#pink pointed toe pumps

[yawnderu]

hello!! big fan of bimbo!reader and simon, i love them so much. i imagine them having a gym they go to together and while simon is doing his workout, getting hella into it, he looks over and bimbo!reader is always just kind of playing on her phone while sitting at a machine legs swinging. or we just follow ghost around so we can stare at his big sweaty muscles for the whole hour. bimbo!reader def makes going to the gym an experience, has to wear a cute lil outfit with her matching water bottle, etc. i’m at the gym writing this 🥲🥲

HII lovely!! thank you so so much<333 answering this along with your other ask!! omg with my last ask, i feel like simon enjoys watching bimbo reader get hot on at the gym. when she turns down goes, she points over to her big buff bf 🥰🥰

The princess treatment applies everywhere. Simon racks and unracks the weights for you, sometimes even adding his own to complete sets after you.

It never fails to amuse him how you can casually do his PR on leg extensions, perfectly manicured nails holding your phone, the strawberry charm he bought you dangling from it.

He doesn't fail to notice how you keep staring at him when you think he's too focused on his workout, muscles bulging out from his tight, black compression shirt every time he lifts the heavy weights. He sometimes gives you a side eye, a small smirk pulling on the corners of his lips at the fact that you're staring so hard.

He's not bothered by it, it's actually quite the opposite— he feels proud of working so hard, keeping his body strong to protect you, and he knows you'll be praising his muscles once you're both back home. He's already aching to feel your long acrylics run down his skin gently, squeezing at the muscle.

Pretty little thing like you, wearing a lovely pink outfit matching with your water bottle. He can't stop himself from staring as you warm up, looking at the way your shorts hug your curves, sports bra exposing most of your back now that the pump cover has been discarded. He watches with amusement as a guy comes up to you, trying to strike conversation.

“Hey, beautiful.” Your face scrunches up before turning around, trying your best to give him a small smile and not look disgusted at the idea of anyone other than your Simon flirting with you.

“Taken.” You point towards Simon, your face lighting up as he makes eye contact with you before turning to stare at the guy, raising an eyebrow. He doesn't even have to make himself more brooding— his size itself is enough for the other guy to simply turn away without saying a word, going to another corner of the gym to finish his workout.

Simon's brown eyes are fully focused on you as you walk to him, standing on your tip toes to give his cheek a soft kiss.

“I'll spot for you, Si.” He doesn't need a spot, yet having you watching him has always made him reach a new PR each time. Anything to impress his angel.

Bimbo!Reader Masterlist

[rmadridcore]

Beyond the Line

Pairing: Kylian Mbappé x Reader

Summary: You and Kylian enter a friends with benefits arrangement, but as the connection deepens, you struggle to keep your emotions in check.

Word Count: 7.4K

Warning: Smut! (Minors DNI)

Author’s Note: I’ve had this idea for a while and intended to make it a two part series but I couldn’t stop writing when I started lol 😭 so she’s a long one. Hope you enjoy it, lmk what you think 🤍

There’s a strange kind of pleasure in a bit of toxicity. To a point, at least. It doesn’t always make sense, but sometimes, the undeniable physical chemistry makes sacrificing peace of mind worth it. The fire, the intense connection, can outweigh all the flaws in the relationship.

The way Kylian’s tongue traced your folds made all the buried, unresolved feelings seem worth it. He had his head nestled between your thighs, quite literally his favorite place to be, while your hands gripped his head as he pumped his fingers in and out of you. His other hand cupped and massaged your breast with a mix of urgency and affection.

“Kylian, fuck!” you screamed, your toes curling as his tongue worked with relentless speed, flicking and teasing you in a way that made your mind blur with pleasure.

The sounds of his slurping filled the room, shameless and loud, but neither of you cared. His occasional moans vibrated through your body, reminding you that you were indeed still on a bed and not floating on some euphoric cloud. Not that you minded. This euphoria was exactly where you wanted to stay for as long as possible.

Throwing your head back, you let out a whiny moan as his tongue explored your most private parts, licking, teasing, and driving you wild. Wet, hot, and pink — just the way he loved it. His nose pressed roughly against your clit as his fingers curled inside you, reaching those spots that made your toes curl even tighter.

The sounds spilling from your lips were raw and unholy, but you couldn’t find an ounce of shame in yourself, and neither could he. In fact, he seemed to thrive on it. His hand moved down from your breast to part your throbbing folds, exposing your sensitive clit even more to his skilled, relentless tongue. You wanted to ask him if anyone had ever told him how magical his tongue was, but the words refused to form. Your mouth was far too busy letting out gasps and cries.

“Please,” you managed to mutter, your voice strained, your eyes rolling back as the pleasure surged through you.

For Kylian, it wasn’t just the taste of you that drove him — it was the sounds you made. The way you screamed his name, whimpered in desperation, and begged for release drove him wild. He lived for it. He craved those sounds just as much as he craved the taste of you. Each moan and breathless gasp only pushed him to dive deeper, his tongue working more feverishly against you, wanting to make you shatter beneath him.

He curled his fingers inside you, pressing against that spot that made your entire body tremble. His tongue stayed focused on your swollen clit, flicking in perfect rhythm, and you could feel the familiar tension building, your body ready to unravel.

“I’m so close,” you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.

“Hold on just a little longer,” Kylian mumbled against you, the words muffled but clear, the vibrations from his voice only intensifying the pleasure. “I need you to hold on for me.” He wasn’t ready to let go yet. He wanted to savor every second of this, knowing it might be a while before he could taste you again.

“I can’t, Kylian… I need to cum,” you whimpered, your voice desperate, your body on the edge of release.

Finally, he relented, his voice soft yet commanding. “Let go, beautiful. Come for me.”

That was all it took. His words, combined with the pace of his fingers and tongue, sent you tumbling over the edge, and your body obeyed. Your back arched off the bed, his name tearing from your throat as your body shook with release. Your hands gripped the headboard, desperate for something to hold on to as he licked you through your orgasm, not missing a drop of your pleasure.

Gasping for air, you collapsed back onto the bed, your body feeling light and deliciously weak. Kylian, ever the greedy lover, drank in every last bit of your release like it was his favorite drink — because to him, it was.

You coughed lightly, your throat overworked from all the screaming and grunting. You hadn’t even noticed when Kylian laid next to you, his head propped on his hand as he admired your flushed, blissed-out face.

As you lay there, your heart still racing from the intensity of the moment, you felt a mix of bliss and vulnerability wash over you.

Kylian shifted to rest his head on your chest, listening to the rapid beat of your heart. “Can you kiss me now?” you asked, breaking the comfortable silence that enveloped you.

He lifted his head, a faint smile forming on his lips that made your stomach flutter. “Are you sure you’re ready for that?” he teased, his eyes sparkling with mischief.

You rolled your eyes, half-amused and half-exasperated. “I just had the best orgasm of my life, and you’re worried about a kiss?” His laughter filled the room, warm and infectious.

“You make a fair point.” He leaned down, pressing his lips against yours, and the kiss felt electric. The taste of you lingered, mingling with the sweetness of the moment. As the kiss deepened, you felt the world fade away, leaving just the two of you in your little bubble of intimacy.

Kylian pulled back slightly, searching your eyes. “You know, moments like these make all the chaos worthwhile,” he said softly. You nodded, a smile spreading across your face.

“Absolutely. But you do realize you’re lucky I’m still coherent enough to appreciate this moment, right?” Kylian chuckled, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. “I’ll take my victories where I can get them.” There was a pause, and you could see a flicker of something serious in his eyes.

“You’re amazing, you know that?” he said, his voice sincere. “I’m really grateful for you.” The weight of his words settled in the space between you. You had grown so accustomed to the playfulness, the light teasing, that this sudden shift felt scary.

“Kylian,” you began, feeling a swell of emotions. “I—” Before you could finish your sentence, Kylian’s phone buzzed on the nightstand, interrupting the moment. You both sighed in unison, a knowing look passing between you.

“Always a distraction,” he muttered, reaching for his phone, but you could see the hint of annoyance in his eyes.

“It’s the team,” He said, you watching as he glanced at the screen.

“Duty calls, huh?” you said with a teasing smile, trying to keep the mood light.

“Unfortunately,” he said, giving you an apologetic look. “But don’t worry, I won’t let it take me away from you for long.” He leaned in and gave you another quick kiss before reluctantly sitting up and pulling away.

You watched as he answered the call, his demeanor shifting to the focused, determined athlete you knew he could be.

As he spoke on the phone, you leaned back against the pillows, observing him with a mixture of admiration and affection. The way he transformed from the playful lover to the focused athlete was mesmerizing. It was like watching a switch flip — he was all business now, his voice steady and professional.

He paused to glance back at you, and for a moment, he seemed lost in thought, as if he were trying to gauge your mood. You flashed him a playful smile to remind him you were still there, even if his mind was somewhere else entirely.

“I’ll be done in a minute,” he said, his tone lighter now, as if sensing your amusement.

You shrugged. “Take your time. I’ll just be here, contemplating my life choices.” He chuckled, clearly fighting off a grin.

“I don’t think you need to contemplate anything. You’re the one keeping me grounded.”

“Grounded?” you teased. “I thought I was just a pleasant distraction.”

“You are, but a necessary one,” he replied, winking before returning to his conversation.

When he finally hung up, he flopped back onto the bed beside you, the tension of the call still visible in his shoulders. “Well, that was refreshing,” he said sarcastically.

You laughed, nudging him playfully. “Next time, try not to sound so enthusiastic.”

“It’s a tough life, okay?” he replied, a cheeky smile spreading across his face.

“You know,” you began, feeling a warmth spread through you as you spoke, “for someone who just dealt with a chaotic work call, you look remarkably unscathed.”

He laughed softly, glancing over at you with a playful smirk. “Well, I do have my charm to rely on.” You rolled your eyes, but there was no hiding your smile.

“Charm? Is that what we’re calling it? More like a mix of sheer talent and good looks.”

“Don’t forget charisma,” he chimed in.

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Oh, please. With that kind of self-promotion, you could start your own fan club.”

“You think I’m not already the president of my own fan club?” He grinned, clearly enjoying the banter.

“You’re my only member, and I’m the only one who attends the meetings.”

“Sounds like a party,” you teased, nudging him again.

As laughter faded into a comfortable silence, Kylian turned serious, his expression softening as he gazed at you.

“Stay tonight.” his voice broke the silence, the words hanging in the air between you like an unspoken promise. A warmth spread through your chest at his invitation. It was no secret that he wanted you to spend the night with him every time you two found yourselves tangled in each other's arms; he just didn’t say it outright all the time. But the way he hesitated, how he seemed to hold back from asking you to stay during those other moments, was painfully obvious.

“I have to pack,” you replied, feeling the disappointment settle in both your hearts.

You did spend the night at his place sometimes. Those cozy, late-night moments where everything felt perfect. But other times, you pulled away, creating space to keep things from becoming too routine. You were cautious, wary of the feelings that might arise if you blurred the lines completely. Tonight, you felt the urge to retreat, to maintain that sense of independence. But also, you really had to pack.

Kylian nodded, trying to mask his disappointment with a soft “Okay.” His tone was casual, but you could see right through him; he was the worst liar when it came to you.

You and Kylian had met a little over a year ago at a mutual friend’s birthday party. Both of you single, bold, and carefree, it felt like fate had tossed you together for one wild night of fun. That night had sparked a connection that neither of you expected, leading to a heated encounter that was meant to be a one-off. But universe, as it often does, had other plans.

You both bumped into each other again at an event weeks later, and just like that, you found yourselves leaving together, the chemistry undeniable. After that, you met up again — hooking up once more, and then again. It quickly became a whirlwind of intimate moments, and before you knew it, you were trapped in a confusing, exhilarating, and somewhat unhealthy situation.

Neither of you had been looking for anything serious. The idea of adding the complexities of a relationship, emotional entanglements and responsibilities, was daunting. A casual arrangement, marked by good sex whenever the mood struck, was enough for both of you.

You both understood how these things worked. Friends with benefits could turn into a mess of emotions if you weren’t careful. So, from the very start, you had made it a point to set rules. You were both adept at laying down those guidelines, but when it came to following them? That was another story entirely.

The first rule was simple: never spend the night at each other’s places. The routine was supposed to be straightforward: come over, fuck, leave. That worked for the first two months. But then came that one night at Kylian’s house, just after you’d finished with each other.

It was around 1 AM, and the weather decided to show its worst side with a downpour so fierce, it made the idea of driving home seem ridiculous.

“Stay here,” he insisted, not wanting you to risk the storm. You hesitated at first, knowing it was against the rules, but the thought of driving through that weather wasn’t appealing either. He even offered you the guest bedroom, or suggested he sleep there and let you take his bed, but somehow that felt even weirder than just sharing the bed. So, you stayed. That was the night you crossed the first line. After that, spending the night became more frequent. Kylian was always coming up with excuses for you to stay over.

“The wind is crazy tonight.”

“I heard on the radio that driving after 10 PM isn’t safe.”

“My bed is way more comfortable than yours.”

Some excuses were ridiculous, but sometimes, you caved. Other times, you resisted, determined not to let the sleepovers become routine.

The next rule? Never cancel plans for each other. You both agreed that altering your daily lives just to meet up would mean things were getting too serious. A casual fling didn’t need that kind of effort. But Kylian broke that rule after just two weeks, without you even knowing.

He canceled a dinner with friends, just because a single text from you asking if he was free to hang out was enough to make him ditch his plans. You found out the next time he did it, when he skipped playing paddle with his trainer because a night with you seemed more appealing. You were angry, angry that he broke the rule, but he shut you up with a kiss that made the argument melt away.

After one of your usual, passionate sessions, you told him how canceling plans for each other wasn’t good for what you had. He promised he wouldn’t do it again. And, unsurprisingly, he didn’t keep that promise. To be fair, you didn’t either. You found yourself rescheduling a meeting for work, or canceling a shopping day with friends just to be with him. You both bent the rule when it suited you.

Then there was the no-gifts rule. It seemed harmless enough. No exchanging gifts. Too personal, too intimate. But that rule was thrown out the window on your birthday. Kylian surprised you with a bouquet of your favorite flowers and a stunning necklace. You wanted to be mad, to call him out for breaking the rule, but how could you? He made you so happy, and the thoughtfulness behind his gift warmed your heart more than you cared to admit. So, instead of scolding him, you simply said, “Thank you,” and asked him not to do it again.

But then you broke that rule too. When his birthday came around, you couldn’t resist getting him something. You reasoned with yourself — it was just a birthday, an exception to the rule. But then, Kylian took it further. He came to your house one evening with a piece of artwork he’d purchased, saying, “It reminded me of you.”

That felt too much, too intimate. You argued, trying to convince him to take it back, but after a long discussion, you agreed to keep it — on the condition that he wouldn’t buy you anything like that again. He promised, but deep down, you both knew promises in this arrangement were flimsy at best.

But the most important rule, the one that should have been unbreakable, was not to fall in love. It was the first thing you both made clear: no strings attached meant no feelings. If either of you started to develop emotions beyond the physical, whatever you had would end immediately.

It seemed obvious at the time, the easiest rule to follow. Yet, strangely, it was the one rule you both avoided talking about. You’d discussed all the others, broke them, and argued over them, but the rule about love? That was taboo. Neither of you brought it up. Not once. And that silence was starting to scare you. Because the reason you didn’t talk about it was becoming more obvious. And that realization was growing more terrifying by the day.

You both lay in bed, the silence heavy with the weight of the upcoming separation. Neither of you wanted to move, wishing you could freeze time and stay in that warm, tangled cocoon of sheets. But reality beckoned. You had to leave; your business trip was looming, and tonight was your way of saying a temporary goodbye before you inevitably found yourselves back in the same bed the moment you returned.

Reluctantly, you got up, ignoring the loud, deep sigh that escaped Kylian’s lips. He didn’t say anything, but his frustration was palpable. You gathered your things, slipping into your clothes while he remained on the bed, motionless, watching you with a silent longing.

“You still don’t know when you’ll be back?” he asked, his voice breaking the silence as you put on your shoes.

You shrugged, not meeting his gaze. “I’m not sure. I’ll be back once all the new projects are presented to the partners. Could be a week. Maybe two.”

“Or more,” he added, his tone flat, eyes cast down. He wasn’t looking at you, but the unspoken tension between you was clear.

You sighed, trying to keep your voice light but failing. “I don’t know, Kylian. I’d rather stay too, but it’s work. I have to go. It’s not like I have a choice.” You walked over to the bed, standing beside him.

Kylian understood more than most about having a demanding schedule. He knew that you had to leave, that your career required it. But that didn’t make it any easier. It still bothered him — this unknown stretch of time without seeing you. The part that stung the most? He wasn’t allowed to be upset. He wasn’t your boyfriend. He wasn’t even your friend. He was just the guy you were sleeping with. You didn’t owe him anything. No explanations, no reassurances, no promises. And that bitter realization twisted in his chest, an uncomfortable weight he had to carry in silence.

“I’ll be very busy in the coming days, so…” You trailed off, the familiar excuse slipping from your lips, and Kylian knew exactly what was happening. You always did this when one of you had to travel — distancing yourself, cutting down on communication. He never fully understood why. But, as always, he went along with it, knowing he didn’t have the right to object.

