hair more. Now his back is completely arched, perky butt shaking and blooming with red marks all over his freckled skin.

"I guessed that. My sweet precious boy. Lixie is gonna give me all of his sweet cum, isn't he? All his warm cum until he coats mommy's hand. And then mommy's gonna make him lick it clean, because that's what good kittens do".

You start to circle fastly your wrist around his tip, obscene squelching noises filling the room while felix begins to properly cry his eyes out.

"M-mommy ah - please - it h-hurts, mh - Lixie is... it's, oh god ah - s'good, it's so good".

His hands eventually give up, leaving him on his elbows, face squished on the mattress while you keep rubbing the palm of your hand against the head of his cock, scratching it lightly with your nails and making him mewl and squirm so much you think he is gonna pass out. But you know him, you have known him for years now, and that's what he likes, to be reduced to a mess, your silly toy to play with.

"Maybe I am being too harsh with you angel. maybe mommy is being too mean with his baby boy. Does Lixie want to stop?" you ask him pretending to be worried. "Mommy can stop now and leave you like this if that's what you want".

Felix nearly screams again at your words, falling completely for your facade.

"N-no mommy!! No please, n-no, don't stop ah - Lixie wanna give you everything. Mommy's s-so good and nice.. mommy's the b-best for Lixie".

You smile and let his hair free, gripping his hips instead to try steading him, the poor boy so wrecked and lost into his subspace that he cannot stay still anymore. With the hand in between his legs you start pumping his cock fast and hard, feeling his balls slapping at the base with every stroke.

"That's my baby. Always so perfect for his mommy. Now I want you to let go and be a good boy for me. You need to cum on mommy's hand. I don't want a few drops, okay? I want to to cover all my fingers. And after you lick them, if you'll be good, I will push the rest in my pussy and let you watch. Does it sound nice, Lixie?"

Felix is just babbling at this point, not a single thought in his empty head, just pleasure mixed with pain and that warm and sticky feeling of being utterly yours. His only desire is to be good for you, to accomplish every desire of yours and being praised for doing that.

"Oh mommy please please please - oh god oh AH ah mmmh - mommy please, Lixie's gonna cum, please please ah - imma c-cum real hard ah!"

You lower your head and lick a fat stripe on the skin of his right cheek, stroking your hand fast on the soft spot just under the tip of his cock. You bite his milky skin one more time and that's it for him, he is sobbing and cumming on your fingers. Hot spurts of pearly cum cover all your hand, warm and creamy, while he finally breathes all of the pleasure out of himself, collapsing on the bed immediately after.

"S' good, mommy, I love you... Lixie loves you so much", he blurts softly before wrapping his swollen lips around your fingers and sucking all the cum in his mouth, moaning and lapping it until you are completely clean.

You bring your other hand to stroke gently his hair, combing his locks and lying next to him, before hugging him tight. Felix snuggles against your chest, still panting a little and nuzzling his head on your breasts.

"I love you too baby. You did so well for me, you are always so good. I love you so much, you cannot even know".

You kiss the top of his head, hot and sweaty, while whispering loving words to him until you can feel the regular breathing sound of him falling asleep.

"My sweet angel", you puff quietly while you watch him rest with the most content and pleasured espression on his face.

He really is your perfect baby.

©️ jilixthinker, 2023. please do not copy, translate, or republish my works anywhere.

[zorosdimples]

꒰ OKKOTSU YUUTA X ITADORI YUUJI X READER ꒱

minors do not interact—i will block you! cw: threesome, anal, cunnilingus; reader has a vagina. note: brief okkoita fluff—but make it sexual (thank for rotting my mind @yutaleks❕)

None of you are going to last long.

It’s impossible, you think to yourself, as you ride Yuuji’s flushed face. Rolling your hips with fuzzy, heavy-lidded contentment, you watch Yuuta prep the younger man with three lithe fingers that glisten with lube and desire.

Bone-deep devotion licks its way up your spine and curls around your ribcage, prying open your chest and settling in your heart. Witnessing your partners love one another—and you, by extension—fills you with a giddy delirium more precious than gold. Ambling honey fills your lungs and makes each breath cloying.

Pleased with his work, Yuuta positions himself and teases Yuuji’s stretched hole with his cockhead. He eases inside with careful, measured strokes, cool digits rubbing soothing circles onto Yuuji’s freckled hips. Muffled whimpers and moans sound beneath you, resonating in your core to send quaking tremors through your limbs.

