#should get smacked to fall asleep

[bi-writes]

hmm im thinking about it being the first night simon stays over, and you show him how to take off his makeup. (18+)

he looks tired. you stand in the kitchen, loading the dishwasher with the remnants from dinner. you don't want to spend time washing the full sink, you just want to sit next to him and soak up the warmth of him--you had missed him, and all you want to do is curl up next to him and nuzzle your face into his mask and finally get him into your bed, under your covers.

he's never slept over. he's always been adamant about that. always lacing up his boots after the movie, kissing you through the mask after a warm date, tucking you in when you get too tipsy and leaving water by the bedside table. he always goes, and even if he comes back in the morning, he always makes sure he does not stay over.

even when he fucked you the first time--he waited until you fell asleep, and then he left, and he came back in the morning with breakfast, but you knew he went home because he smelled fresh and he was wearing different clothes.

but tonight, he's staying. because you finally asked, and how could he say no to those pretty eyes? to that sweet little pout?

the distance, he was always trying to maintain it. but it was useless. you are not temporary. there is no end date. he can't keep letting you linger at arm's length.

you're soft and sweet, and your cunt is the same, and when he isn't thinking about being cock-deep in you, he's dreaming of your soft voice and your pretty smile and the tender way you kiss him and the way you hug. the all-encompassing, enveloping way you put him at ease. his rage builds, and one look at you, and it is gone.

as if it never mattered in the first place. as if it was never there at all.

so he agreed to stay. his bag sits heavy in your bedroom, clean clothes inside, and his toothbrush is in the same holder as yours in the bathroom. he lingered on it when he had put it there; two versus one. he never wants to see his toothbrush alone ever again.

he blinks awake when he feels a warm hand on his shoulder. he's still wearing his army fatigues, black cargo pants and his windbreaker, the skull balaclava tucked under his long sleeve to hide any skin. his holsters are still around his thighs, but they are empty, and his vest is on the floor by the door, where his boots are. he feels your warmth even through the layers, and he leans towards it without thinking.

you kiss the side of his head, cupping under his chin gently.

"tired, simon?" you coo softly. "'s alright. we should get you in bed. been a long day."

"mm...olright," he murmurs, and you look up at him as he stands, and he towers over you, making you feel small, but safe. he's a bear, and he's yours, and he's staying.

you take his hand gently, and he follows you. you stand side-by-side in the bathroom, and you smile at him in the mirror as he unzips his windbreaker, revealing the hoodie underneath. his eyes meet yours, and he winks, and you smile wider, especially when his hand falls, smacking your ass nice and firm.

"wot, luv? somethin' funny, yeah?"

you shake your head and laugh, and then you reach for the headband in the drawer, slipping it over you as you prepare to wash your face. you slip a few products out onto the counter, and your mouth goes dry when simon grips his mask from the back of his head and pulls it completely off.

he is so handsome. his nose is crooked; he's broken it a few times, that's for sure. there's a scar deep across his face, jagged over his lips, and you've felt it when you've kissed him before, but it's jarring to see it. there's a few more across his other cheek, along his forehead, and you break out into nervous giggles as you meet his dark eyes. the eye-black around his eyes has shifted with the fabric of the mask and with sweat, but he still looks hot.

really hot.

you swallow hard and turn the sink on, wetting your hands. simon reaches to do the same, and you watch as he brings his wet hands up and starts to wash his face. immediately, the eye-black just smears, and he has to move more over the sink as he continues to wash.

"simon?"

"'s olright. just takes a few minutes for it to come off."

you smile, "here, i...let me help."

he turns the water off, wiping his face on his sleeve, and you giggle when he looks into the mirror and realizes all he's done is smear the black across his cheeks. he laughs with you, deep and gravelly, and you reach into the drawer and pull out two bracelets made of absorbent fabric.

"give me your hands," you say softly, and he does, and you slip the bracelets over his wrists. "keeps the water from running down your arms."

"fuckin' annoyin' when it does that," he grumbles, and you smile. you reach across the counter, opening a small jar.

"it's called double cleansing. you take this balm--" you get a dime-sized amount onto your finger and you put it into his hand, "--and then you rub it into your hands until it becomes...kinda oily. it'll take off all of...that--" you motion to the black streaks along his face.