“Sure. Busy,” he replied, his voice flat, resigned. You nodded, a silent understanding passing between you, both knowing there was nothing more to say.

“Thanks for tonight. You always give me the best goodbye gifts,” you teased, trying to lighten the mood. You leaned down, giving him a quick peck on the lips before turning away.

Kylian watched you leave, the sound of the door clicking shut behind you echoing in his mind. You never looked back. You never did.

For the past year, he had felt an undeniable, deep connection with you. Something special, something he couldn’t quite put into words. And with every passing moment, that connection only grew stronger, wrapping around him like invisible chains, pulling him deeper into feelings he had promised himself he’d never have.

Kylian knew it was wrong. He knew he wasn’t supposed to feel like this, wasn’t supposed to let his emotions blur the lines of your arrangement. But he couldn’t stop. He couldn’t bring himself to walk away, even though he knew that’s what he should do.

The truth was, he liked spending time with you — far more than he liked spending time with anyone else. With you, he could be himself, completely. He didn’t have to put on the mask he wore for the world. He could be his silly, carefree self, making jokes and laughing without worrying about expectations. You listened to him, truly listened. You were compassionate, attentive, and never judged him. You offered him a kind of support that he hadn’t realized he needed until it was too late. He liked you. More than he should. And that terrified him.

It didn’t take long for Kylian to realize that his feelings for you went far beyond casual. When he first started sleeping with you, his intentions were simple: have fun, let off some steam, enjoy the company of someone as lovely and attractive as you. But the more he got to know you as a person, the more he craved your presence. It wasn’t just about the sex anymore, even though the sex was incredible. Mind-blowing, even. But sometimes, all he wanted was to sit with you, have a conversation, and just… be. He liked being around you. And that was the problem.

He wasn’t supposed to want more than just physical connection. You weren’t meant to be his confidante, his comfort, his… something more. But the rules were clear. He wasn’t allowed to spend time with you unless one of you was horny. So, he made sure to milk every moment he could, stretching out the time you spent together. He clung to the small, fleeting moments between, lingering in bed just a little longer, turning every touch, every laugh into something he could carry with him when you weren’t around.

And every time you left, he felt the weight of what he wasn’t allowed to have settle deeper in his chest.

The day had been impossibly long, overwhelming, and exhausting. Your flight was a nightmare — an older man seated behind you had snored the entire time, depriving you of any chance to rest. Once you landed, there was no time to recover; you had to change quickly and head straight to a series of meetings. With the barely-there sleep you had gotten the night before, combined with the stress of work, the day felt like one continuous obstacle.

The meeting dragged on for almost three hours, filled with repetitive questions that forced you to repeat yourself over and over. By the time it was over, all you wanted was to collapse into bed. But then your colleague asked for help with some documents, and you couldn’t bring yourself to say no. You felt bad, knowing no one else could assist her. So, despite your exhaustion, you pushed through.

Finally, after what felt like an endless day, you made it to your hotel room. The idea of slipping into a warm, bubbly bath was the only thing keeping you from falling apart. Once you submerged yourself in the soothing water, the tension in your muscles slowly began to fade. The pounding headache that had followed you throughout the day finally started to dissipate.

It was in moments like this, quiet, peaceful moments, when you craved Kylian’s presence the most. He had a way of making everything better, almost like a superpower. From the moment you met him, there had been something magnetic about his charisma. One night stands weren’t usually your thing, but fresh off a breakup and in high spirits at that party, you found yourself unable to resist his charm and that disarming, handsome smile.

At first, it was just sex. Fun, uncomplicated, no strings attached. But as the weeks went by, you discovered there was so much more to Kylian than just his natural charisma or his beautiful face. As he got comfortable with you, he began to show his true self — funny, silly, adorable, loud, but in all the best ways. He was someone you wanted to be around all the time. He loved making people laugh, especially you, and his energy was infectious. For all his fame and allure, Kylian was surprisingly simple and humble. A young man with a great sense of humor and an even bigger heart.

Being around him felt effortless. Too effortless. And that was where the danger lay. You liked him more than you should. You liked him more than you were willing to admit, even to yourself. He was far more than a fling to you. You couldn’t help but think about him in moments like this, alone in a quiet hotel room, wishing you were resting on his firm chest, his fingers tracing soft patterns on your forearm like he always did. But those were thoughts you would never dare to share with him.

The fear of commitment was tricky. It often masked itself as self-preservation, convincing you that it was the rational thing to do, the safest option to avoid heartache. But deep down, you knew it was an insecurity, a fear that you would drive Kylian away if you got too close.

Rationally, you knew he wouldn’t hurt you, at least not intentionally. But the thought of falling for him, of starting an official relationship, only for him to realize it was a mistake, that he didn’t have time for you, or worse, that he couldn’t love you enough, was terrifying.

So, you did what you thought was necessary. You distanced yourself. You limited the time you spent with him, avoiding the temptation to stay over at his house too often. You tried not to contact him when either of you were away. You set boundaries for yourself, hoping they would protect you from falling deeper into the trap.

But leaving him? That was something you couldn’t do. No matter how unhealthy the situation became, no matter how much it hurt to be stuck in this emotional limbo, you couldn’t bear the thought of Kylian not being a part of your life. So, you settled for what you had. You convinced yourself it was enough, even though deep down, it wasn’t.

And that made you angry. Furious, even. How had you let this happen? What had started as a simple arrangement, had spiraled into something messy, confusing, and undefined. You didn’t even know what to call this… relationship. If you could even call it that.

But more than anything, you were mad at yourself. For wanting more. For feeling something you promised yourself you’d never feel.

The next few days passed in a blur of normalcy, albeit overwhelmed by work. Every time the pressure mounted, stress levels shooting through the roof, it became increasingly tempting to pick up the phone and call Kylian. Not for the usual reasons, where one of you would call the other when traveling to satisfy more physical needs, but simply to hear his voice. To rant about your day, to complain, to let it all out. To have Kylian on the other end, soothing you, telling you that everything would be okay.

The temptation grew harder to resist, but you held out. You had to. This was the boundary you had set for yourself, the one thing that kept you in control.

Until you couldn’t anymore.

It was a Thursday — possibly the worst Thursday in the history of Thursdays. The day began disastrously when you somehow managed to turn off your alarm in your sleep, making you thirty minutes late for your breakfast meeting. And, of course, there was no time to actually have breakfast once you arrived, forcing you to move straight into business on an empty stomach.

You told yourself you’d wait for lunch to eat, but lunch never came. The meeting that was supposed to happen the next day was moved to today, meaning no time for food once again.

Then came the race back to the office, where you had to prepare for a presentation on your latest project. Things seemed to calm down for a moment, just long enough for you to breathe, until someone in the foyer spilled a piping hot cup of coffee all over you. The scalding liquid nearly burned your collarbone and left an awful stain on your white shirt.

With no change of clothes and the presentation about to begin, you had no choice but to stand in front of everyone in a half-white, half-brown shirt, your stomach growling, your mind frazzled, and your nerves hanging by a thread. The awkward stares from your audience only made things worse, and by the end of the day, you felt utterly defeated.

By the time you returned to your hotel room, you had finally eaten something, but the headache and stress still vibrated through every inch of your body.

It was all too much. You needed to let it all out.

No matter how risky or wrong it felt, you needed to call Kylian.

With shaky hands, you dialed his number, one you had memorized long ago from how many times you typed it, only to delete it before pressing "call." This time, though, you pressed it.

Your heart raced as the phone rang, your breath catching in your throat. You had spoken to Kylian over the phone countless times, but this felt different. This time, you weren’t calling for a casual chat or for some playful teasing. You were calling because you needed him. You needed to hear his voice.

And that terrified you.

You stared at the phone screen as it rang, trying to come up with a good excuse for why you were calling him. The line connected, and before you could figure out what to say, Kylian picked up.

“Hello?” His voice was groggy, thick with sleep, sounding both confused and concerned. You realized immediately that you had woken him up.

“I’m sorry, Kylian. Were you sleeping?” You glanced at the clock and cringed. It was 2 AM where he was. How had you not noticed that before?

“It’s fine. Really.” His voice softened, brushing away the inconvenience. “Are you okay?” There was a trace of worry now, like he could sense something was off.

You hesitated, feeling guilty for disturbing him. “Wait… how did my call even go through? Don’t you usually put your phone on Do Not Disturb when you sleep?” You remembered him telling you that the first night you stayed over at his place — he always put his phone on DND to ensure his body got the rest it needed.

There was a brief silence on the other end before he spoke. “I have a few contacts that still get through. My parents, my brother, my team, and… well, you. Just in case.” Your breath caught in your throat at his admission.

You wanted to ask why, to dig into why he thought of you as someone important enough to bypass his Do Not Disturb settings. But this wasn’t the time. The conversation was already teetering on the edge of being too vulnerable.

Kylian broke the silence again, his tone laced with concern. “Are you going to answer me? Are you okay?” You blinked, unsure of how to respond.

You had wanted to rant about your day, but now, waking him up like this made you feel selfish.

“Are you sure I shouldn’t call you back tomorrow? You need your sleep. Don’t you have training tomorrow?” You meant it, genuinely feeling guilty for disturbing him.

“Y/N,” he said firmly, but gently. “I don’t care about that. I care about you. Are you okay or not?”

His words hit you like a wave, and suddenly, you were fighting back tears. The tenderness in his voice, the way he prioritized you over his own needs, it tugged at something deep inside you. He was always like this, but hearing it now, in the middle of the night, made you want to cry. It also made you love him more.

No, you weren’t okay. You missed him. You wanted him with you. But you couldn’t say that. So, instead, you started telling him about your day, pouring out all the stress and frustration that had built up since the moment you’d landed.

You told him everything — about how overwhelming the trip had been, how tired you were, how bad today had gone. You described every detail of your nightmare of a Thursday, feeling a mixture of relief and exhaustion as you talked.

Through it all, Kylian listened patiently. He didn’t interrupt, didn’t rush you. He just hummed softly in response, encouraging you to keep going, making you feel heard in a way no one else could.

When you finally finished, you let out a deep breath, feeling lighter. Somehow, just telling him about your day made everything feel a little less terrible.

“I’m so proud of you,” Kylian said quietly, his voice sincere and full of admiration. The way he said it made your chest tighten with emotion.

“You’re handling so much, and you’re doing it with so much strength. I don’t know how you do it, Y/N.” His words brought tears to your eyes again, and for a moment, it felt like he was right there with you, whispering those words in your ear instead of through a phone.

You wiped at your eyes, overwhelmed by the genuine affection in his voice.

Without thinking, you let the words slip out. “I miss you, Kylian.”

There it was. Raw and unfiltered.

You hadn’t meant to say it, but now that you had, there was no taking it back.

Normally, you would have regretted being so vulnerable with him, afraid it would shift things between you. But this time, there was no regret. Just truth. Kylian’s voice softened even more, dripping with affection.

“Y/N, I miss you too, so much. I can’t wait for you to come back.” His confession hung in the air between you, adding an extra weight to the conversation. But despite the heaviness, his words brought a smile to your face, the kind of smile only he could bring out of you.

“Thank you for listening to my rant. And I’m sorry for waking you up,” you apologized, feeling guilty once more for disrupting his night.

“Don’t apologize. I’d rather talk to you than sleep. You know you can call me anytime.” His words made your heart swell, but the exhaustion from the day was catching up with you now.

“I think it’s time for me to get some sleep,” you said, stifling a yawn.

“Sweet dreams, beautiful,” he replied, the smile in his voice unmistakable.

“Goodnight,” you whispered before hanging up, sinking back onto the mattress.

As you lay there, you felt lighter, like the world had been lifted off your shoulders just from talking to him. But as the quiet settled in, a different kind of pressure began to creep in. What did that conversation mean for the two of you? Was it normal to call your fuck buddy in the middle of the night from another country, just to rant about your day? And for him to be so sweet, so gentle, so… perfect about it?

Probably not. And that scared you.

But despite the fear, one thing was clear — you didn’t regret it. Not even for a second.

Kylian knew when you were coming back. You’d texted him the day before your flight, and from the moment he read that message, he was over the moon. The two weeks without you had been anything but fun. In fact, every time you left, it felt like you took a piece of sunshine with you. To him, you were that — his sunshine. Someone who could brighten even the darkest days. And now, his sunshine was finally coming back.

A few hours after you landed, he sent you a text inviting you over for dinner at his place if you weren’t too tired. You hesitated at first, mostly because he told you it would be a normal, simple dinner — no sexual innuendo. That was the scariest part. He wasn’t just inviting you over for a casual night; this felt different. He was asking you on a date. Your first real date with Kylian.

You sat with your phone for a long moment, unsure. This wasn’t part of the arrangement, wasn’t part of the rules you’d set up for yourselves. But something deep inside you told you not to let fear ruin this moment. So, after a while, you agreed.

When you arrived, he opened the door with a tablecloth casually thrown over his left shoulder.

“Don’t tell me you cooked?” you said after hugging him, eyes wide with disbelief.

He let out a laugh, flashing you that charming grin. “Well, I tried.” There was a mix of pride and nervousness in his voice, as if he wasn’t quite sure whether to brag or apologize.

He led you into the dining room, where the table was set for two. The fork and knife were oddly placed, and you quickly realized he had been the one to set the table.

With a chuckle, you switched the positions of the knife and fork. “You know not everyone’s left-handed, right?” you teased as he walked back in with the meal.

He blinked, then giggled, scratching the back of his head. “Oh, right. Sorry about that.”

You both sat down, the dish looking delicious, but there was a part of you that was still unsure. Kylian noticed you eyeing the plate cautiously.

“Aren’t you hungry?” he asked, frowning when he saw you weren’t making a move to eat.

You bit your lip, feeling guilty for what you were about to say. “Um… Kylian, I really appreciate that you cooked, but… are you sure this won’t give me food poisoning?” You winced, giving him a sheepish look.

He gasped dramatically, placing a hand over his chest. “How dare you! Are you saying I’m not a good cook?” He pretended to be offended, his wide eyes full of playful shock.

You couldn’t hold back a laugh, shaking your head.

Kylian chuckled, raising his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay. I didn’t cook it.” He grinned sheepishly as you raised a brow in confusion.

“Wait, what?”

“I set the table and everything,” he admitted, “but I didn’t want to be the one responsible for poisoning you, so… I had it delivered.”

You let out a sigh of relief, giggling. Kylian was talented in many things, but you knew that the kitchen was definitely not one of them.

As you both started eating, Kylian filled you in on what he’d been up to while you were away, already knowing the details of your trip from that strange, middle of the night phone call a few days ago. He was animated as he spoke, catching you up on football news, funny moments with his teammates, and little updates from his life.

But even as you laughed and bantered back and forth, you couldn’t shake the feeling that this dinner was different. It wasn’t just two friends with benefits catching up. It was more. And that realization, while thrilling, also scared you.

“Y/N, I’ve been meaning to talk to you,” Kylian said suddenly, his voice tinged with an uncharacteristic nervousness. He was playing with the tablecloth, twisting it between his fingers as if trying to distract himself.

The wine you’d been sipping suddenly tasted dull. His words made you feel uneasy, and a knot of tension began forming in your stomach.

He pushed his chair back and moved closer, sitting right next to you. The shift in proximity sent a shiver down your spine. The distance that had been between you while you sat across from each other had felt safe. But now, with his body so close, the air between you felt charged, intimate. No matter how many times you had been physical with Kylian, these moments, the ones that went beyond the physical, always left you feeling raw and vulnerable.

He reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face, his fingers lingering.

“I’ve been thinking a lot about us,” he began, his voice softer now, more emotional. “Especially after our phone call the other night.”

Your pulse quickened. That call had crossed a line — one you had been careful not to approach for so long. But strangely, you hadn’t regretted it.

“Y/N, being around you…” He paused, his eyes searching yours. “It just feels right. You make everything feel… right. And I know you feel the same.”

He wasn’t wrong. Being with Kylian felt natural, like you both just fit. There was an ease, a connection that made sense, even if you’d spent so much time trying to ignore it. You knew it, and he knew it too. The problem wasn’t the way you felt about him — it was the fear of letting those feelings lead you somewhere you couldn’t control.

“We’re not the best at communicating, at least not with words,” he continued, his fingers gently twisting a lock of your hair around them. “We’ve both bottled up so much, avoided saying things we should’ve said. But there are some things that don’t need words. Some things you just feel.”

His point was valid, but that didn’t make it any less nerve-wracking.

“I can feel how much you love being with me. It’s not just about the physical connection. There’s something more between us, and pretending like it isn’t there… it’s been stupid. For both of us.” He exhaled deeply, his voice a little steadier now.

“I want to be with you, Y/N. And not just for sex. Don’t get me wrong, the chemistry we have is… incredible. But this? Us? It’s so much more than that.”

Your chest tightened, and you let out a quiet sigh, unsure how to respond. You’d spent so long keeping your feelings at bay, locking them away in a corner of your heart where they couldn’t hurt you. But now, Kylian was bringing them into the light, forcing you to confront everything you had tried so hard to avoid.

“I know you’re scared,” he said, his voice gentle but firm, his eyes holding yours.

That was the sentence that made you look at him, really look at him. You saw the vulnerability in his eyes, the reflection of your own fears mirrored back at you.