Just as you lose balance and begin to tip forward, Yuuta catches you in an embrace; your lips surge to meet his in a sloppy kiss with too much tongue. You share a breathless chuckle—forehead to forehead—when your teeth click together.

When your mouths finally part, Yuuta presses Yuuji’s knees to his shoulders, folding him in half. Yuuta fucks hard and deep, jet mane falling over his face. Caught up in his own euphoria, the man beneath you parts from your pussy to babble demandingly: “M-more, hard—harder, faste—”

“Yuuji.”

The endearment (reserved for only the tenderest moments) is clipped and authoritative; it holds little of Yuuta’s usual warmth and softness. His eyes are harsh, a rogue, unforgiving wave amidst a calm sea. It’s a pointed warning: finish what you started. And it’s effective. Yuuji swallows a whine and flushes mottled rose down to his collarbone, a picture of unfettered need.

You reach a hand back to tug at Yuuji’s dusty strands, grinding down on his face. You gasp his name as he suckles on your folds and plays with your entrance before returning to your clit. A pleased hum rumbles Yuuta’s pale chest.

“Good boy,” he praises while pushing his hair back. “Keep it up and I’ll fill your cute ass.”

(Yuuji’s hole flutters at the thought.)

Yuuta has always been the most composed of you three: polite, intelligent, kind, pragmatic. But there’s a vulnerability that you and Yuuji coax out of him; you encourage him to live in the moment, to abandon decorum and to lose himself in pleasure. And if his creased brow and ragged breath is anything to go by, he’s clinging to composure by a thread.

The air is stifling—heady and ripe with the heat of three intertwined bodies, each seeking their own end. Yuuta thrusts and Yuuji licks and you ride until it feels like your thighs are going to give out. When Yuuji finally slips a few fingers into your heat and suckles gently on your clit, you fall apart at the seams, arousal coating his hot, greedy tongue.

After wriggling free from Yuuji’s bruising hold, you climb off of his face and grasp his neglected cock. It’s heavy in your hand and mauve at the tip; when you tug his foreskin down, you’re rewarded with a fat pearl of pre. You lean down and hold his gaze through wet eyelashes as you press a wet kiss to his tip. Then, you settle beside him, whispering filth in his ear (loud enough for Yuuta to hear and nearly orgasm to).

Only moments after you begin stroking his shaft, Yuuji crests with a throaty cry. In the aftermath, he seeks the warmth of your lips. Yuuta enjoys the scene—his two lovers with tears shimmering on their cheeks, messily swapping spit—before spilling his seed. He fucks Yuuji through his high until his spend drips into a frothy pool on the sheets.

You relax into Yuuji’s side and smear kisses against his neck before resting your eyes. Movement on the bed causes you to stir; two men hover over your prone form, fisting their still-throbbing cocks.

“You didn’t think we were done—did you?”

[coyotelip]

wolfstar microfic: first kiss || hospital au pt.3 || @wolfstarmicrofic || wc: 730

Dr. Lupin sleeps with his mouth open.

It's not something Sirius would expect to find out about the senior surgeon just a week after they met. But when he walks into the break room during his night shift, this is the first thing he sees.

The small sofa in this room is not suitable for sleeping, but somehow the tall man has pulled his knees to his chest to fit on the worn-out cushions. Before, Sirius had felt as if Dr. Lupin towered over him from the height of his experience and a few extra centimeters of tallness, but now his thin figure looked small.

His eyes are closed, his glasses are pushed up on his forehead, his light brown hair is a mess from sleeping on a small decorative pillow, and a small trickle of saliva is dripping from the corner of his mouth. He makes a soft snoring sound.

The rest of the on-call staff must have found more comfortable and private places for those precious hours of sleep, so Sirius is the only one in the room who has to watch this scene.

He forgets about the energy drink he had just come for and instead approaches the sofa, now hovering over the sleeping body. He hasn't had the opportunity to talk to Dr. Lupin up close again, so he takes this moment to look at the man more closely. His face is lightly wrinkled from tiredness, and he has bruises under his eyes from lack of sleep, but on the other hand, his pale skin is covered with light freckles and a couple of moles near his eyes.

His fingers reach out to touch his hair. Sirius can't answer what exactly is driving him at this moment, the unnatural light glistening on his dirty hair and beckoning him like a fool's fake gold. Carefully, he moves it away from his forehead, accidentally touching the warm skin… Too warm.