"oi, are y'on the piss?" he laughs, "it'll take it oll'off?"

you giggle and nod, "yeah. try it."

he rubs his hands together, warming up the balm, and then he reaches up and massages it into his face. you watch, biting back more laughs, when he realizes how much easier the eye-black moves, coming off onto his hands. when he washes it off, it's nearly gone, and then you give him a dollop of face wash to help rinse the rest away. he dries his face on a towel, grinning in the mirror, and you hug his arm gently as he takes the bracelets off.

your eyes meet again in the mirror, and he smooths his hands down your waist, moving you in front of him, leaning over your and putting his face into your neck. he warms the skin there with soft kisses, and you laugh, buzzing with delight.

"you're so beautiful, luv," he growls in your ear, and you close your eyes.

"you're...y-you're beautiful, too, simon."

"yeah? come off it."

never. you'll never come off whatever high you're on now. you reach up and hold onto him, as much as you can grab, and you close your eyes as you kiss, his lips on yours, something hot in your chest and something soft in your insides.

you hold onto him tighter. you will not let go.

[emmyrosee]

NO WAY I HAVE A THOUGHT HOLD ONN

I just saw this TikTok of this girl that has a bf w a lot of tattoos and she gets this colourful eyeshadow pallet from her makeup bag to COLOUR IN THE TATTOO if u get what I mean like the tattoo could be like a butterfly or a dragon AND SHE COLOURS IT IN WITH HER COLOURFUL EYESHADOW PALETTE and omg I IMMEDIATELY thought of SUKUNA it’s be such a cute interaction 🥹🥹

-Anon🥢

GOD THIS IS SO CUTE-

——

Sukuna naps. More than he should.

He can fall asleep anywhere and everywhere, for long stretches of time that you should be concerned with, had he not been doing it since the beginning of your relationship.

Your first date was not worth paying for a movie, candy and popcorn, when he merely slept the whole time. You could’ve done it for free at home.

Regardless, here you were, repeating history as he snores loudly next to you, his arms crossed as he sleeps soundly, lips parted to let out small little huffs. You sigh and grab your phone to scroll, no longer interested in the movie without having someone to talk to about it.

The first thing to pop up, has you smirking, with a girl shading in her boyfriends tattoos with eyeshadow. Granted, sukuna doesn’t have shapes of tattoos, but he has plenty of tan skin to cover.

You squeal and run to grab your palette and a brush, suddenly more excited than you realized to color in your boyfriend.

You start with a gentle touch on the circle of his shoulder, dipping into a peach that looks enough like his skin tone if he were to wake up.

When he doesn’t, that’s you’re cue to keep going. It doesn’t take long before he’s absolutely covered in pigment.

The small bit of skin between the tattoos on his chest are quick to be colored in, your brush gently dusting over his skin to apply the color. His face twitches but ultimately, he stays asleep. You deem him out of it enough to straddle his lap, allowing you more access to his tattoos and tanned skin, nearly laughing as he stays asleep, arms laid limp at his sides.

Bright pink blends into bright purple in the gaps of his tattoos, and in the gap of skin below the ink, mint green turns to light blue. You smile and clean your brush with another swirl on a paper towel, dipping into a lilac color and swirling it on the slender bit of skin on his bicep above the skin not needled with ink.

Your brush trails a tad too close to under his arm, and he scrunches his face and shakes you off. You pause, holding your breath, but you’re out of luck as he screws his eyes tight and grunts in exhaustion.

“Whyre you tickling me?” He grumbles, stretching awake and smacking his lips together. “I’ll kill you. We’ve been over this.”

“I’m not,” you hum, pressing a kiss to his cheek and brushing a lock of hair off of his forehead. “How was your nap?”

“S’good.” He rubs his eyes with the heels of his palms, and when he blinks his eyes open to look at you, his brows furrow at the colorful eyeshadow palette on your lap, “you doing some makeup shit?”

You sink your teeth into your lip, “uhm… kind of?”

“The fuck you mean kind of? It’s a yes or no-“ red eyes fall to his arm, face flat as he eyes the colors splashed over his body, some blended in together, others just solid colors filled onto his skin. You laugh nervously as he continues to look down at his torso. “So, you want me to beat the shit out of you?”