“I know you’re holding yourself back. And you’re right. If we do this for real, it could go wrong. It could get messy, complicated. We might end up in a situation that neither of us can fix.” He was saying everything you’d been afraid to admit, everything you had kept hidden.

“But none of those fears outweigh the fact that I want to call you my girlfriend.”

There it was. The label. The thing that terrified you more than anything else.

Labels were strict, limiting, confining. They carried expectations, and expectations could lead to disappointment. Yet somehow, when Kylian said it, when he looked at you with such sincerity, the idea of being in a committed relationship seemed a little less terrifying.

He wasn’t finished. “I want more with you. I want you to stay over without me having to come up with stupid excuses. I want to buy you gifts just to see you smile. I want to cancel plans because I’d rather be with you than with anyone else. I want to plan my life knowing you’ll be a part of it.” His voice was filled with emotion, raw and honest. “And I want to love you. Not just for your body, but for everything that makes you, you.”

His confession hung in the air, heavy with the weight of everything it carried. It was a tough moment for you. Every fear, every doubt you had wrestled with for so long was still there, whispering in the back of your mind. But somehow, Kylian made it all seem… easier. His words didn’t make the fears disappear, but they offered a sense of hope you hadn’t expected.

You reached up, cupping his cheek, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your palm. He leaned into your touch, closing his eyes briefly, as if savoring the connection.

“You’re right,” you said softly, your voice trembling slightly. “I am scared. I’ve been terrified this whole time. But… if there’s anyone I want to face my fears with, it’s you.”

Your words brought a huge smile to his face, a smile so genuine it made your heart swell.

He took your hand in his, lifting it to his lips and pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles before pulling you into his chest. You rested your head against him, feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath your ear.

His heartbeat was fast, matching the rhythm of your own. The irony wasn’t lost on you — you, the one who had insisted on following all the rules, were the one who had broken the most important one. And so had he. You were both rule-breakers now.

But for the first time in a long time, you didn’t care.

[yanderenightmare]

you didn't pay Toji his bounty, so now he's coming to collect, and BOY- when he sees YOU and how rich you live all expensive in your mansion and pretty clothes, you can take a wild guess how he's gonna have you pay

Toji Fushiguro

♡ TW: NSFW, noncon, derogatory nicknames, light bondage, spanking, implied breaking and entering

♡ fem reader

Rope eats into your flesh, keeping your legs shut, rendering you unable to do much of anything but hop about like a bunny if you were to try it. Looped tight around each plush thigh right in the crease of your buttcheek, squishing into the fat of your inner thighs to show your kitty in all its wet and swollen glory.

You whine while he pets the folds, simpering condescendingly at you, “Don’t cry, princess- I’m gonna fuck you soon, don’t you worry your pretty little tiara about that…”

You ball your fists as his fingers brutishly rub over your clit, biting your palms with your manicured nails where your wrists are bound together in a neat knot atop your back.

“Just gonna have some fun with you first...”

Toes curled in the plush powder-pink carpet below; you’re bent over the back of your white-leather sofa chair – hips pressed firmly against the spine for every hit his palm makes against your plump tush – branding one cheek before changing and repeating, making the perfect skin welt with his handprint. 

You yelp the first few times, but then you cry – not used to such cruelty, always having been kept all soft and safe – all previous boyfriends vanilla mommy’s boys, not like this beast.

Your knees grew weak beneath you, soon trembling. But he spared you no sympathy despite it – only cooing at you through a wicked grin, clearly mocking you while rubbing soothing circles into the sore flesh with greedy fingers digging into the dough.

You whine when the hand reaches between your thighs again, running over the wet and swollen folds before splitting them – sliding to your hole, then sending two fat digits right inside it. He stations the other hand on the small of your back to keep you still when he brutally starts pumping the tightness.

“Shit- so tight and wet from that-” He jeers, then slaps the soft mound. “You rich sluts are such freaks, ain’t ya-”

The sound of a belt unbuckling comes next, and then the heavy drop of his pants hits the carpet.

You shuffle, but you’re not going anywhere – and if you somehow could, you wouldn’t get very far.

“This is it, princess- the moment you’ve been waiting for,” He groans, lifting the fat of your ass cheek in one hand while pointing his round cockhead up to your twitchy coin-sized hole. 

Clicking his tongue at the pretty sight, he slid his length between your pussylips first – just to tease – fucking the little triangle between your thighs until he was properly bathed in your velvety slick.

You wiggle, but it doesn’t do you anything other than make him lick the teeth of his smile, nudging his tip into your taunt welcome.

Your fingers reach before curling into a pair of tremoring fists, shaking your head in dread at the intrusion, stomach twisting while whimpers escaped you – taking every thick inch of meat one slow second at a time. “Yea~” He laughs breathily, grinning at the sight of you grating your thighs. It was clear you weren’t used to the mass. “I bet that hurts- you’re tight like a fuckin’ virgin-”

He buries his hands in the cake of your ass for purchase, gripping it tight with a hiss while leaning over you – pushing himself as tight and deep as possible – feeling you throttle him while you whine at the stretch – bratty mouth stuffed with your own silk panties. 

You’re breathless once he bottoms out. No air and no sounds, just eyes squeezed tightly shut, seeing white spots – back tense and arched like a cat before dropping into a pretty slope, releasing a filthy wet mewl into your gag – standing on your tippy-toes with thighs shaking.

But the sting is nothing compared to when he starts thrusting – lolling his hips back slowly, letting you feel every ridge and vein drag along your walls, only to slam right back in – the force making the armchair you’re resting on jump forward. 

Kneading your ass, he uses the fat in his grip to pull you back on him – his hips slapping into you from behind – making you choke on it.

You should have fucking paid him – you think in regret once he starts the rhythm, quick and deep. Making you pant out like a dumb little bitch in heat, yelping every time it fucks just a little deeper, hitting someplace new and tender – discovering new places you never even knew existed before now, stimulating every little nerve begging for the attention.

He tangles a fist in your hair, lifting you up until your head rests on his shoulder – one sturdy hand balancing you by the hip whilst the other holds you up by the neck – making your tits strut forward, jumping as he continues to jut up into you.

“Just like that, ye? Fuckin’ stingy bitch-” He grunts in your ear. “Right inside that tight rich twat of yours.” 

He landed another slap to the sore flesh of your rear, making you tighten up even more – clenching so tight he had to sink his teeth into your shoulder to keep from nutting too soon. You smelled sweetly spicy – so expensive it made his eyes roll beneath his lids – spiking his movement even more, rutting against you.

You scream, the silky lace of your underwear gone completely wet in your mouth now, just a soggy ball you chewed between grit teeth – trying to will away the knot winding up so tight in your gut, needing release.

Your efforts bore no fruits – soon, something pulled you like a rubberband and snapped just the same, making you clench tight on the fatness stuffing you full, shaking as the feeling seized you.

“Fuck- look at yah- takin’ my cock like a proper little fuck-toy, hm? Cummin’ like a whore- not so prim and proper now, are yah?”

♡ FUSHIGURO TOJI masterlist ♡ JUJUTSU KAISEN masterlist

[wizardinggirl]

The Snake & The Raven

Summary: It’s been 2 years since Severus confessed his sin to you, his deepest, darkest secret. After the initial shock and betrayal, you have forgiven him and now the two of you have gotten together. (With much approval from the headmaster. You were beginning to think this was his plan all along.)

Warnings: none

Go to the beginning here -> Prologue (1/2)

Last: Part 3

Part 4: Tea Time

Word Count: 2.8k

2 years later…

Severus had changed. It took him a long time to heal, and it took him far longer to forgive himself than it took you. You don’t think he will ever fully forgive himself. He felt responsible for Lily’s death and that her son was now an orphan in an awful muggle home. He would have been taken into the care of Sirius Black, but you didn’t want to think about him and what he’d done.

You had decided to stay on as a teacher at Hogwarts after the first few months when the Ministry asked when you would be returning. Of course you loved your job as an Auror and it had been hard work to get there, but being here to mold these witches’ and wizards’ minds was far more rewarding. Additionally, it was a preventative measure. If you were able to be a good influence to some potential future Dark Wizards/Death Eaters, then it was worth it.

“Marrow, fix your stance or Edward’s is going to knock you off your feet. We’ve talked about this.” You twirled your wand in your hand as you watched two of your students duel, ready to intervene if needed. You’d seen a lot in your two years at Hogwarts, and learned the hard way that when the young upstarts dueled that you needed to be ready for anything. The other students cheered and you turned the other cheek at the few that had bets going. It was a hard class, more work than leisure, so you let them have fun in it when they could. You wanted them to still enjoy the class, after all.

“Whoa!” Marrow went flying off the dueling table.

“Arresto Momentum!” You cast on your student, it slowed her down enough to where she was placed on the ground rather than slamming into it.

“Thank you, Professor.” The class laughed and others cheered as Edwards strutted around the table, his fists pumping in the air with victory.

“Alright, Edwards. Off the table, one point to Gryffindor.” There was more cheering from the members of the respective house and you smiled. You decided that whenever they would duel, to add even more stakes, the winner would gain one point for their house. It wasn’t much, but it was enough to give them a competitive edge. You made your way up the steps to your desk and faced the class.

“I’m sure we all saw what Marrow could have done differently.” There were giggles as the students took their seats. “Your stance is very important, not just in dueling. It can even affect other spells as well.” The bell rang as you finished your sentence. “Good job today, class. I will see all of your Monday.” The sounds of shuffling, books being put away and chairs scraping on the floor as the students left and some waved goodbye. As the last student left, a familiar shadowy figure strode through the door. “Hello, love.” You smiled as he approached.

“Good afternoon, Professor.” You raised a brow with a playful smirk when he was finally in front of you, raising lightly on your toes to peck his cheek.

“We’re far past ‘Professor’ when we’re alone, Severus.” A pink hue dusted his cheeks as he cleared his throat, keeping a neutral expression as he looked around the room to make sure there were no more students present.

“We are still on school grounds, y/n.”

“We’ve been on school grounds whe-” he shot you a look and you laughed. “Alright alright.” You tidied up your desk, pushed your chair in then went back to his side, leading him out of the classroom. “Let’s be off then, Professor.” You said the last part with a more suggestive tone as you nudged his arm with your own. He grumbled at you. As the two of you continued down the hall, Snape seemed more rigid and quiet than usual, and that’s his natural state. “Are you alright, Sev?” You asked sincerely, placing your arm on his as you walked. He looked down at you and gave the smallest twitch of a smile.

“I’m fine.” Then he turned his attention forward again. It wasn’t odd for him to deflect when you questioned him about his feelings, but something felt different about this time.

The two of you sat together at the professors’ table and quietly chatted like normal, but you could tell there was something off. You placed your hand on his thigh and he stiffened then relaxed. That was odd… you leaned over and sniffed. He leaned away, his head snapping to you with a shocked expression on his face.

“What are you doing?” You actually couldn’t help but laugh at the sight. You leaned back in your chair, your hand still resting on his thigh.

“I’m just making sure I didn’t smell any knotgrass or fluxweed on you.” You shrugged and took a sip of water from the cup in front of you.

“Why would I-” he paused, returning to his normal position then leaning slightly towards you. “Were you smelling for Polyjuice?” Your eyes looked at him then back to your drink and you shrugged letting out a ‘hmph’, setting your glass back down.

“Just making sure it was you.” He let out a sigh then took the hand that was on his thigh and placed it on your own, leaving his hand on top of it as you took a bite from your plate. He leaned in to whisper so only you could hear.

“I’ll prove to you it’s me tonight.” You nearly choked. Severus rubbed your back and patted it lightly as you coughed. You narrowed your eyes at him, but he was just giving you a concerned look. He had no idea what he just implied.

Later that night you and Severus were walking around Hogsmeade, enjoying the cool night air before your u had to be at the tea house. You’d chosen to wear a flowy dress with short puffed sleeves. It had a blue floral design on the body and pure white on the skirt and sleeves. Along with a simple silver chain that had a small sapphire set in the middle. Something Severus had gotten you, knowing your affinity for your house colors, as a thank you for being there for him. The two of you had been together officially for over a year now. You had told him you wanted the two of you to do something special together, nothing big, just special. But, both of you were so busy you hadn’t had the time until now. He had come to your quarters a few days prior with a look in his eyes that you couldn’t quite place.

**flashback**

“Y/n?” His hand still on the doorknob and not leaving the threshold.

“Yes, Sev?” You make your way down the two steps from where your bedroom was and wrap your robe around yourself tighter. You had already changed into your nightgown and it was quite sheer. “You can come in.” His eyes scanned you from head to toe then he cleared his throat and looked the other way.

“I won’t be long.” He looks back to your eyes, you were directly in front of him now, him looking down at you. “I merely had a question to ask you.” you smiled and placed both hands on his abdomen, letting your robe open slightly.

“Well, you are always welcome to stay.” He gives you a closed lip smile and brings one of his hands to yours and squeezes it gently.

“I have some matters that need attending to. Someone’s been stealing from my inventory.”

“And you wanted my help?” You ask, smirking up at him. He deadpanned.

“No, I can handle it quite efficiently on my own thank you.” You let out a laugh.

“Then what is it you needed to ask me?” He was trying to keep his eyes from looking at your nightdress, a slight blush ghosting his cheeks.

“Are you available this weekend?” He moves his hand to tuck a stray hair behind your ear.

“I am, did you have something in mind?” You ask, straightening the front of his robe.

“We’ve been busy and haven’t been able to celebrate like you had wanted. I may not understand it, but if it means something to you it does to me. I’ve made reservations on Friday at Madam Puddifoot’s Tea House for us.” To say you were surprised was an understatement. Sure, he was romantic, but it was more in small gestures. A potion for a hangover or a snack if you looked peckish. There were those few times where he did pick you a flower, but that was pretty rare. He’d done nothing quite like this. You couldn’t help but tear up. His eyes widened and he cupped your face with his hands. “I’m sorry, I didn't mean to overstep. I just thought-” you shake your head and smile at him, wrapping your arms around his neck, his instinctively going to hold your waist.

“They’re happy tears, Severus. This is so sweet of you.” He blushes and looks away, affection and closeness was still something new to him. Something he was slowly warming up to. “It’ll be fun, I can’t wait.” His mouth turned into a closed lip smile as he looked back to meet your eyes. You lean up to press a soft kiss to his lips. “Are you sure you don’t want to stay?” You ask, raising a brow. He brings his hand up to cup your jaw and ran his thumb over your cheek.

“I want to, dear, but I should get to the bottom of this before the week’s end.”

“Alright then.” You press one more kiss to his lips before he pulls away.

“Goodnight.”

“Goodnight, love.” He went to turn away, but stopped and faced you again, studying your face then leaned forward and kissed your forehead. You smiled up at him then his retreating form and closed the door.

**end of flashback**

The two of you walked into the tea house, a little bell ringing as Severus held the door open for you. Madam Puddifoot looks up from her current table and smiles, excuses herself from them then wipes her hands on her apron.

“Hello, hello, welcome. Come in, come in!” She ushers the two of you inside. “Mr. Snape, it’s good to see you again. I have the private tea room ready for you and your lovely lady.” You couldn’t help but smile at that. As she started leading the two of you up the narrow steps up to the second floor you looked up at Severus.

“Private room?” You asked, wiggling your eyebrows.

“You said you wanted something special.”

“I did.” You smile, he must have put a lot of effort into this. You followed Madam Puddifoot up the stairs. Severus put his hand on your lower back to make sure you didn’t fall backwards. You couldn’t help the way it made you tingle. Not only were the stairs narrow, they were fairly steep too. He wasn’t about to have the night ruined because of a nasty fall. After walking down a short hallway at the top of the stairs the Madam opened the double doors at the end of the hall.

“Here we are.” She steps aside to let the two of you in. “I’ll be back in a moment with a fresh pot of tea.” Severus guides you into the room and to your chair, pulling it out for you.

“Thank you.” You lean up to kiss his cheek then take a seat and he pushes your chair in for you. “Such a gentleman tonight.” You tease and he lets out a grunt in response as he takes his seat across from you. You laugh and take the napkin from the table and place it on your lap. “Truly, though.” You reach your hand across the table and place it on his. “This is lovely, Sev. Thank you.” He takes your hand and places a gentle kiss on your knuckles.

“You deserve the best.” He practically whispered. You smile brightly at him. He’s really laying on the charm tonight. The two of you sat there for a moment, enjoying each other's company while he watched as he ran his thumb over your knuckles, deep in thought. He let go of your hand and sat up straight when Madam Puddifoot came back into the room.

“Here we are.” You moved your arm out of the way as she filled both of your tea cups. When you looked back to Severus he was staring into his tea with that same look in his eyes that he had when he came to your room a few days ago. Almost as if he was unsure about something. “Please help yourselves to any of the sandwiches and pastries on the table there.” She motions to the long table on the wall to your right with a large assortment of goodies. “They were freshly made for you. If you need anything else, just ring the bell.” She exited the room and closed the doors gently behind her. Once she was gone you took a sip of your tea and hummed contently, closing your eyes.

“This is lovely.” When you opened your eyes, Severus was staring at you. “What?” You ask with a smirk on your face.