The sleeping man does not react to this accidental touch. His breathing is just as steady, so Sirius summons up the rest of his courage and touches his forehead again, this time covering it with his palm.

Just as he thought, Dr. Lupin's skin is warmer than it should be. However, it could just be his own cold hands, so Sirius decides to try another method.

He leans in even closer, glad that his hair is tied back in a ponytail, and touches his lips to the man's forehead. The way his nanny always used to tell if they had a fever.

The skin beneath his lips is hot.

Before Sirius can think of what to do next, the body beneath him shudders. First, Dr. Lupin jerks his leg in the way that happens when you suddenly jerk out of a dream. Then his head snaps up, nearly hitting Sirius on the chin. The man's eyes are round with surprise and he looks directly at the boy.

“Black? What are you doing here?” the question sounds rushed, as if the man is still processing the situation.

“I… came to get…” Sirius doesn't have time to answer before he is interrupted.

“Did you kiss me?” and now the sleepy eyes narrow, looking at him with suspicion. But there is no anger in them.

“No?” the answer sounds uncertain, even though Sirius thinks the question is ridiculous. Of course he didn't kiss the older man!

“You literally pressed your lips to my face, Black,” and at that moment Lupin seems to realize that he is still in the prone position and sits up abruptly on the sofa. His hands unsuccessfully try to smooth out the crumpled robe.

“No, I was just checking your temperature, Doctor.” Sirius raises his hands as if to defend himself. “You seem to have a fever.”

“Pfft,” the man snorts as if at an absurd joke. “A fever? With your lips? Last time I checked, touching someone with your lips was called a kiss, Black.”

“No, I… God… I think that's a pretty common way to check the temperature, isn't it?” the guy tries to grasp at straws, beginning to realize he's wrong.

“Yes, among mothers and grandmothers. Not among real doctors, boy,” and Lupin sighs heavily and drops his head on his chest as if in despair. “Go away and let's forget about it, Black.”

Not wanting to play with fire, Sirius quickly disappears out the door, forgetting all about his energy drink.

[thetxtdevil]

I’ve been thinking a lot about Kai’s baby tummy >_< Like imagine him being so insecure about his cute belly and in an attempt to make him feel better one thing leads to another and it ends up in a blowjob session

Nothing makes me go more ballistic than to think that this man, this GORGEOUS man is insecure

So yes, I will fulfill this request, no questions asked.

---

Slouched in the cushions of the couch, Kai stares at his phone, face hiding in his hoodie. You walk in the room stopping to admire your cute boyfriend. Your smile transforms into a pout, eyebrows scrunch with worry when you notice the slight sadness in his eyes.

"What's wrong, angel?" you say as you sit next to the man.

Kai mumbles but you couldn't understand his worries. You look over at his phone currently playing an unedited video of txt doing a dance practice. You beam watching the boys glide through the dance floor.

"I don't understand" looking at Kai's pout, gently kissing it.

"My stomach! I don't like how I look..."

You look back at the phone noticing the many times his shirt flew up exposing his physique. "Oh Kai." You pull his face to look at you, kissing every inch of his face while grabbing the phone out of his hands placing it nicely on the side table "you know that I know you're the most handsome man."

Kai's eyes on you drift away as his cheeks turn pink. You fondly smile at him sinking into your arms. "Do I need to prove it to you?"

The man slightly nods, you begin to kiss both of his plush cheeks then his lips. "You have the cutest nose" you kiss his nose, "the dreamiest eyes" you peck his eyelids. Kissing along his jawline down to his neck "I love every curve and freckle of your body." By now Kai was letting out the cutest whines of enjoyment. Pulling the oversized hoodie off the man, you fix his hair glancing at his big brown eyes once more.

Leaning down kissing his chest you eventually get to the main point, his cute lil tummy. You start to massage the flesh as you lick and leave love bites. You moan at how the beauty Kai is, he is absolutely scrumptious. His eyelashes flutter opening his eyes looking down at you, your hands splayed on his tummy, face in complete bliss.

While leaving marks the of precious skin you felt something poking you. Unfazed you smirk looking down at the erection showing through the sweats. "Did I make you feel better?"

Kai nods and grunts out a yes. "Can I admire your pretty cock then?"

"Yes, please"

Pulling down his pants along with his briefs you watch as his dick hit his cute tummy. Kai cries out when your thumb rubs his tip gathering the precum. "You're my prettiest boy." With a few pumps, he watches your smile wrap around him.

A nuisances,

TxT's Devil

taglist: @inkigayocamman, @naoristerling