“No,” you giggle. “I wanted to make you prettier.”

“I’m already pretty enough, don’t use my body like a damn coloring book, you freak.” He stretches his arms out, brows furrowing as he sees the full extent of your coloring, “fucking- how mUCH EYESHADOW DID YOU USE?”

“Not a lot!” You defend. “It’s a pigmented palette.”

He glares at you, “and you’ve got the nerve to ask me to buy your fuckin’ makeup when this is the shit you pull!”

“You’re the one who fell asleep in the middle of the movie!” You whine, shoving his chest gently. “I needed to entertain myself somehow!”

He catches your shoving hand into his big one, and you gulp nervously, “I’m old. I sleep a lot. This ain’t news.”

The fact he hasn’t yelled at you tells you everything you need to know, and you grab your brush again to continue. “Hey! I’m scolding you, dickhead!”

“Im listening,” you assure, popping the brush into the yellow and moving to the other tattooed circle on his shoulder. “Youre old, I know, you like sleeping, I know-“

“That was not an invitation for you to keep coloring!” He hissed.

You look back up at him though your lashes, pouting subtly, “aw, jeez- fuck you, you know that?” He snarls, and when you blink at him, he rolls his eyes and sits up to be nose-to-nose with you. “Stay out of my armpits. Do not color my face. And so help me, if you take any pictures-“ when your pout deepens, his lip curled into a snarl, “fuck you. ONE. picture.”

“You’re the best!” You mewl, peppering his face with tiny kisses. “The best boyfriend anyone could ask for-“

“Shut up and keep coloring before I change my fucking mind.”

[softspiderling]

chaotic (and a little silly) pogue reader who never fails to surprise rafe with her dumbass hot takes, even like a year into the relationship.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

sometimes you get extremely specific cravings and immediately have to get them. you wake up fairly early in the morning, rafe's arms around your waist, pressed into your back, his breath tickling your neck as he sleeps.

"rafe"

no reaction.

"rafe."

you pinch his bicep and he groans, burrowing even deeper into your side.

"sleeping. 's too early."

"i'm hungry"

"let me sleep in and i'll buy you anything you want for breakfast.... later."

“i don’t need you to buy me anything,” you insist, wriggling in his arms, “i just need you to let go of me so i can get out of bed and get some soup.”

rafe groans again, not loosening his grip around you and you start to think that he fell asleep again, before he lets go of you, huffing and puffing. you press a kiss to his cheek, before you get out of bed.

“can’t even sleep in peace” you hear rafe mutter as you pad to the bathroom to go do your morning business, before heading to the kitchen downstairs.

it doesn’t take long for rafe to get up again, not having been able to get back to sleep now that you’re gone. he’s also not sure if he heard you correctly, wanting soup for breakfast, but figures that he probably dreamt it. after taking a piss and brushing his teeth, he goes downstairs, hearing you tinkering in the kitchen. you’re sitting on the counter, knees up to your chest as you are eating out of your bowl.

“morning baby,” he sighs, kissing your head with a smack and going to make himself a coffee.

“morning grumpy”

rafe rolls his eyes, turning the espresso machine on, before he pauses, turning back to you.

“… did you say you wanted soup for breakfast?”

“I did,” you answer, pouring some more cereal out of the box into your bowl. “i am.”

rafe stares at you, a little slow. he hasn’t had his coffee yet. “what?”

“cereal… breakfast soup.” you continue on, unperturbed, as if you just haven’t said the most insane thing rafe’s ever heard.

“you’re eating cereal,” rafe repeats. “cereal’s not soup”

you lift your head, a frown on your forehead. “cereal is soup. it’s a liquid dish and you eat it with a spoon”

rafe blinks, because you’re definitely not right, but somehow you’re also not wrong, and he’s not quite sure what to say, so he just sighs and turns back to his espresso machine. as the ground coffee falls into the portafilter, he runs a hand over his head, turning to you over with shoulder with narrowed eyes.

“you should hang out less with jj, i feel like he’s starting to rub off on you, and i’m not sure if i like that.”

you only snort into your soup.

✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦ . 　⁺ 　 . ✦

[gilverrwrites]

Man, I need something with Jason's big hands, so big that one hand can cup your entire sex...