“I’m admiring.” He stated simply, then broke eye contact and took a sip of his own tea. You smiled to yourself and the two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while. The two of you simply enjoyed each other's company. Eventually, you had gotten up and grabbed a plate of pastries for you and Severus. The two of you ate and chatted and about some of your students and about current events. When the two of you had your fill, you left, thanking Madam Puddifoot on the way out.

“Shall we head back?” You ask, arms lacing through his, leaning your head on his shoulder. He placed his free hand on yours.

“I have one more thing I would like to do.”

“Oh?” You ask, lifting your head to look up at him. “Lead the way.”

Severus led you to a concrete balcony that overlooked the highlands. It was dark now, the street lamps dimly glowing around you. The moon was full and the stars were twinkling, it was a gorgeous night. You let out a sigh and turn to face him to hug him around his middle.

“Thank you for such a wonderful date, Sev. It was perfect.” He looks down at you, bringing one arm to rest on your shoulder and the other to your cheek, you leaned into his touch. “I really do love you.” He stiffens at first then kisses the top of your head.

“I love you too.” He whispered into your hair. “I know I’m not worthy of it,” he lifts his head to look back into your eyes. “Or you.” You give him a sad smile then take his hands to hold them in between the two of you.

“Don’t say that, Severus. You’re more worthy than any man could ever be.” His eyes started to tear up at that. He searched your face for any sign of dishonesty, that maybe this was some long running joke that James and Sirius were pulling on him. There was no way someone so kind and loving was real. Not to him. He slowly sank in front of you to one knee, keeping your hands in his. “Severus?”

“I'm not the man that you deserve, y/n.” He turned his gaze to look at your hands in his and ran his thumbs over the back of them. “I’m stubborn, selfish, damaged, but you see the good in me, even when I cannot see it myself.” Your eyes began to water. Was this really happening? “Y/n.” He let go of your right hand and reached into the inside pocket of his robe to pull out a small velvet box. He looked at it for a moment before opening it and presenting it to you. When his eyes met yours again, he was the most sincere you had ever seen him. “I love you. I thought no one could ever love me, that it was simply my lot in life. But you showed me otherwise and pulled me from my darkness. You are my light. Will you marry me?”

Thanks for reading! If you’d like to be added to the tag list for the next chapter please let me know!

Next: Part 5

Tags: @lizard-zombie @liviacarol88-blog @johnmurphys-sass

[somanyratsinthewalls]

Kinktober Special Part 8

Mo’s Kinktober Special 

The Crew’s Whore (Part 8) (+18)

!!!!!!MINORS DNI!!!!

Summary: You are the former owner of the Grand Line’s most popular brothel. Your powerful fighting abilities got the attention of the captain of the Straw Hat Pirates. He had asked you to join their crew but what would you bring to the team? Your battle skills were hardly comparable to many of the other Straw Hats… but you actually had a great skill. Your years working as a high end escort had prepared you to become the private plaything for this pirate crew. You joined the Straw Hats as their personal sex toy.

Pairing: Trafalgar Law x Fem!Reader

WC: 2600 lol

TWs: IT’S FOOT TIME! FOOT FETISH WARNING! Man I am not even into feet but this kinda did it for me. In my brain Law is canonically into feet in a weird way. Unprotected sex, p in v sex, table sex, alcohol consuption, toe sucking lmao, just fetish shit yeah.

——

The trip to the next island was turning out to be longer than anticipated due to poor weather. The Straw Hat pirates had allied themselves with now-warlord-of-the-sea Captain Trafalgar Law and were harboring him on their ship as they sailed towards the next part of their plan as an alliance. The weather had finally turned pleasant so of course Luffy ordered Sanji to prepare a huge feast, complete with piles of steaming food and barrels of cold booze. 

Eating and drinking were two of you favorite activities, second and third only to fucking, so you were thrilled at the prospect of a little party. No one had approached you yet and asked you for your time tonight, everyone being so busy setting up for the party and all… but you expected that to change as the night went on. Because you anticipated being taken for your services tonight, you took the time to bathe and clean yourself up a little extra nice. 

You curled your hair into soft waves and spent half an hour caking your face and painting your lips a glossy sheer crimson before heading to your closet and picked out an outfit. You settled on a flouncy little baby pink dress, the layered fabric sheer and light. The soft pink hem swished high up on your thighs, leaving very little of your legs to the imagination. Looking at yourself in the mirror, you decide to play it up even further and crouched down to grab a pair of red high heels from under your bed. You slipped on the pumps and with a final twirl in the mirror headed out to the party. 

The deck of the ship was buzzing with the sounds of your crew mates enjoying themselves. Brook was serenading the party with a jaunty tune to which Chopper and Nami were dancing, Luffy was busying himself with the sumptuous spread Sanji prepared, all while Zoro was ahead of the game and drinking himself into oblivion. Law was seated at the same table as Zoro, seemingly having much less of a nice time. The mysterious doctor was hunched over and stared emotionless into his drink, puffy brim of his hat shielding most of his face. 

You noticed your friend Robin leaning up against the back wall of the Sunny with a glass of red wine in hand and bit of a scowl on her face. 

“You don’t look pleased with the festivities.” 

“See that target they put up at the end of the ship?” Robin nods behind you. 

You turn and do indeed see a large target placed near the head of the Sunny. 

“Yeah?” You inquire. 

“Usopp and Franky keep having shooting contests. Franky keeps losing but he won’t give up. I don’t think they’ve sat down all night, and his face is as red as a tomato. Kind of embarrassing…” Robin giggles a little. 

“Are you surprised? I guess they’ll be out of our hair for the rest of the night then.” You laugh.

“That’s my point.” Robin rolls her eyes. Your brows raise in realization. 

“Ohhhh… you were trying to get laid! I get it now! Well no one’s approached me if you’re still up for it later…” You wink.  

“Thank you sweet y/n, always so thoughtful!” Robin sips her wine. “I’ll see if I can find you later if I’m still feeling up for it. Go get a drink and enjoy the party, dear!” Robin waves you on to the kitchen. 

You enter the galley and are immediately met with a very sweaty, stressed out Sanji. 

“Hi handsome.” You purr as you approach the blonde at the stove. 

“Oh, hello my love. I’m afraid the voracious appetite of our captain has rendered me incapacitated for the rest of the evening, the fucking glutton…” Sanji sighs. 

“Aww, my poor, tired, love cook.” You coo as you push his bangs out of his eyes. You place a kiss on his cheek. A droplet of blood escapes Sanji’s left nostril. “Well I’ll leave you to it then.” You grab a bottle of cold wine from the fridge and a glass from the shelf and carry them both out to the deck with you. 

You stroll over to the table where Law and Zoro were seated, now joined by Luffy whose cheeks were stuffed to bursting with various meats and cheeses. 

“You gentlemen mind if I sit with you?” You ask while already sitting down across from Law. 

“Not at all, pretty thing. Come have a drink with us.” Zoro smirks at you, holding his hand out to take the wine bottle from you. You oblige and he unsheathes a single blade to pop the cork off for you in dramatic fashion. 

“My hero.” You chide as the swordsman fills your glass to the brim. “If I didn’t know better, I’d think you were trying to get me drunk, Mr. Roronoa.” 

“And what if I am? You say the filthiest shit after you’ve had a whole bottle of wine and it’s fucking incredible.” Zoro shoots you a hungry look as he downs another cup of sake. Luffy giggles. Law straightens up and gives Zoro a confused look. 

“Not much of a talker, are you, Trafalgar?” You turn your attention to Law. 

“I didn’t know the two of you were a couple.” He states blankly. 

“We’re not. I’m seeing everyone.” You smirk across the table at the foreign captain. He looks even more confused. “It’s what I do. I love making my crew mates happy, you can understand that, can’t you?”

Without time to answer, Luffy interjects. 

“Haha you should give her a try, Traffy! She’s really something hehe!” 

Law’s eyes widen. 

“Yeah why not, Tra-Guy? You’re already here eating our food and drinking our booze, why not sample some of the other amenities we have here on the Sunny.” Zoro chuckles as he pours himself another cup of liquor. Zoro must be quite fond of Law, as sharing you is never something he likes to bring up. 

“I’m sorry… are you offering me… her? Shouldn’t she be doing that?” Law looks a bit offended. 

“Would that make you feel better? My services apply to guests of the Straw Hat pirates as well, and I assure you I can meet whatever needs you may have.” You swirl you wine in the glass and take a long sip. 

“Um… No.. that’s.. that’s quite alright, thank you.” Law stutters out his refusal. 

“You don’t know what you’re turning down, man. Whatever you’re into, and I mean whatever, she can do it. Sweetest pussy in the Grand Line.” Zoro leans back in his chair. 

“Zoro! Don’t be so vulgar around our guest.” You scold the swordsman. 

“Whatever, his loss.” Zoro shrugs and slams another drink. 

— — 

After hours upon hours of dancing and drinking, the party had thinned out quite a bit. Now that things were winding down, you notice the painful ache in your feet from wearing high heels all night. Most everyone had headed to bed and you were considering doing the same until you spy your unfinished bottle of wine on the table with Law still dated at it, alone now. 

You sit down across from Law and take a swig from the bottle directly, your glass having been lost several dances ago. 

“Classy.” Law remarks from across the table. 

“Never said that was part of my resume.” You smirk and take another swallow of alcohol. You pull your feet up into your lap and groan. “God this is the last fucking time I wear these heels.” 

You slip off one of your shoes and behind massaging the heel of your foot with both hands. You pause your ministrations to grab another sip of wine when you notice Law’s eyes on you. They weren’t on your breasts close to spilling out of your low cut dress, or your plush thighs squishing against the wood of the bench you were sitting on… they were on your foot in your lap. 

There it is.

Ideas filled your head on how to finally break this stoic stranger. 

“You’re a doctor, right?” You ask innocently. 

“Huh?” Law responds, having been snapped out of what seemed like a trance. “Um, yeah.” 

“Could you maybe feel right here? I think it could be swollen.” You extend your nearly naked leg across from you and push the table to the side so that there was nothing between the two of you. 

“It..i-it doesn’t look swollen… but if you really want I could… I could take a closer look…” He hesitantly up at you before returning his gaze to your perfectly pedicured foot. 

“I’d love that. Thank you.” 

Law gingerly takes your foot in both hands and presses firmly into where you were pointing. You squirm a bit, feet incredibly sore from dancing all night. Law starts to rub up and down from your toes to your heel, intently examining every inch. You couldn’t help but notice how his mouth was now parted and his breathing quickened as he stroked your foot. 

He stopped abruptly and released your foot from his hold. 

“I-it seems fine. You should be fine.” 

You drop your foot directly into his lap and push it firmly against the crotch of Law’s jeans. 

“Are you sure, doctor? I think you should check again.” You flash him a devious smile as you take another swig from the bottle. 

“W-what are you doing, y/n?” Law sputters out, sweat forming on his temples. You feel his cock begin to stir under the sole of your foot. 

“You know, Traffy, we could have a lot of fun together…” You push harder against his erection with your foot. 

Law winces but he doesn’t respond. 

“Y-yeah?” He manages to pant out. 

You begin to slowly stroke your foot over his denim clad member, feeling it from base to tip, hot and aching to be freed. 

“Mhmm… Why don’t you take him out so we can play? You’re so hard Traffy, must hurt… We’re the only ones left out here, no need to be shy anymore…” You giggle. 

Law sucks in a breath before eventually undoing his belt and jeans buttons. His cock springs up as he pulls it out his pants and briefs, laying rigid against his abdomen. 

“Wow… you have such a pretty cock, Traffy…” You coo at him as you slip your left shoe off your foot and allow it to join your other foot in his lap. 

“D-don’t call me that…” Law whispers out. 

“Sorry…” You begin rubbing both of your feet up and down Law’s now exposed length. He watches your movements in awe as his mouth hangs farther open than before. “You’re just so cute I can’t help but tease you…” 

Law pays your words no mind as he is mesmerized by the sight of your pretty little feet stroking his cock. Soft pants leave his lips as you continue working him over. 

“You wanna cum like this, or do you wanna fuck me, Law?” You ask as you slide the ball of your right foot over his leaking tip. 

Without responding verbally, Law grunts and leans forward to pick you up by your waist and lay you down roughly on the table you had scooted out of the way earlier. He rips his shirt over his head, keeping his hat in place. He wastes no time and flips up your frilly pink dress to expose your panties that had grown wet from merely giving a powerful man a foot job. 

“I’m not waiting-“ Law says as he pushes your panties to the side and slides the head of his cock from your hole to your clit and back again, coating himself in your wetness. He pushes himself inside of you quickly, causing you to moan and arch your back. After a few experimental thrusts, Law picks up a quick pace and rams his hips into yours, curved cock hitting all the right places inside of you. 

“Oh, fuck, Law that’s so oh-!” Your eyes snap open at the foreign feeling only to see Law standing between your legs with the outside few toes of your right foot in his mouth. Eyes slammed shut, he doesn’t falter in his thrusts as he savors the taste of your skin on his tongue. He uses one hand to rub at your clit as he caresses your ankle with the other. 

“Dirty boy…” You coo up at him as you rake your nails down his abdomen. “You like sucking on my toes, you filthy boy?”

“Mmmm” Law manages to groan out as he peppers wet, sloppy kisses to the sole of your foot now, making sure every inch gets his attention. 

“Make me cum and I’ll let you blow all over them.” You demand as you wrap your other leg around his waist and pull him closer. 

“Fuck… swordsman wasn’t kidding…” Law grunts out as he picks up the pace of his hips, plowing into you with an ungodly force. He untangles your legs from his body and pushes them up to your chest, allowing himself the perfect angle to heighten your pleasure. 

With hands under the crooks of your knees, Law brings you tumbling over the edge of your high and you cried out his name to the starry sky above you as your orgasm overtakes you. With your cunt still pulsing, Law pulls his aching, throbbing cock begging for release from your tight hole and begins stroking it in front of you. 

Law grabs both your ankles in one hand and proceeds to blow rope after rope of hot white spend all over your delicate, pink painted toes. 

Breathing heavily still, Law takes a few moments to admire his handiwork. 

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer.” You quip from your exposed state on the table. 

Law shoves himself back into his pants and puts his shirt back on. He surprisingly takes the time to gently put your panties back into place and pull your dress down before helping you off the table. 

“You aren’t.. going to tell anyone about this… right?” He asks, hiding his eyes again with the brim of his hat. 

“About what? You liking feet?” You smirk. 

“Y-yeah…” 

“You’re secret is safe with me, Traffy.” You say with a wink. 

xx

*A/N ........ sorry :)*

[knavves]

EDGING ft sae itoshi & ryusei shidou — sae catches you touching yourself and punishes you !

wc: 0.6k ノ cw + tw : nsfw (18+). sub! fem reader. threesomes. sex toys (dildo). overstimulation. edging. handjobs. use of petnames. mentions of nude sending. humiliation.

"fuckk.. m close, sae." shidou grunts, head leaning onto his reddish haired lovers shoulder. only a hum sounded through sae's throat as he continued to vigorously jerk him off. each pump of his hand had shidou's thighs trembling from overstimulation, his own stomach covered in his past orgasms but he still leaned into sae's intoxicating touch and greedily begged him for more. shidou's groans rang through your ears as he came all over his own stomach and sae's hand.

but you hadn't even come once.

the pink dildo inside of you stilled when sae noticed your moans getting louder, but with shidou he'd quicken his pace and kiss the side of his head urging him to let go for him. every time you pleaded for him he'd only shoot you a glare but he was more than willingly to give his all to the blonde beside him. perhaps you could've been in shidou's position if you hadn't broken sae's one rule, touching yourself without permission.

but how could you not? they left you untouched for so long, only late night phone calls and sinful texts, the occasional nude from shidou, to keep you satisfied. but it couldn't be so bad to just indulge yourself one night, right?

but sae thought quite the opposite as he prodded the silicone toy against your aching hole once more, pushing it all in with one swift thrust. he could barely contain himself, it took him everything in him not to fuck you dumb and have you creaming on his cock but his sweet girl had to learn somehow.

"p-please sae! said i was sorry, let me cum." you were delirious at that point. having orgasm after orgasm dangled right in front of you just for it to be stripped away was driving you fucking crazy. especially when out the corner of your eye, you saw shidou erratically fucking up into sae's hand. maybe in your own head, his moans seemed louder than usual, almost like he was rubbing your punishment in your own face.

sae cocked his head to the side, his green eyes drilling holes into your body, naked and sprawled out just for him. "you want to cum, sweetheart?" your breath hitched and you frantically nodded yes yes yes over and over, your voice stuck in your throat from the feeling of the dildo dragging against your walls. it didn't feel nearly as good as sae or shidou but you were far too gone to care about anything than your own release.

"what do you think, shidou? does our princess deserve it?" sae asks, turning his attention from your trembling figure to shidou. how you wanted to wipe the chesire grin that tugged at the ends of his lips as he spoke through heavy breaths, "nah. i don't think she's learned her lesson yet."

"s not true! i've been good, please i need it." tears pooled up in your lash line, blurring your already hazy vision as you glared at the two. "aw look she's crying, sae. too much for you?"

sae paid no mind to your begging or shidou's teasing as he continued to drill the toy in and out of you, your wet squelching noises echoing throughout the room. you whined as you felt that familiar coil in your belly begin to form, you desperately clung to it and fucked your hips to meet each thrust of his hand. your mind blanked and your toes curled as you started trembling and then-

he stopped. you gasped at the feeling of your precious orgasm slipping through your fingers.

"maybe next time, angel. still needa learn your lesson."

© knavves : reposting, plagiarizing, modifying, and translating is NOT allowed.

[tetsutits]

ᰔ cw – fem!reader, weddings, ran is such a wife guy its insane, unprotected ptv, mdni (0.9k words)

most people will agree that weddings are events that are pure, sacred, an act that signifies love and devotion to ones lover. and though they aren't wrong -- a part of you thinks otherwise.

fate sealed and deal done, you now are a married woman with a beautiful rock on your finger -- the very best, of course. ran haitani demands only the best for his beloved, he won't settle for any less than perfect.

fitted in a pretty, white, flowy gown, dolled up so that you could almost be mistaken for a princess, you look like the definition of beauty.

what do they say about brides wearing white on weddings again? oh, right, they were to show pureness, virtue, and innocence.

you disagree.

-- because the way your husband is fucking you right now is nowhere near innocent or pure.

"fuck! fuck--! ran, oh, yes-!"

"fucking hell, baby," your husband groans into your ear, lips grazing over the sensitive skin of your jaw, "'driving me insane."

his wandering hands touch and grope all over you, shamelessly squeezing at your tits through the fabric of your wedding dress that's been hiked up over your hips.

"you're, you're being too loud, ran," you gasp, mouth forming a silent 'o' at the way the tip of his cock repeatedly rubs deliciously against that one spongey spot inside you over and over.

what can you say? your husband knows you too well. body and soul.

he laughs breathily, "this pussy's g'nna kill me one day, i swear,"

impatient as he can be, ran could not wait any longer after your vows and ring exchange. he whisked you away with a hand interlocked with yours, pulling you down hallways and rooms to escape family and guests at the wedding -- just too damn impatient and needing to be alone with you.

impatient, and horny.

now bent over a table in some random cramped room, your husband fucks into your tight pussy like he's never going to get a chance to fuck you ever again. he didn't even bother dropping his slacks all the way, just needing to whip his dick out as soon as he could.

with your gown and veil flipped over your hips, the front of his thighs slap against the back of yours, the skin burning pink and red, drowning out the dirty squelches of your sloppy pussy.

"oh, ran! fuck, fuck, keep doing that, right there--!"

pain blooms satisfyingly, and the way his heavy balls slap against your clit every time he thrusts deep into you has you rolling your eyes and throwing your head back.

he groans, way too loud and not thinking of how anyone passing by can hear everything going on inside this room, "yeah? right there? don' need to tell me, baby, i know."

his breath sends shivers down your spine, little tingles lighting up nerve endings and adding to the ever-growing stimulation. his husky voice makes you squeeze uncontrollably around his dick, pulsing and spasming.

"what? you like that?" he teases, voice low as he thrusts up even harder, gripping your hips tighter so he can force them down to his own, "y'like when i'm fucking you like this, hard and fast?"

"yes, yes! so good, so good," you whine.

the fact that anyone could walk in on the two of you anytime pumps adrenaline all through your body, it makes everything ten times more intense than it is. you could drown in the way ran fucks you so good, perfectly even -- and you relish in the way every thrust brings both pain and pleasure.

"ahh, fuck, if you keep squeezin' me like this, you'll make me cum, princess."

your hands scramble behind you for any stability, trying your best to grab him for any support, but his hips thrust too hard, too harsh, you can barely keep yourself up on your toes at this point.

"ran, ran, ran--!" you babble and squeal as soon as you feel two of his fingers slide over your swollen bud, flicking it and rubbing directly over it.

"c'mon, cum all over this fuckin' dick," he groans, pressing wet kisses all over your jaw and neck, licking away the drops of sweat that gather there. "soak my cock."

and, oh, you do.

ran feels you drench him in slick, pussy so wet he thinks he could drown in it. you tighten impossibly around him, and for a slight second he thinks you might push him right out of you.

all this time, he never stops fucking back into you, determined to prolong your high, to hear you whine and cry even more than you are right now.

you'd be one lucky bride if your makeup isn't melting down your face.

"ahh, yeah, shit, shit," he croaks, eyes tight and face screwed up in pleasure.

ran pulls out abruptly as soon as you come down from your high, slipping out of your wet cunt only so he can blow his entire load all over your veil. coating the lacy material in spurts of his hot cum.

"r-ran! what the fuck!" you squeal, face turned to look back at him in shock.

he groans shamelessly, hand working over his dick to make sure every last drop is out, only then does he slump over you with a stupid smile on his face.

"jus' needed to mark my territory." he says, face tucked into your neck. "what?"

you furrow your brows. "what do you mean 'what?' are you serious right now?!"

he doesn't even look sorry. "hell yeah. 'so hot knowing my cum is on my wife's veil."

"you're disgusting."

"i know."

"you're getting me a new one." you demand.

"anything my wife wants, she gets."

---

IM SO SORRY FOR THE LAST PART ASJDBAKBD thank you for reading!!1

[archivedzeke]

STREAMER GETS FINGERED ! kenma kozume

warnings ! top m! reader , trans character (afab) , nsfw , fingering , voyeurism , exhibition , squirting , daddy kink , slight spanking

★ . . . “ keep your fucking hips up. " your hand came into contact with kenma's face , his head whipping to the side from the force of the slap as a sharp whine left his lips from the sting.

your long fingers were buried deep inside kenma's pink cunt , his legs spread wide just for you as you moved both your middle and ring finger in and out of him slowly , watching him suck them back in with minimal ease. such a fucking whore.

the black haired man could only hold his legs open and move his hips down against your fingers for better friction. thighs quaking as he asked you to give him more , make him cum.

kenma was propped onto his back , arms wrapped under the backside of his knees to keep his legs in the air. his streaming camera which was usually facing his gaming chair was pointed toward the bed , zoomed in on his dripping cunt.

" look at his pretty little pussy , taking my fingers so well. he's leaking everywhere. you like being shown off like this don't you bitch ? "

he nodded his head obediently , toes curling in ecstasy , " yes daddy. i l-luh-love it ! "

the poor boys legs were shaking and a bit sore , being forced to sit still as you had your way with him - antagonizing him with the slow movement of your fingers. he just wanted to cum.

you pump them in and out of him quickly , spurring on gasps and high-pitched moans. his pussy fluttered around your fingers , head rolling to the side but not once did he drop his legs.

" pluh-please daddy. . . ngh-oh fuck! " his slick juices seeping out and coating your fingers to the knuckle , the excess sticking to his thighs.

" are you going to cum baby? you've been so greedy , pussy swallowing my fingers. i'm sure our little viewers would love for you to cum like this " you placed a kiss on his ass cheek and smirked at the camera. slowing your fingers to hear the loud wet slick sounds that cause him embarrassment.

as if getting fingered on the live stream was not enough. kenma’s clit throbbed , twitching for stimulation. he’s been good, doing as you say and letting you pull orgasm after orgasm out of him.

" d-deeper! fuck. . . push them deeper " he let his words trail off into a gentle groan. pushing his ass back in time for you to push your fingers further into his cunt. “yes . . ah! like that daddy ! ”

there was a split second of shock as kenma's back arched off the bed with a girlish moan , thick cream gushing from his sloppy folds as he tried his hardest to pull away. " whoa baby , was that it? did i find your spot? "

you teased him to no end , stimulating the spongey area while rubbing gentle circles on his throbbing clit. kenma's broken garbled language had your thick cock begging for release.

but of course , you could deal with that after you've made him cum again from your fingers. it didn’t take him long , he was already at his peak again. but this time he felt different , wetter.

his clit twitched underneath your thumb and his pussy walls clenched around your fingers , spasming with wetness and heat before kenma's eyes crossed and a loud sob of pleasure left his throat. body going rigid and legs tensing in air.

clear liquid spurting from his cunt , and his hold on his leg going weak as his body went limp. but you leaned over to catch some of his release on your tongue with a giggle.

" you made such a mess ken ! look at that ! ”

pulling your fingers away from his used pussy and spreading his folds, you glanced at the camera with a smile, bringing your other hand down on the fat of his ass before gripping the flesh.

kenma panted , mewled , and giggled. the orgasm leaving him in an almost braindead state. if he was this way with your fingers , he was going to be even better with your cock buried in his cunt.

𝗰𝘃𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗮𝘁𝗲𝗿𝘇𝗲𝗸𝗲™

[danosrosegarden]

something real - timothy klitz x gn!reader headcanons (NSFW) ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

{kinktober: day thirteen. prompt: mutual masturbation. 🎃}

{contains: reader having a little anxiety around sex, mutual masturbation, and a facial (reader receiving).}

☽ It was the point in your relationship where the bumbling butterflies still buzzed in your stomach when you spoke to Klitz. The puppy love still bloomed like wildflowers in your skipping heart, but you were beginning to grow comfortable with him. He was safe, easy to share your company with. You felt comfortable in the warm glow of his arms...yet something was amiss.

☽ You couldn't help but feel like you were doing something wrong by making him stop every time things got hot and heavy. He was never upset, always willing to hold you close and stroke your hair afterwards without a word of questioning. But that would grow stale and stiff eventually, wouldn't it? Eventually, he was going to want more.

☽ He, with searing pink cheeks and eyes shyly cast down, proposed an idea one night. What if we...you know...touched ourselves? But...uh...together?

☽ The solution seemed so simple; you could take care of yourselves without the pressure or expectations while still being together. Why hadn't you thought of it before? Your stomach lurched and crackled with erotic elation.

☽ With letting Klitz see you like this for the very first time, so raw, so bare and exposed, came a scorching flurry of bashfulness. Though your cheeks burned hot and your gut popped with anxiety, there also existed an aura of fresh excitement. It was something new. Fun. Real.

☽ Still, the jumbling nerves dancing in your stomach were difficult to shake. Klitz must have noticed your hands quivering as you peeled your pants away, because he laced your hand with his, his thumb stroking your soft skin.

☽ "Just pretend like I'm not even here," he whispered to you. "Touch yourself like you normally do."

☽ It felt odd and mechanical at first, your hand swirling around while you knew full well there were prying eyes watching. But you repeated the mantra in your head like prayer: just pretend like I'm not even here. Eventually, it felt like just another night in your bed by yourself, your spit-slicked fingers hitting the spots you knew made your toes curl and legs shake. You fell into a blissful rhythm, and the heat began to tighten in your core.

☽ You peeked for a moment and stifled a giggle. Klitz was struggling to keep his eyes open and continue to watch you while he stroked himself with a tight fist. The sounds were wet and thick. You watched as his thighs rocked about and his chest dragged up and down at a jagged, haphazard rate. He was close. And he deserved a reward for such a great idea, you thought with a small grin.

☽ You crawl to his feet in front of him, sitting on your knees. He slows his strokes to stare at you for a moment, cocking his brow. "What are you doing?"

☽ Your hand snakes up to his thigh, rubbing his skin with a soft grip. "You wanna cum on my face, Klitzy?"

☽ It's a challenging task not to laugh at the pathetic whimper that's punched out from deep within his chest. "F-fuck yeah, I do." His pumping fist tightens as he strokes faster.

☽ He paints your face with his warm strings of cum, one hand squeezing the base of his cock and the other running long, bony fingers through your hair.

☽ Is it odd to feel warmly emotional while semen is dripping from your face? It's just that...you really couldn't imagine it being anyone else but him. It was only him who you wanted to trust like this. You couldn't think of anything else but that shaggy hair and those thin glasses when imagining sharing this deep, hidden, intimate part of yourself.

☽ You'd work yourself up to letting him inside of you. For now, you had a deliciously fun game to play together. No pressure, no expectations. Just doing, just being.

[infinite-orangepeel]

“get too close to your muse & you, the artist, will lose all ability to decipher one shade from the next on your palette. keep your distance…”

fall quarter begins at the curly roots of eddie munson’s ineffable head, runs its’ labyrinthian course through passageways of blue veins & black ink, & ends at a set of hairy crimson painted toes.

steve finds himself squandering every waking moment of his lifeblood & attention somewhere, egregiously, in the middle.

“say you’re drawing a bed of flowers,” his professor lectured a few weeks back, “what happens if you put your nose in the middle of those flowers & try to recreate the details on your canvas? you come up with color and shape, sure, but it’s blurry—isn’t it? it’s a big blobby blur of nothing. that’s not very good life drawing, i’m afraid.”

flash forward to the present—

the bed is firm but comfortable. reminding you of its’ presence.

it doesn’t encourage daydreaming &, yet, steve is ignoring the better advice of his mentor & pressing his curious nose directly into the bud of an all too striking flower.

he knows the intimate contact could kill the rose, is aware of the thorns lining the stem, but he can’t stay away.

he’s struck by fear and temptation and self-loathing and a beauty that stings like a slap across the face.

eddie’s his roommate, his friend, his muse for the most important project of steve’s career as an art student.

& getting too close is lethal, so he creates a sort of optical illusion.

designs an environment in which he can pretend they are star-crossed lovers in a broken world that won’t let them be together. in which touch is a small death each and every time.

steve flits to eddie like a dragonfly to water—

never touching.

never spending too much time in his orbit before making up an excuse to leave & jerk off to the smell of old cigarettes in the bathroom.

everything he really wants to say sits in the back of his throat like a painful, malignant lump & gets spat out onto his sketchbook in a tragically romantic exorcism.

doing the dishes next to him is enough to drive him insane.

drawing him, butt-naked, is another story.

“is it supposed to be so….erotic?”

eddie arches an eyebrow as steve traces the outline of his cock into his sketchbook.

“it’s not that erotic,” steve says, blushing into his charcoals, “besides no one will know it’s you. it’s art.”

art is supposed to be weird & naked. now, hold still, & let me draw you.”

it’s definitely erotic.

there are roses—de-thorned, for safety—shrouding eddie’s dick & leaving a trail of pink petals across his pale thighs.

eddie’s hand is draped over his head; exuding a certain brattiness, lust, boredom—

as if he’s lying there because he wants someone, like steve, to stumble upon him & use his body the way it so clearly needs to be.

his lips are parted on the precipice of whispering some filthy secret into steve’s ear while milking him like a simple farm girl with nothing better to do.

fuck.

he can’t be this close to eddie without losing his mind.

fuck. fuck. fuck.

it’s just a body. just limbs and a huge cock and—

eddie’s quiet for a little while which is rare for him, before he pipes up again.

“what if we painted the flowers together?”

steve wipes the sweat from his brow, drops his pencil, and looks up at eddie across the mattress. working overtime to avoid staring at the erection sticking out amongst the bouquet of roses.

“the piece isn’t supposed to be very colorful. i’m going for muted tones. that’s why i picked the pale pinks and whites.”

eddie giggles a little and, it’s so cute, steve has to pinch his own thigh through his shorts just to maintain composure.

“i don’t think you’re understanding—the colors wouldn’t change much. except for some more white, if you catch my drift,” eddie pumps his hand over his cock several times and mimes cumming stop the petals, “might look cool. might get you extra points with that asshole professor of yours. you’ve said he likes ‘shock value.’”

“i—i guess you’re right. that’s a pretty….different and unique….um….idea. yeah.”

it’s like this that steve strips naked and clambers as close to eddie as he can possibly get without laying a finger on him. adhering to the rules—keeping a particular distance between artist & muse.

they lay side by side. sunlight streaming in through the blinds & bathing eddie’s spindly fingers in gold as he touches himself.

“harrington, don’t act like you haven’t been dreaming about this since day one,” eddie snarks, “i’ve seen the way you look at me, sweetheart. your eyes are gonna burn holes in my ass if you’re not careful. touch that pretty cock of yours, lemme see you.”

before steve can do anything about it or change his mind, he’s got a fist wrapped around his own cock and the other hand pinching his nipples. left and right, back and forth, dragging his nails through the hair sprouting around them.

“didn’t think you thought about me like that,” steve whines, watching as eddie edges himself methodically—

moving faster, slower, squeezing at the base, thumbing over the slit, cupping his balls, slapping the insides of his own thighs until they match the pink petals.

“i like a little pain,” he comments when he catches steve’s wide eyes, “and i’ve always was hallucinating the first time i walked into this room and saw you on the bed—thought i was going into the light and seeing an angel.”

“you’re so full of it.”

“i’d like to be full of you,” eddie breathes against steve’s neck, not allowing his lips to pass the barrier, “but i don’t know if you can handle me, big boy. you’re blushing like a nervous little schoolgirl.”

“am not—”

“are too, &, you’re about to cum just listening to my voice. it’s so crystal clear. look at you—fucking yourself so stupid.”

eddie looks so beautiful.

laying there like a forsaken god locked out of heaven.

steve’s been so good about keeping his hands to himself, about keeping his nose out of the flowers, but desire and temptation are stronger than any amount of remaining willpower he has.

he grabs eddie’s shoulder with his freehand & kisses him until they’re both seeing stars.

celestial explosions of pleasure & truth & this thing that’s been growing violently between them since the moment they first met.