He will smack your clit, cup your sex, you'll grind on it and he will do something while cupping your lady bits.

I can live off of your body heat

Jason Todd/Reader, 2.4K

AN: I've actually had mutiple req for Jason and/or Dick slapping and pinching the readers clit which is like so specific, but I get it. Like I feel yall so much. I know Jay being a giant is fanon thing, but goddamn my 5'4 ass wants to be crushed by his hands so bad. CWs: Mentions of Jay's scars, swearing, size difference, Dom!Jay, teasing, Jay being really rough, nipple play, clit pinching, clit slapping. Petnames: Baby, babe, babygirl, good girl, Name-calling: Filthy girl, bitch, slut. Recommended listening: Body Heat - Kate Nash

There’s a scar on his chest. Actually, there are many scars on his chest. However, there’s one in particular that stands out; a long taut piece of skin that stretches from his left shoulder blade, right down to his sternum. Its pale sheen stands out against his tan skin and begs you to trail a finger along it.

Despite the temptation, you don’t.

Jason hasn’t slept this well in weeks so you daren't risk waking him yet. Instead, you watch the gentle rise and fall of his torso under the mellow light of the morning sun until the need to move is too great.

Your feet have barely touched the ground when a pair of sturdy arms close around you, enveloping you in the warmth of the very body you’d just been admiring and pulling you back into the bed. Or more, pulling you on top of his body, primarily by his choice, partially because there isn’t enough room for you both to lay without some overlap. Every time you mention buying a larger bed, Jason vetoes it; says he likes the close proximity. That feeling your body against his helps him to relax and you can’t really argue with that sentiment.

“Where’d you think you’re going?” He asks from the spot in the crook of your neck he loves to nuzzle into. He peppers the side of your neck with sleepy half-kisses.

It would be endearing, were his hands not already under the oversized Red Hood tee you’d stolen from him to sleep in.

“Oh, I don’t know.” You hum, hands wrapping around his wrists, purely for additional skin-on-skin contact. You couldn’t stop him from ghosting his calloused fingertips up your body if you wanted to. It’s strange, and arousing to think that he can, and has trapped both of your wrists in with just one hand.

“You don't know?” He’s rousing properly now, amused by your answer.

“Probably just to shower, make a coffee, maybe read a book until you wake up.”

“I’m awake now.” He reminds you, rolling his hips to emphasise his double entendre. The heat of his mourning wood grinds against your backside, and at the same time, one of his wandering hands finally settles on a target. He cups the underside of your breast, and you can’t help sucking in a breath as he pinches your nipple between his thumb and forefinger. Already so brutal, despite the slow, sensual way he’s been exploring until now.

You sigh in relief when he lets go, allowing just enough time for the blood to rush back before he clamps down again, this time in a twisting motion that has your hands shooting up into his hair. “Jay!”

He seems unaffected by your attack on his scalp, chuckling into the tender spot behind your ear, and causing a chill to run down your spine. “Yeah, baby?”

“You should be asleep.” You’d intended to deadpan for comedic effect, but it comes out in short, strained breaths that only serve to make you sound needy as hell.

It’s at this point you hear a snapping sound, followed by the light sting of your underwear’s elastic waist snapping against your skin, drawing your attention downwards just in time to feel Jason cupping your entire sex in just one of his hands. All the while he never stops the assault on your now raw tits.

“Do you want me to stop?” He questions. At the same time, he palms your folds through the fabric of your underwear, pressing the ball of it against your increasingly aching clit.

“Feels nice.” You sigh, letting your head fall back against his shoulder, allowing him further access to the sensitive skin of your neck which he eagerly accepts, honing in to suck and nibble, sloppily leaving marks in his wake. You don’t want to back down, but God, you do not want him to stop.

“Come on baby, I need a real answer. Do you want me to go back to sleep?” He eventually circles back, lips barely leaving your flesh as he speaks. Distracting you from the erotic sting of your nipples and the heat between your legs as his rugged fingers push all the right buttons. “Or do you want me to keep playing with your cute little pussy?”

“Fuck, Jay please- “ You’re ready to give in but as you speak he hooks two fingers under the crotch of your underwear, and the resulting, embarrassingly wet squelch that sounds out as he presses them between your folds has you hissing.