“i’m cumming. i’m gonna—fuck steve, it’s gonna be on the flowers—i hope that’s okay—”

they cum in tandem over petals of pink and white and thornless stems.

steve gets an A+.

taglist (message me to be added or removed at any time <3): @estrellami-1 @disastardly @ilovecupcakesandtea @the-redthread @asbealthgn @bestofbucky @vampireinthesun @carlyv @shrimply-a-menace @lordrrascal @malachitedevil @anxiouseds @gay-little-bitch @jhrc666 @pinkdaisies1998 @perseus-notjackson @eiddets @corroded-coffin-groupie @three-possums-playing-human @stevesbipanic @plutoshelm @arkenstoned @indiearr @they-reap-what-we-sow @gleek4twd @bunnyweasley23 @livingoutload @a-little-unsteddie @novelnovella @neverlandwaitingforme @swiss-cheeze

[cwilder64-blog]

Laying upon the soft crimson sheets, in a circle of flickering candles and rays of moonlight, was the most beautiful mortal creature with tufts of golden hair and the brightest green eyes, flickering with curiosity. Her breath wavered, her chest falling as she felt the soft lips graze upon her stomach. Her corset was unbuttoned and cast aside somewhere to be sought out later. The rest of her clothing had disappeared, and she was left bare on the sheets as her arms gathered goosebumps from the breeze of the window. The room was dim, yet so well lit in the vast space only meant for them.

Her lover, an undead man with ears slightly pointed and a large array of jewelry that littered his hands was enjoying fondling the supple skin of the mortal that lay before him. A small groan elicited from his lips, his hands wandering around her legs, merely grazing the pink flesh that beckoned him. Her moans tumbled and fell, her face as flushed as the berries she had eaten moments prior, still licking the juice from her lips as she withered beneath the creature whom she’d come to care for.

The bedroom chamber from which they share intimacy was decorated in crimson, littered with candles, and the musk of cider lingered about the bed frame. Hidden behind the curtains, was her favorite place, where she often laid and was worshipped for hours, until dawn. The connection was so easy, despite their differences.

He was the epitome of a lonely but angry creature, seeking a blood lust vengeance the day he stumbled upon her beauty. Aamon was a tall and awfully attractive being, capable of things beyond that of her realm, magic lingering from his fingertips, always tracing her skin with a sick trail of lust and passion ever since they wed. He showered her with gifts, from fancy dresses to jewelry, he always wanted the best for her. And even the best, wasn’t good enough. He adored his little wife, his mortal, his human.

The fair blondes thoughts wandered away, her body thrumming with lust, flexing her toes as he settled in the apex of her legs. His body spread her perfectly. He hovered over her, dragging his fangs across the sweet spot of her neck to elicit the melody of her moans. She grasped onto his bicep as the tip of his thick cock pressed into her flesh and pushed in with the gentle sway of his hips. Her blunt nails dug into his back, biting her lip from the sting of his bite, her heart racing with passion and legs quivering around his thighs. He slowly retreated from her warm walls.

“You are the most beautiful thing in this castle,” he whispered, saying something in a foreign tongue she never quite understood. He pushed in again, watching her breasts perk, refraining from dropping saliva from his mouth. He was hungry. Hungry, for..so many things. Her legs spread slightly to welcome his large frame deeper into her womb, prodding, pulling him In.

He rested his head against hers, gripping the sheets as he pumped into her, “ignis in inguine, how I wish to destroy your innocence so that it may stay with me, as mine, forever.”

She brought him closer, gently mustering up her energy and placing her lips against his, tasting blood as he nipped at her. He licked it from her chin, merely missing the small droplets that had escaped them and dropped onto her breasts. He groaned, shaking his head, hearing the faint dangle of his chains on his ears as he thrusted himself into her cunt. The squelch of her wetness frequently filled his keen hearing as his shaft receded, dripping onto the sheets to create a pile of her arousal just like it had the first night he claimed her. His back muscles flexed as his memory plagued him, flashes of her virgin blood piling onto his bed made him dizzy with lust.

He pounded into her, slowing down momentarily to relish in how she sounded, clawing at his back as the breathy voice wavered, “How I love you, Aamon.”

He smiled against her cheek, sensing an impending orgasm to come crashing down on her, he gripped her hip and pricked at her soft skin with his claws, drawing blood. She had come to get used to that feeling, though her face scrunched up in pain. Her legs began to shake as she lifted from the bed and focused on her lovers hands on her and his wet tongue gliding across her mouth to lick up the dried blood from her bruised lips, all thanks to his fangs. She arched her back against him and held her breath before her orgasm hit her for the hundredth time since being wed to this creature. He inhaled her scent in the crook of her neck, smelling her need for him as she gripped his cock.

Hours and hours would pass with the pair like that, sometimes quickly mating again not long after the previous one had finished. She usually slept bare to him, or clad in a sheer mesh material where her numerous bite marks were on display, not that she cared, since everything she did was for him. She often walked around the castle in close to nothing, since they mated everywhere anyway, and anyone that looked at her the wrong way wouldn’t live to see the next day.

The beauty laid in his sheets, her hand resting over her face as she peered over at her monster. He was shirtless, sweaty from their mating session, and tired. Still, he looked at her like he lusted for her again. It was a need that she could never satisfy, she knew. He would want her again and again, until she had no blood left in her, maybe even then.

[fandomfluffandfuck]

i am SO here for the influx of love for “keep quiet”. that fic… S…

potentially my favorite fic of yours to exist and if you EVER wanted to temporarily put pause on pussy steve to bring back this sloppy, squirty, dumbified, pretty pussy bucky i would be forever in your debt

related to this, and this

of course, also, "Keep Quiet, Nothing Comes As Easy As You"

For reference, my ask box is no longer open for requests, but this is from before I closed it, so I will be writing for this ask.

Thank you!!

And, listen, why spend time just talking about one of those boys when you can ramble about them both?

Attempted 69, oral sex, fingering, teasing/dirty talk, etc.

Bucky is scorching hot--red-hot--from the tips of his ears aaaall the way down to his clenched, curled toes. It is redicious, how fucking lethally high the fever he's running has gotten. But he's not just flaming. Every inch of his body is a guitar string twisted and tightened to the point of breaking.

He's so fucking tense and yet so useless, too, limp like an overcooked noodle that's weak, falling apart, barely keeping it's head above the surface of the simmering water. Both. He's, yeah, he's both.

He's burning up, evaporated, but he's also just a liquefied puddle. Solid mush. There is too much sensory onslaught to track.

And Bucky can't make sense of it all, spinning and sloshing inside his empty head. He's so fucking thankful he's lying on his back, face-up with their sex-mused, sweat-damp sheets stuck to his arching, tingling back because if he were anywhere else he would be crumbling. Falling to his knees, or, worse, more embarrassingly, straight onto his face. There is no way to hold himself together when such intense pleasure flows through him like a fucking waterfall. All soaked. There is no way to hole himself together when he's consumed by flames in the middle of a firepit. Burning hot.

Bucky is quivering chaotically, uncoordinatedly, and he's moving his mouth, sloppy and fast yet slow, and he's not talking, he's barely able to rattle out moans, and he's blushing so badly from head to toe that he must look like he's been dipped in a pool of wet, glistening pink paint and he's swollen from how fucking much he's blushing, his blood boiling, and he's sensitive. Tingling. Sparkling. His blood is wreaking havoc on his body as it rushes through his veins, boiling, boiling, thick, and pumping.

Oh, god.

It's so goddamn overwhelming.

Bucky doesn't know what he's doing--he doesn't even know if he's making Steve feel good. Because. Yeah. That's right. That's what he's supposed to be doing.

He has a mission here and he's probably utterly fucking failing at it. He can't rub two brain cells together to think about how to do better, though. He is, just, consumed by this. Now. Here. Hot. Wet. Sensitive.

Steve told him he'd make him feel good if Bucky made him feel good, too. And he's trying. He's trying so hard that he's pretty sure there are tears leaking out of his eyes, but his face is also so slick and coated in the wetness of Steve's arousal that he can't tell.

What's tears?

What's dripping wetness from Steve's hot cunt?

What's the fucking difference?

Bucky can't tell if he's crying, sobbing, choking, or just using his whole face so uncoordinatedly, so unashamedly getting up in Steve's pussy that he's smeared his heated, briny wetness so high up on his cheeks that he thinks he's crying. There's sweat beading his hairline, too. He's soaking into the mattress from the perspiration seeping from every pore on his body. His lips--his mouth and his... not mouth lips--feel swollen from how long they've been at this. Overused. Licking and tonguing and nipping each other to rip out moans and gasps and cries of pleasure. Orgasm after orgasm.

Bucky spread across their bed, Steve on top of him, flipped the other way.

When he got like that, positioning their bodies just so, Steve lewdly spread his legs to expose himself from his cute, sweet swollen clit past his wet, clutching vagina to his tight, tight asshole; he's so pink and pretty and Bucky might be fucking burning, but he's also drowning and suffocating and dying a million different ways between his legs. Steve on top of him, bodily, his weight shoving Bucky down into the mattress.

Jesus.

Bucky has pressed his entire face up against Steve's pussy, diving in, and he's dying that way plus dying at how Steve is doing the same for him.

Too much pleasure.

He can't.

Steve is doing a much, much better job. Bucky is... pretty sure. He can't think straight. Earlier, he had his tongue on Steve's clit and two fingers buried in his cunt and was pulling more fucking sticky, hot, salty wetness out of him with the stimulation but at some point. Christ. At some point, Steve stepped up his game, and Bucky couldn't. He needed something else to hold onto. He needed to dig all ten points of his fingers into Steve's hips to keep from thrashing and squirming hugely, getting away from or getting more of Steve's talented mouth. He doesn't fucking know. God.

Please.

He can't.

He whines needily, stupidly into Steve's pussy, licking at him broadly to try and give some of what Steve is giving him back. It's so hard. He doesn't know what he wants; he doesn't know what he needs; he doesn't know what he's doing.

It's a stupidly pathetic and delicous display. The difference between them stark. They're both so fucking aroused but Steve can keep his cool and keep his technique, Bucky, on the other hand, can't keep a single fucking shiver from shaking through him as if it's the most devastating earthquake. Steve is curling three fingers deep inside him and sucking at his clit and Bucky feels like he could fucking burst out of his skin. Steve's pressing hotly against that spot inside him that has his vision blurring into a hot, white void of, just, need and he's sucking on his clit hard enough that it hurts. It's that bite of too much, too good pain that leaves Bucky failing to swallow down a little behind-his-teeth shriek.

Steve is too good at multitasking for this to be fair. Bucky can't help it. He can't keep up! He's infamous for going dumb during sex and he's so sensitive between his legs, just one touch, one murmur of sweet words, and he can't handle it, and Steve is too damn skilled at eating pussy and he's just--

It's not fair!

If Bucky wasn't crying before, now he is.

He is.

Crying.

"C'mon, princess," Steve pulls back only the slightest bit with a truly obscene sound. Almost a goddamn wet slurp. All that fucking wetness dripping like honey out of him, making Steve's breath against him even more noticable, his huffing feels painted on. Every word leaving Bucky quivering and exposed.

Brazenly, at the same time that Steve's voice purrs over those teasing words, he drags his three fingers out of Bucky's tight, trembling pussy and slips them up and down, up and down, up and down his wet slit, teasing him, playing with him so fucking effectively. Shit. He feels how fucking hard his clit is but also, god, he feels swollen everywhere.

He's blushing with his entire body, so how can all of his blood be centered between his legs, making him flush hot and swell with arousal? It doesn't make sense. It doesn't have to make sense. Bucky can't make sense, he can't put one thought in front of the other.

Oh, fuck. me.

"C'mon, pillow princess, baby, don't stop," Steve doesn't stop. Nevermind how he's not even out of breath, the fucker.

He's terrible. Eating pussy like a champ, dirty talking like he doesn't care about how pornographic his mouth is getting, not ashamed for even an instant, and totally merciless as he strips Bucky down.

Bucky whimpers, sucking wet, sloppy kisses down the inside of Steve's thighs clenched around his face to try and not drown. If he didn't already know Steve likes it--likes him like this, likes teasing him--he'd know now with how he's flooding him, shoved in so close to his cunt.

Bastard.

Meanwhile, Steve fucking kisses him on the pussy like he'd kiss his mouth if they were face-to-face, frenching. Filthy motherfucker. He will call him names until his eyes roll back because he's awful. And names are the best he can do. He doesn't have anything else going for him--so weak.

"Thought I told you not to stop," Steve rumbles, sliding the tease of two fingertips in him, making him really fucking feel how his hole clenches tight.

Bucky whines like he's dying because he is.

In retort, Steve slaps him; he doesn't hit him in the face or let his big, heavy hand collide with his ass, spanking him, nah, Steve's worse. Steve is a pervert. 'Cause, no fucking problem or hesitation, he's manhandling Bucky's legs apart, spreading him wide and leaving him vulnerable to the rush of cold air across his sex, and, from there, he's bringing his hand down flat and stinging across his pussy.

He slaps Bucky's pussy.

And.

Bucky just fucking squeals, his eyes rolling all the way back into his skull.

He's gone.

If he was useless before, then there isn't a word for how vulnerable and helpless and fucking dumb Bucky is now. There's no one home. He's vacant. Eyes glassy and far-away. But it isn't enough for Steve. It never is. It's not a true Rogers marathon fuck session until Bucky passes out.

So, as Steve turns around--purposefully grinding his pussy against Bucky's lazily open mouth, hanging wide, before he dismounts him, using him how he wants--Steve makes sure to arch his back, showing off his goddamn perfect ass, and settle neatly in his lap. Okay, almost in his lap. He's offset enough to grind, humid and sticky, against Bucky's thick upper thigh. Riding his leg as he unceremoniously shoves two fingers back into Bucky's cunt. Torturing him.

"Should've known better," Steve muses to himself as he fingerfucks him into oblivion. Two fingers in, fucking him good, giving him something to clench down on while his thumb is against his clit, rubbing and pressing tight enough to leave his vision to ignite into sparking fireworks. Shit. Wet sounds fill the room as the air grows thicker and more fragrant around them. It smells like sex. Like pussy. Undeniably.

"There's no fuckin' way you could handle 69in', 'course not," he smirks to himself, his accent really coming out the hotter he gets for this. "You get too fuckin' dumb. Can't even do anythin' when I'm just touchin' you. How could you have any smarts when you're getting touched and expected to touch me, too? Fuckin' pillow princess." He's all too self-satisfied because he fucking knows he does this to Bucky. Before him, Bucky wasn't so--yeah. He didn't get so dumb. It's just Steve. Steve gets all Steve, and Bucky can't handle it!

Bucky is so dumb now that he can't even argue. He can't agree, either. So, he just lays there, whimpering and pleasured so exorbitantly he can't hardly take it.

He's gonna cum again.

P.S. I don't have an ask to relate this to as an excuse to write it, so I'm just gonna fucking stick it here because why not-?

So, imagine pussy Steve getting it into his head for one reason or another that he's gonna peg the shit out of Bucky (even though pegging implies that it's a woman doing it to a man and they're both men here), like, he's gonna dick his boyfriend better than Bucky can dick him.

He's stubborn.

He's competitive.

He's... oh.

Bucky gets him a nice big, thick strap, something that will be a struggle for him to take because he's hungry like that, and Steve harnesses it on.

He puts his shiny new toy in place and he's so fucking excited that he's all wet and slippery between his legs, and he fucks in and, "OH!" He can't keep his moaning gasp in. It's just the way his clit grinds against the base of his toy. It feels like lightning cutting through him. White hot.

He was so into the idea of fucking Bucky and taking him apart but here he is, puppy panting, tongue out, shaking because every time he jerkily thrusts, it makes him wetter. He's so sensitive down between his legs, he can't help it. Every thrust is a bigger shock for him.

Plus, the sight of his strap fucking in and out of Bucky? Jesus Christ. How does Bucky ever do this, much less do it while being able to feel his dick? What the fuck?

Steve squeals when Bucky chuckles and strains to reach between his legs, cupping his wet, swollen sex in one big palm and asking, "aw, is this too hard for you? Are you too sensitive down here?"

Steve. can't. take. it.

[ladylooch]

The End of the Spiral [Lio Meier]

A/N: Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU! for all the love on the crazy ride that has been Lio's spiral. I had so many pinch me moments during these parts. I am always in awe at how incredible you all are in your support for my work! I hope you enjoy the conclusion and the new Lio 😘

Word Count: 5k

ICYMI Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4

She smelled incredible. Effervescently addictive. Like the roses in his Mom’s garden in Switzerland or the wild flowers in the Swiss alps. She has always smelled good, but tonight his senses are assaulted with her. Maybe it’s the lust. It claws at his skin, drowns his lungs and stirs him awake in places he wants to feel her wrapped around. 

“Fuck.” Lio moans into her neck, then sucks her skin. Normally, he would bite, but tonight he sucks. He needs to hear Savannah’s airy sigh as she surrenders a little more to him. Just like that. Her body weight settles heavier against him. He pulls her off the wall, licking his lips as he surveys her flushed skin. Her blonde hair poofs wildly from his hands. She grins up at him, blue eyes wide with need.