“Please what?” He goads, now upping the pressure. He’s doing it on purpose, cause he’s a fucking tease. “Please stop?”

“No! Please don’t stop touching my cunt!”

“Your cunt? You’re fucking filthy, girl. You know that?” He plants a quick, hard kiss on your cheek and, as if you weigh nothing, lifts you by your pussy, repositioning you for his own ease until your legs are stretched wide, his own wedged in between to keep you in place. The speed at which he moves is enough to give you whiplash. You barely have enough time to gasp at the retraction of his hands before they’re on you again, settling in new positions. With one hand he completely pulls aside your panties, exposing your hot, soaked folds to the tepid air. The other pulls your tee over your head before cupping the back of your head, forcing your gaze downwards. “Don’t move. I want you to watch everything I do to you. Can you do that for me, baby”

Shit. You think your heart might beat out of your chest. All this vehement energy so early in the morning. “Yes, Jay!”

Immediately contradicting yourself, you turn your head to admire his handsome profile. The determined squint of his eyes, the bed head, the morning stubble, you really lucked out with him you think as you lean closer to kiss his cheek. Before you can make contact Jay's grip tightens on the back of your head, sharply turning you back to watch as he dips two long fingers between your slit. Your clit practically twitches at the sight of them; long enough to span from top to entrance in excess.

You try your hardest to watch as he repeatedly strokes your lips in short, lazy motions but it’s a challenge not to close your eyes and get lost in the moment. It’s even harder not to throw your head back and scream when he suddenly sinks his fingers around your clit and starts pinching, it. Tightly rolling the sensitive bud between two curled fingers.

“Shit, Jay.” You pant through gritted teeth. “That hurts so good.”

Just like with your nipples, what feels even better is the rapid return of blood flow when he releases it. He repeats the process twice over, laughing every time you flinch or whine. Whispering in your ear about how you’re his “good girl”, how “you can take it” every time you dig your nails into his arm in an attempt to relieve the pain.

“Help me out here babe. Spread your pussy out for me.” He instructs, playfully gasping into your ear when you pull back your lips to reveal your now dark and swollen core. You’re too turned on to care about the sight of it. Happy to expose yourself, certain that the moment he starts kneading you with care, you’ll cum in seconds.

Jason must be thinking the same as he dips one finger into your entrance, just enough to coat it with your arousal before returning to your puffy clit to rub around it in circles. Even at twice the size, your clit is smaller than the tip of his finger.

“Ohh, I’m gonna cum soon.” Before you’ve even finished your sentence Jay retracts his hand, ripping a distraught weep from you in the process. You’ve been here a hundred times before, splayed out for him, gasping, and begging for his touch, but the red-hot shame at your flagrant desperation never eases. “What the fuck, dude!?”

“Dude?” Without warning, Jay comes back down. Hard. Your whole body shakes under the intensity of the vicious slap he delivers to your clit. “Who the fuck are you calling dude?”

He doesn’t give you enough time to answer before he smacks your open folds again. Flipping the switch in your body from heady to adrenaline-filled arousal.

“Say my name.” He barks as he dispenses a third slap.

“Jay!” You don’t have it in you to say his full name, but it seems to satisfy.

“Say it louder.” His words are punctuated by the lewd echo of sharp, stinging strikes. “I want the neighbours to hear what a dirty fucking slut you are. Want them to know who you belong to.”   

“Jason. You Jason!” You close your eyes and throw your head back, crying with everything you can muster, not caring how raunchy or pathetic you sound. Ignoring the pain of your own nails digging into your flesh. “Jason. I’m yours, Jason.”

“That's better.” He growls. Finally, his arm falls slack. With no friction from your dripping, wanting walls, Jason glides two fingers into your entrance and you tremble, your whole body tingling, ecstatic to finally feel him inside you. It’s just two fingers, two impressively strong, thick fingers that make you feel so full. “You’re so beautiful, you know that?”

Abashed by his sudden gentleness you open your eyes once more, positioning yourself to look at him as best you can. He’s one to talk. You’re always telling him he could be a model if he decided to quit being a part-time crime lord, part-time crime fighter.  