Their eyes stay connected and Lio can sense it. The way his heart beats harder in his chest to the point that it almost aches. The way his pupils blow wider at her little giggle and crinkle in her nose because she thinks he is taking too long to continue. He knows her. Unlike any woman he has ever held in his hands before. He can read her, anticipate what she is going to do next before she even thinks it. His bones ache with the belief that she feels the same for him.

Everything that once was rushed, becomes slow. Savannah’s hands come to Lio’s hips. She gently begins to push up his shirt, exposing the taut skin of his abdomen. He lifts his arms for her. The soft cotton drifts to the floor of her hallway. Maintaining eye contact, Lio brings his fingers to the zipper at the side of her hip. He pulls it down. Her skirt collects in a pool at her feet. Then, her shirt joins the other articles of clothing on the wood floor. She brings her arms around his neck, kissing him with open mouth nudges until he is lifting her by the back of her thighs. Into the bedroom they go, Lio trips over a pair of shoes she left in a haste by the door.

“I’m sorry!” Savannah laughs once he regains his balance. 

“ ’S okay.” He mumbles, laying her back on the bed.

Savannah bites her lip as Lio pulls her black tights off one at a time. He is slow, watching the black fabric like an addict as every inch of their slip gives him more of what he needs- her. The first leg slips off her foot, revealing ruby red toes. He smiles, kissing them to hear her giggle. She is so ticklish. His dimples practically piercing through his cheeks and into his mouth from smiling so wide. Fuck, he loves how she makes him feel. How effortless and warm their nights are together. Like a sacred home he didn’t think was out there for him.

Lio blinks and the scene jumps to Savannah spread out in front of him after he made her orgasm into his mouth for the first time. He can remember it clearly now. How sweet she was. How hard she gripped his hair. How loudly and proudly she moaned his name. Her breasts rise and fall rapidly, pointy pink peaks cutting the air in her bedroom. Lio kisses his wet mouth along her soaked folds, gathering as much of her taste as he can before he pulls away. His sweet girl. His. No one else’s. 

“Need you, Lee.” She whimpers, reaching for him. He laces their fingers together, then hovers over her, rubbing his pulsing head between her silky folds. He hits her tight entrance and pushes in. She accepts him completely, a dire moan extending from his mouth right into hers. Her legs wrap around his strong hips, keeping his thrusts deep. Their chests press together, mouths assaulting each other, noses colliding with each pump. 

“Oh.” She sighs, releasing his fingers. Her arms come to his back, one into his hair to tug at his brown strands, the other resting on his shoulder. “Lee, look at me.” Her hand comes to his chin, keeping their gazes locked, thumbing his bottom lip. Her blue eyes search his.

Lio takes her in below him, so blissed out on this fiery connection. His chest balloons. Irresistibly, he softens into her body, bringing his hands under her back to collect on the tops of her shoulders. He changes the angle even deeper. Savannah’s walls collapse in on him, signaling her impending orgasm. Lio fucks inside her rapidly, insistent presses into her welcoming heat at a delicious angle. Their bodies couldn’t be closer. Their gazes stay on each other’s eyes. Sex has never been this good, this addictive. He’s never missed it this much before it was over. His balls clamp tighter with her next spasm around him. He closes his eyes in ecstasy for a moment.

“Cum inside of me, Lee.” She pleads. “I want you smeared between my thighs in the morning.” He chuckles, then kisses her again.

This would be the first time for them to do that and he wants it as bad as she does. He races them towards it with his hips. She arches her back into him, breasts squishing into his pecks. He takes everything she has to give before he allows himself to have the favor returned. Hot ropes collect on her walls from his cock. He groans at how wonderful it feels to have both of them mixed together inside of the woman he loves.

In his memory, Lio collapses onto Savannah, then rolls her onto his chest. 

Presently, he lets a leather chair catch his flannel covered back. He rubs at his face dejectedly, pushing his hair back under the rim of his Swiss hockey hat. He blows out a heavy sigh, letting himself come back to the room he is in, disappearing from Savannah’s bedroom. There are college degrees on the wall, fancy bound books and plush furniture meant to create a comfortable space for you to relive the worst of the worst. 

“What are you thinking?” The man across from him asks.

“That I was in love with her then. And I am still in love with her now.” Lio whispers. He sits up. “And that I blew it up on purpose because I didn’t think I could be what she deserved. The way she looked at me afterwards….” Lio trails off for a moment. Hunched forward on his knees, his thumb pushes against his puffy, bottom lip. He had been dragging it between his teeth the entire time he relived the most intimate moment he had ever shared with another person. “I knew it would hurt like hell to lose her. So, why not lose her then? Before it got more complicated and hard.”

“What did that protect you from?”

“Nothing.” Lio clenches his jaw. “Absolutely nothing.”

“What is next with you and Savannah?”

“I’m not sure. I know what I want it to be though.” He drops his gaze to the carpet squares that have various widths of straight lines running across them. “Me and her forever.”

“Mmm, let’s end there.” The man’s measured voice brings Lio a sense of peace. So many things have started becoming clear to him. Things he had wondered and searched his whole life for now have a lens of clarity. A notebook shuts, then is set on the desk to the right.

“Great session today, Lio. You worked through complex emotions with more ease than I have seen from you in the weeks we have been working together. You should be proud of yourself. I am proud of how directly you are facing this.” Dr. Keith says as he stands from his chair, gesturing for Lio to head towards the door. “Let’s continue that next week.” 

“Thank you.” Lio says, shrugging his jacket back onto his shoulders. 

Two months ago, at the urging of Emma and Lucie, Lio started to see Dr. Keith to work through the complex issues that have brought him here. The childhood disconnects, feeling undeserving of love, and the unbearable pressure of performing in the best hockey league in the world. It is more complex and difficult than Lio imagine at first. It’s also hard. Really hard to be vulnerable and go to places he would rather not. But living the way he was before, when he almost lost everything, is a place Lio can’t afford to go back to. So every week, he sits in that huge, brown leather chair, picking at his nails and sorting through the messed up puzzle that is his life.

“You are off to the West Coast?” Dr. Keith wonders as he walks Lio towards the lobby.

“Yeah. Seattle tonight.”

“Ah. Well, good luck rejoining the team tomorrow. I’m looking forward to hearing about it next session. Take care of yourself, Lio” Dr. Keith parts with his standard message. 

With a final wave, Lio steps into the winter air, shrugging his collar up higher on his neck. Now to the next hard thing of the day, his first plane ride since October.

Lio’s struggles with post-concussion syndrome have been continuous for the last three months. He has slowly ramped back up to skating, suffering two big set backs, the last one three weeks ago. He has attempted patience, explored eastern medicine treatments too, but the reality is, just like his mental health, his physical health needs some time to straighten it’s self out. For a boost and to reward progress, the team training staff decided he should come with on the next Devils road trip. He is thrilled to be back on the road with the guys.

And Savannah. 

He has seen her a lot the last few weeks. It’s strange. He wondered if he would see her less, but it turns out being out of the game means more face time with her. He has found many ways to capitalize on it. Like earlier this week, he found her curled into a seat in the stands during practice. She had been on her phone, not seeing him sneak up next to her. He tapped her shoulder, watching as her long, blonde hair cascaded down her back when she turned to look.

“Hi. Thought you could use some coffee.”

“Oh, thanks! I forgot my cup on the counter this morning and the vending machine coffee is not doing it for me.” He hadn’t known that, but is pleased with his good timing. He hands the white cup over. She takes a sip, then sighs contently, rolling her shoulders inward as if to snuggle with herself.

“You remembered my coffee order?”

“Yeah.”

“Why?” She laughs, surprised.

“Because you said it matters to you when people remember the little things.” Her sculpted eyebrows dash up in curiosity.

“Like coffee orders and favorite flowers?” She ponders.

“Peonies are an excellent flower choice.” He responds, then looks back to the ice, taking a sip of his drink. The silence between them is filled by skate blades, pucks and sticks. Savannah takes another sip of her coffee too, then turns more towards Lio.

“That flower shop down the street from my place must have stopped selling peonies. Haven’t had any mysterious deliveries since last Spring.”

“Nah. The sender just realized this wasn’t only about him.” He keeps his gaze on the ice, biting his top lip. “Maybe the recipient didn’t want to be reminded of him every week.”

A few days later, him and Savannah had caught the same elevator down to the locker room. There had been some water collecting in the hallway outside the Zamboni tunnel. Savannah’s heels slipped on the water, but Lio caught her before she landed hard on her butt. Her fingers had gripped his arm tightly, reminding him of before. When she was breathless beneath him and needed something to anchor her to the world. 

He wants to be that anchor for her again.

The way she had looked at him still sends shivers down his spine days later. He can still imagine her finger prints pressing into his bicep too.

When Lio gets onto the plane that afternoon, the boys are pumped. He is high-fiving and fist bumping his teammates. They’re dealing him into the poker game the minute they get the all clear after take off. It’s a long flight out to Seattle and Lio has some sense of normalcy returning as they all talk and shoot the shit. 

Savannah is in the front of the plane with management and the coaching staff. He doesn’t see her the whole flight, not until he files onto the bus with the rest of the team. She is dressed in black dress pants, a light blue sweater and silver boots. She smiles at him politely as he passes her. Lio stops. Clarity for what he needs to do next smacks him in the face as if he is in the middle of therapy having an ‘aha’ moment. He turns back around, apologizing to a rookie as he steps out of the aisle. 

“Savannah?” Lio calls to her quietly. 

“Lio?” She responds. He feels his limbs turn to goo hearing his name fall from her lips. He steps forward another row, then sits down in the seat across the aisle from her.

“Have you ever been to the Starbucks Roastery?” A line forms on her forehead.

“No?”

“Would you want to go with me tomorrow?” Savannah licks her lips, looking to the front of the bus with wide eyes. Two more players pass between them as Lio awaits her answer. If she says no, it might kill him. 

“Ahm.” Savannah looks back at him, searching his face. “Sure. Yeah.” 

“Great. I’ll um, see you there tomorrow? At 9?” She nods, blinking and looking away when the coaches come on board. Lio stands, then walks back to his spot on the bus. Several teammates give him weird looks. He doesn’t care. He’s waited long enough to have this conversation with her.

It’s not going to get any easier. He knows nothing about the hard part is over. 

All of that waits him tomorrow.

- - -

Surprisingly, it is Savannah who is first to arrive at the roastery the following morning. Probably because Lio spent over an hour staring at himself in the bathroom, saying his jumbled thoughts out loud. The problem with preparing this is he has no idea what her response is going to be. Lio has several things he wants to say to her. Firstly, to apologize for his horrendous and irresponsible behavior. Second, to tell her he loves her like he should have months before this. And third, to accept the consequences of his actions. 

Even if that means he leaves the same way he enters: alone.

He heads to the counter, seeing Savannah already has a cup in front of her. He orders a cappuccino, then waits for it to be set at the end of the bar before he heads over to her table.

“Hi.” He says shyly as she curiously looks at him settling into his chair.

“Hi.” She smiles. Lio is so nervous. This is not his hotel bathroom. She is a living breathing person who holds his heart in her hands across the table. One word and she could crunch him back into the black hole he barely made it out of. No, he can’t let that happen. He has come too far.

“Thanks for coming.” She nods, then crosses her legs under the table. 

“Is this my intervention?” She quips, sensing how nervous he is. Lio swallows hard, trying for a light laugh. It comes out like a honk.

“Um, no, maybe mine though?” He sighs. He nervously flicks his eyes over her face, pausing at her full mouth. “Sav.” Her eyes close when he says her nickname. Hope blossoms in Lio’s heart. “There is so much I’ve been wanting to say to you.” 

“After all this time?” Savannah points out bluntly.

“Yeah…” He trails off, looking down into his cup for a moment. “I never felt like the time was right.” 

“That is an excuse, Lio.”

“It is. You’re absolutely right. But I’m so sorry about what I did. I recognize how late this is, but I felt you deserved this. I don’t expect anything from this. I understand that some things can’t be mended, shouldn’t be mended either. If our relationship is one of those things, I accept full responsibility for that.” He looks down at the table and sighs heavily. “But…. Selfishly, I need you to know that I am in love with you.” Their blue gazes connect. Savannah visibly shutters and straightens. “I could see a whole life of us together. I want that. But I understand if you don’t see a future for us or want one with me anymore.”

Savannah drops her gaze from his, rubbing at the print of her lipstick on the coffee mug. Lio stops, trying to gather more courage. But Savannah starts talking.

“How do you know that you love me now?”

“Because I loved you then. In your place, that night we made love. When you trusted me that I wouldn’t let anything happen to you.” Lio swallows hard. “Then I let you down. You gave me your heart and I dropped it. I hurt you and did inexcusable things afterwards, thinking running away would save me. I am so sorry.”

The look on her face when she showed up at his apartment crosses his mind. 

You’re hurting me, Lio.

A wave of nausea passes over him. Fuck, how is she so good? Too good for him. His inner demons begin to spring to life, whispering dark words of his undeserving character. Flaws on flaws while she sits there willing and attempting to understand. 

“Loving me is one thing, but how do I know this won’t happen again?” 

“I won’t let it.”

“How? What will stop you the next time you’re freaking out? You haven’t done this before, Lio. There are going to be so many more moments where you’re going to be faced with fight or flight. How do I know you won’t run?” 

“I just won’t. I’m going to stay. I’m going to grab your hand and pull you in and say I’m scared but we are going to do this together. You’re the only person I want to do life with. It’s why I told you everything this summer in Switzerland. I needed you to know what I was going through and the baggage I am still bringing to the table now. I’m not perfect. I will fuck up again. But I’m going to stay.” He shakes his head. “I hope that’s enough for you. I understand you’ll have to decide if it is.”

“I think you’re wrong.” She extends out the last word while shaking her head. Lio’s heart jolts out of his rib cage and into his throat. Then her teary blue eyes meet his. A new slash scrapes his heart at seeing her so visibly upset. “You keep saying old you and that you’ve changed, but to me, you’re still you, Lio. This is who you are. Those times? It didn’t feel like you. There was so much pain and turmoil in you that night.”

“Don’t make excuses for me.” Lio whispers.

“I’m not. What you did wasn’t okay and it was shitty and you’re right, it really hurt me. It hurt you too.” She nods, then brings her pointer fingers up to collect her tears in the corners of her eyes. “But you were in a dark place. You didn’t love you. I knew you couldn’t love me either. Or whoever that was in your apartment.” 

Savannah looks away, blue eyes gazing out to the wet Seattle street. She tucks her bottom lip into her mouth, crossing her arms tighter over her chest. The lights of the coffee shop bounce off her blonde highlights and the blush along her perfect cheek bones. Anxiously, Lio takes a small sip of his cappuccino. He waits, not expecting what she says next.

“So I have to ask you, do you love you now? Because you said you love me, but do you love yourself?” Lio contemplates, then slowly nods.

“I do. Even the part of me that hurt you.” Suddenly, unexpectedly, Savannah grins. She stands up, crossing the foot of distance to grab Lio’s face. Then she kisses him. Lio is so taken aback, it takes him a moment to realize what is happening. But then he acts. He turns in his seat, knees bumping into hers then he tugs. She falls onto his lap and he rushes a hand through her hair. His other hand goes to the small of her back, pulling her as flush to him as she can get. 

“I love you, Lio.” She murmurs, fluttering kisses along his mouth, up his nose, to his forehead. Lio’s eyes stay closed, long after her kisses stop. Savannah’s airy laugh rushes along his face. “Lio!”

“I don’t wanna open my eyes in case this is a dream.” 

“It’s not. It’s real life. Happening right now. A hot woman who wants to make out with you more is on your lap.” Lio opens his eyes, then brings his hand to the back of her neck. This time, Lio kisses her. He drags his tongue through her mouth, gathering as much of her taste as he can get. Savannah rocks forward with her hips and Lio startles. “Sorry.” She smirks, not at all sorry about what now settles between their hips.

“Now what?” She whispers to him afterwards. 

“I don’t know.” He shakes his head. He puts his forehead onto her sternum, resting his nose in her cleavage. Her fingers card through his hair, then rest on the back of his head. 

“I can’t wait to figure it out with you.” She sighs, resting her cheek next to her hand in his hair. 

The dizziness Lio has felt for the last 9 months halts. In it’s wake is a sense of peace and the warmth of Savannah.

This is what he had been fighting for. Through the darkness and the crippling loneliness, this is what he had been going through the ringer for. The light at the end of the tunnel. The sunshine of a new, purposeful life that he is worthy of.

And it is finally here, arriving right on time, packaged up in a petite blonde who he will keep safe for the rest of his life.

“Sav?”

“Hm?”

“I love you.”

“I love you too.”

- - - 

Red and white lights swirl on the glassy surface of the ice in front of Lio as he sprints out of the home tunnel. He’s back. Finally back after months and months of clawing from the bottom of concussion hell. He was cleared to practice last week and with no set backs again, he was cleared for contact and is making his storming return. 

Lio feels good tonight. He knows he has a goal or two in him.

He does his first lap, purposefully keeping his gaze on the ice as always. Then his third lap, his eyes trail along the glass. There they all are: his parents, his siblings, Lucie, Mack, Stella, and the love of his life Savannah. He slams his stick right on Savannah’s chest as he swirls by, laughing at the way she jumps out of her skin. He feels her playful glare across the ice as he slips a puck into the top right corner. He grins at her as he comes back around. He stops suddenly, spraying snow onto Stella. She squeals then presses her small palms on the glass. He double taps them then grits his teeth at her as she roars back at him.

“Ooooo you so tough, Stelly!” He calls. Stella frantically pats at her mom’s arm. Lucie helps Stella take off her jacket. Stella spins, showing the back of her Devils shirt has been bedazzled with Uncle Lee and 96. Lio puckers his lips and Stella blows him a kiss back. 

During the game, he feels the energy of the crowd as they cheer for him every time he touches the puck. Electricity courses through his veins with the desire to produce for his team. Two goals back to back end up in the net. He just misses an empty netter for the hat trick, but the team gets their two points, which is all that matters to him.

He is quick to undress, knowing he has a pack of people waiting for him to visit with after the game. His hair is still a little wet as he runs his fingers through it before putting his shirt back on. Savannah is outside the locker room when he comes out. She steps backwards, away from another front office member towards Lio. She grips the buttons of his shirt with her fist then tugs. He falls down onto her lips. He smiles into their kiss, loving such public affection from his new girlfriend.

“Good game, stud.” 

“Thank you, babe. You still coming to dinner?”

“Of course. Give me like fifteen. I’ll come down when I’m done.” She kisses him again. Lio gets bold, brushing her butt with his fingers, then begrudgingly dropping his hand. She smirks. Mmmm, she wants him to continue those wandering hands later. Lio pulls his suit jacket back on his shoulders as he walks towards the family waiting area. 

He can’t help but smile when he sees them all. They’re laughing, all listening to Liv speak while Stella spins and spins and spins in the center of the group. She is off balance when she sees him, gripping Lucie’s leg to stay balanced. Then she sprints to where he is. He crouches down, picking her up and tossing her up high into the air. He catches her effortlessly, then tucks her into his chest for a hug.

“Hi good luck charm.” 

“Hi!!!!!!” He can smell the cotton candy on her breath. He kisses her cheek then sets her back down. She runs back to Lucie, spinning around through all the adults to continue being the center of attention.

He gives hugs around to all of his family members, the only one missing being Connor. He is on a road trip in Dallas right now, but Lio had a text from Connor after the game.

Glad that didn’t happen against my team. Happy for ya. Love you. See you next week 😈

Ah yes, they play the Rangers again for another battle. This time, David won’t be getting the best of him.

“We should head out to make our reservation.” His mom says after glancing at her watch. She steps forward, kissing his cheek. “I am so proud of you, Lee.” 

“Thanks, mama.” He murmurs, hugging her close. His dad steps forward next, clasping him into a tight hug. Lio smiles, sensing his dad is feeling emotional when he grips tighter to Lio’s shoulders. Of course he loved and wanted Lio. How couldn’t Lio have seen it before when this is how his dad has hugged him his entire life?

“Proud of you. For more than just the game tonight.” Lio nods in agreement.

“I have the best big brother.” Liv giggles, throwing her arms around his shoulders. He squeezes her back tight. The only one who didn’t leave him during all of this turmoil. He hasn’t been in the past, but he’s going to be the best big brother like she deserves going forward.

The only two left with him are Lucie and Stella. 

“You coming?” 

“I can’t. Someone has to get this one to bed.” Lio nods in understanding. “You looked great out there tonight.” Lucie murmurs. “Not just as a player, but as a man. You seem at peace.”

“I am. Thank you… for everything.”

“Besties for the resties.” She snickers. “Come over for breakfast Sunday? Bring Sav. Con will be home.”

“I don’t think we can make it.” The Devils have the next few days off and he plans on locking her in his apartment. It’s the first extended off period since they reunited in Seattle. 

“And here I was complimenting you for changing. You’re still a whore.” Lucie smirks.

“I have changed. I only do that for one woman now.” Lucie laughs, then leans forward so Stella can give him a hug.

“Bye, Stell. Thanks for coming to my game.” 

“Bye Lee Lee.” She sighs, closing her eyes tightly as she clutches her mom’s neck.

Off Lucie goes in the direction the rest of his family went. Lio puts his hands in his pockets, then turns towards the Devils locker room area. Coming down the ramp of the arena is his gorgeous girlfriend. Her light tan heels clack the concrete as she types fast on her phone. Her pass and blonde pony tail bounce buoyantly with each step she takes. Lio smiles wide, watching her approach with feasting blue eyes. She nibbles the inside of her cheek, then pushes her blue light blocking glasses up her nose before resuming her furious texting. She is almost going to walk by him, but he steps in front of her. She stops suddenly, hands hitting his chest as he encloses her in his arms to keep her steady.

“Hi!” She exclaims. “I need my coat from upstairs, then we can go.”

“I’ll come with you.” He entwines their fingers, then they continue her trajectory together. They gather her jacket and purse from the press box area. Lio holds her coat up from behind so she can glide her arms easily in. Savannah chuckles as Lio gathers the end of her pony tail out from the collar.

“Someone needs to tell the press how soft this man has become for a woman.”

“I’ll do an on-the-record interview right now.” 

“But if we’re on the record, I can’t do this.” She grabs his suit jacket, pulling him down to her. Her tongue strokes his between his lips. He sighs happily.

Yeah, he only messes around with one woman these days.

But what a woman she is.

[femmefatalevibe]

how do you get monica belluccis vibe (with short wavy hair)?

Use nourishing shampoo/conditioner with a leave-in, anti-frizz conditioner. Let your hair air-dry

Apply ultra-nourishing facial moisturizer to the skin with SPF

For makeup: Use a satin-finish foundation with medium to full concealer underneath to cover imperfections; apply a golden brown bronzer as a contour and a pearly-highlighter to the cheekbones& high points of your face if not oily (tip/bridge of nose, cupid's bow, chin, middle of forehead); Fill in your brows so they look full but natural with a match brow pencil/powder shade; Create a grey-brown smokey eye with a golden bronze/taupe eyeshadow as a base on the lid with a smokey grey in the crease and black shadow on the outer corner(if desired); Apply a thin layer of black liner to the top of the eye with a subtle, classic wing and to the water line/tight line (inner rim); FInish off the lips with a matte or satin finish pink-brown lipstick (or a "your lips but better" hue)

For clothing: Tailored black wardrobe staples in high-quality fabrics – sharp wool/leather/silk blazers, crisp moto jackets, Pima cotton tops or silk camis/blouses, cashmere/leather bodysuits, tailored straight-leg or bootcut black trousers/denim, black slip dress/bodycon knit or heavy-fabric dresses, long tailored black coats in wool, leather, or silk with accents of black lace/red/leopard print

For accessories: Statement crystal, pearl, or classic chunky necklaces with sleek black heeled boots or pumps with a pointed or almond-shaped toe, black tights & hosiery

[redfoxwritesstuff]

Sunflower, Book 1, Chapter 25

Tom Hiddleston x OFC Series rated: M Chapter warnings: Flashback smut AN: Just a splash of my daddy issues, so sorry about that. I swear, I'm trying to keep it under control! Enjoy the last fluffy chapter before the angst really starts to amp up. Sorry not sorry. Masterlist AO3 KoFi

~~~~~<3

Tears gathered in Mia’s eyes as she looked at the little bit of magic Tom had worked. Mia had always felt guilty that she couldn’t give the big parties Sally would see on the TV and often she was too tired or too broke to even do a lot. Again and again, she told Tom to go small. Simple. Easy. 

She took comfort in the fact that the first few birthdays, kids don’t remember beyond the stories they’re told and the pictures they see. She wasn’t sure kids remembered their 5th birthday parties either but Tom had put in the effort to make it special, even while toeing the line of her request. 

Purple and pink balloons reflected the sparkling water. There were bottles of sparking juice and a handful of plastic champagne glasses, making the small party child fancy. Tom had pizzas, one peperoni and one cheese on each side of the bottom of a foam cooler upside down over what she assumed was the birthday cake. 

Tom was sitting on the edge of the pool pumping up the last of the floaties and for a moment, time froze and Mia’s heart skipped a beat. The strong sun shone on his bare back and arms, casting shadows in the dips of his defined muscles. His hair was alight with it, golden reds highlighting every wild curl in his short hair, stealing her breath away more than the definition in his back as he moved about comfortably. 

This was the man she married in a act of drunken stupidity. No, perhaps not stupidity after all, if she closed her eyes and indulged her heart. What if, just maybe, marrying this man three weeks ago was one of her life’s greatest decisions?

This was a man she could fall in love with. God, did he make it hard not to just fling herself headfirst in, reckless and trusting. It was hard to remind herself the importance of taking things slow when she saw him like that, sitting at the edge of the pool and blowing up kid’s pool toys as if it was the most important task of his life. As if it was a part of his life. As if he belonged. 

He was the father Sally deserved. God, if she could just give Sally this man as a father. If she could somehow change the fabric of reality and make this the man that fathered Sally,Mia would. That wasn’t possible but she could give him to her now, if she just was willing to take a risk, willing to trust.

Tom was a person though. There was no way she could force him to stay, no way she would want to if he wanted to leave. But fuck, if this could be their lives, she wanted him to want to stay. What if she tried and he left? What if Sally got to have this, really have it, and then lost it? What if it was her fault? What if she wasn’t a good enough woman to keep a man like Tom?

“Tommy!” Sally broke the moment, saving Mia from a lifetime spent in a single heartbeat and whirlwind of ‘what if’s. “It’s so pretty!”

Mia looked away from the way Tom smiled at Sally, directing her attention to her phone as it pinged in her hand, thankful for the distraction. Again, she texted Ray to see if he was coming on her way down.

“Fucking calm down” the message read, sent from her daughter’s father. He was a man she had once loved, who she had thought loved her at one point. “I’m on my fucking way.”

He was in a bad mood but that wasn’t unusual for him. He was always in a bad mood during the last few years or so. Mia was just thankful he had answered, if she was honest. It was rare that she could give Sally the gift of time with her father. This time, at least for her birthday, it looked like it was going to happen. 

“Sally will be so excited” Mia sent back. 

He didn’t respond. 

“Is Daddy coming?” Sally ran over as Tom reminded her that walking feet were important to use around the pool. Tom looked over to Mia with worry clearly etched on his face. 

“He said he’s on his way.” Mia said and in her gut, it felt like the wrong thing to say.

“Anything I should be aware of?” Tom asked, wrapping an arm around her waist and hugging her to him, a calculated risk he decided was worth it after the time spent at the ranch. 

“What do you mean?” His hand was cold from the pool water, causing goosebumps to cover her skin. It felt good seeping into her skin through the robe, cooling the skin heated by the desert sun. 

“Do I need to be worried about him trying to knock my head off or trying to drown me in the pool?”

Mia gave it a big of thought, “Don’t know, to be honest. We’ve never been in a situation even close to this before.”

“Lovely.” Tom’s voice came flat, though is fingers twitched against her waist. 

“You’ll be fine,” Mia patted Tom’s chest, trying to ignore the feeling of the sun warmed skin and firm muscle under hand while she laughed. “I’m sure you can out run him.”

“In this heat?” Tom teased as he gave her one last squeeze before returning to the pool.

It felt good to laugh together. To celebrate together. To be together.

Mia hesitated near the pool, watching as Sally and Tom splashed eachother. They were quickly becoming the picture of a family and it was magical to watch it happen. Sally deserved this. 

For Sally, Mia decided, she needed to invest in this marriage as much as Tom was. 

“Are you going to get in?” Tom asked after resurfacing from a dramatic splash induced water death. 

“Yeah, I just-”

“Mom’s shy.” Sally giggled. “I don’t know why, she’s so pretty.”

“She is pretty,” Tom agreed, nodding wisely to the small girl floating on the inflated unicorn next to him before making his way toward the steps of the pool. 

Rising out of the water one step at a time, water ran off of his chest and abdomen. Streams of water gathered to run down the valleys between muscles as her eyes followed. His hair was dark with water, plastered to his head. As he rose out of the water, his trunks clung to his hips and-

Yeah, she needed to pay attention to where she was and that the water was nice and cold. Stop looking at the man like he was a goddamn piece of meat. She was not some nineteen year old girl who’s not been around the block a few times. 

Keep your eyes on socially acceptable places. This was real life, not some romance movie. Keep it together. 

Tom was close to her now. She could see the scattered hairs on his chest. Was he feeling the same things she was in that moment? Was he thinking the same sort of thoughts looking down at her? Her heart was beating out of her chest. Was his?

Reaching out, Tom placed his hands on either side of her neck. Long fingers curled around the back of her neck and the pads of his thumbs rubbed against her jaw, spreading blessed coolness into overheated skin. His pinkies slipped under the silk fabric of her robe. 

Was he going to kiss her? Would he do it right there, in front of Sally and anyone who happened to pass by?

Slowly, Tom’s hands ran down her neck and over her shoulders. She was captivated by his eyes. As the neck of her robe expanded, pulling open she absently untied the belt. the silk fell away from her in a whoosh as Tom’s hands reached the curve of her shoulders. She caught the robe in her hands as it fell and just stood there, lost in the spell of his eyes. 

“There,” His voice was thick, like something had caught in his throat. “Now you can get in the pool.”

When Mia was slow to get moving, Tom seemed to return to life. He grabbed the robe from her hands as she slowly gathered it up. Balling it up, he tossed it onto a poolside chair. 

Without much warning or even giving himself a chance to over think things, he scooped her up in his arms. A squeak of shock captured Sally’s attention and then the little girl was cheering them on. 

Mia reflexively threw her arms around Tom as he descended the steps slowly. Realizing how much of her skin was directly touching his skin, she let go and tried to put distance between them. 

This did nothing but shift her weight, almost toppling the both of them into the water. Feeling herself becoming unsteady, she grabbed onto him again. He carried her down the steps as if she weighed nothing in his arms. 

It shouldn’t have surprised her, she saw his build. 

Tom enjoyed the feeling of having her in his arms. Her skin was hot against his water cooled skin. The contrast felt dizzying.

“You’re too hot.” Tom said, not realizing until after the words left his lips the double meaning. 

Instantly his face began to feel hot and he had very few options. Somehow, he thought falling forward with her in his arms into the pool where the shallows dropped off into the deeper water was the best response to the situation. 

Mia surfaced sputtering water. Her brown hair was soaked, hanging awkwardly in the hair clip that had been keeping it off her shoulders. Tom surfaced a moment later gasping for breath. He didn’t have a chance to wait for a potential wrath or catch his breath before Mia was splashing him. 

“What if I couldn’t swim!” She was laughing even as she voiced her outrage.

“I would have saved you.” His words came in short bursts between mouthfuls of water she flung at him. 

Sally was an equal opportunity attacker, armed with a squirt gun and a unicorn steed to escape on. She had no allies, she had no partners, and she took no prisoners in her aquatic attacks. 

Such a brutal attack left no other option but for the adults to join forces and take down the small tyrannical dictator of the pool, filling the air with splashes, water and the musical sound of a family at play.

They played for a rather long time before dragging themselves out of the water for pizza and drinks. Some other kids had joined them at complex pool, giving Sally other victims for round two of the master of the sea. 

Mia stood, robe hanging from her elbows mostly forgotten as she checked her phone for what felt like the hundredth time. Sally was distracted, laughing and sharing pizza with anyone who joined their mini party.

“Any word?” Tom asked, resting his hand on her back as he came up beside her. 

“No.” Resisting the urge to throw her phone, Mia simply locked it and placed it face down again. “He said he was on his way an hour and a half ago.”

 ~~~~~<3

Sally was tired when they finally made their way inside, carried by her mother. Tom made easy work of the few trips needed to bring what remained of the cake and presents inside. Mia was thankful for the additional hands, Sally alone was getting far too big to be carried home. 

For today though, she would carry her little girl as far as she wanted. Five years old now, Mia could hardly believe it. This little girl had changed her life and been with her through some of her most challenging times. She was Mia’s world. 

For Sally, Mia would burn the world down if needed. For Sally, Mia would give the world on a plater if she only asked. 

It killed her that there were things she couldn’t give her daughter though, things she deserved more than anything.

Ray never did show up. Mia wanted to believe something happened to him. Perhaps a car accident on the way? Maybe he was in the hospital, phone lost or destroyed? That would be better than knowing that he just decided to not show up to his daughter’s birthday party. Again. 

~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3~~~~~<3

They moved together, chasing the release they both so desperately needed. The sound of skin slapping together filled the room. The bed springs sang a song of primal lust, accompanied by the music of their gasping moans.

Tom’s fingers bunched into a fist, catching her hand in the process. He held onto her as his wife clenched around him, driving him on, pulling him deeper. 

Close. He was so close now. He could only hope that she was there with him as she gasped in pleasure, arching against him. Her walls fluttered around him. He moaned deeply as begging pleas for more fell from her lips.

She was his. His wife. His new life. His new everything. 

She was his. 

Finally, he had someone. Finally, he was enough for someone. 

Finally. 

~~~~~<3

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[simination]

Rita Wombo'o, Fenty Hair launch - Windenburg, 21st of august 2024

The beauty was lady in pink yesterday as she wore David Koma long dress (patreon) by @strangercreations with @jius-sims' Metal pointed toe leather pumps in the almost same shade. Jewels by Murphy-sims (Seprent rings) and @jius-sims (Asymmetrical gold earrings). Hair by @azertysims (Klortz).