You’re unable to concentrate on him for long, however, as he starts pumping in and out of you in torturously slow thrusts. After all the excitement, it quietens your mind and eases your muscles. For the first time since he’d repositioned your bodies, you notice the pressure of his cock, pulsing against your lower back. The rigged hardness of it makes you feel fuzzy and content at his equal levels of arousal.

You stay like that for a few minutes, simply enjoying the calm as Jason gently massages your insides until it’s not enough. You need more, your body yearns, your core practically twitching for his touch on your clit again. An orgasm is approaching steadily, but you’ll get nowhere without it.

The heel of his hand is so close, so sturdy, you don’t even think about what you’re doing, you just start undulating your hips, rutting up against him in unstable motions. He doesn’t stop you; in fact he curls his fingers and brings his palm down closer, letting you use him to chase your orgasm.

“That's it, baby. Hump me like a bitch in heat.” He coos so softly in your ear that it would set your pulse racing if it wasn’t already running at a mile a minute. “Remember I'm the only who does this for you, the only one who can make you feel so full and cock drunk on just my hands.”

He's right, he's so fucking right.

“Keep that up, I might just cum too.”

“Fuck me.” You breathe, affected both by his words and the reminder of his throbbing dick squeezed between your bodies.

“Not until you cum on my fingers.” He’s only half joking. “Can you do that for me baby, cum all over my finger like a good little slut?”

Fuck yes, you can. You want to say, but all your energy is focused on riding his hand, fucking yourself on his brawny fingers, and gyrating against his palm like it's your job. His groans and rasps become a motivational mantra as you keep bucking your hips.

“You’re nearly there.” He comments, able to feel your walls tightening around his digits, convulsing uncontrollably as it hits you. It takes all your strength to ride it out; to keep going as you topple over the edge but fuck it’s worth it for the full extent of your release. “That it babygirl, cum for me baby, fucking soak me.”

Worth it for the explicit sound of your wet cum streaming against Jason’s hands, for the rush of ecstasy that bleeds through your body, and especially for the unexpected heat that spreads across your lower back in spaced-out intervals; Jason's own ejaculation seeping through his boxers and dispersing on your skin.         

Simultaneously, you both grow limp, breathing in time with each other until the rapid movements of your chests begin to ebb back to a steady pace.

“You were so good for me, I’m so proud of you.” Jason praises as he rolls your bodies onto their sides, never releasing you in the process, but allowing him a better ability to press a smattering of kisses to the side of your head, lingering along your jawline. You're grateful for his sweet words, but still too fucked-out to speak, but you coo when he lifts a hand to run his thumb along your neck, presumably checking out his earlier handy work. You arch to get a better look at him, and given the subtle, but smug smile on his face, you’re certain he’s left quite the mark.   

“Let me guess.” You find your voice. “It’s not just the neighbours who’ll know who I belong to?”

“Hmmmm.” He tilts his head and puckers his lips in mock consideration. “I think you should donate all your scarf.”

“Jay!” You punch his shoulder, and he has enough decency to play along, briefly leaning back as though you could even make a dent on his towering frame. “Is it really bad?”

“No. No no no.” He’s lying through his teeth, snickering as he leans in to crush your lips with his own. His skin is slick with sweat you realise when you reach up to gently grasp his other shoulder and guide him closer to you. His morning breath is frankly kind of gross, but yours probably is too. Nevertheless, it’s a price you’re willing to pay for his affection.

“What do you wanna do now?” He asks when he pulls back from your mouth, continuing to press kisses down your neck, along your collar, and slinking closer to your chest with each brush. He asks some variation of this same question everytime you fuck. Letting you direct how much you can take from him in one go or what kind of aftercare you need.

“I don’t know.” You hum, imitating your earlier indecision, as you stretch against the mattress. “Shower, coffee, and a book still sounds good to me.”

“Sounds very good. Mind if I join?” He’s not actually asking, that much is evident as he lifts you in his arms and cradles you against his chest as he stands. You’ll both be grateful to get your sticky, cum soaked underwear off. You’ll be even more grateful for the chance to lather and massage your boyfriend up in soapy bubbles, to really get your fingers on those pretty scars that call to you. Maybe you can convince him to take a nap later when you’re curled up on the couch, reading together.

“Wouldn’t have it any other way, Jay.”

[yayll]

~ a little something about waking up next to Dazai, and he's unbearable as always ~

"I might just eat you alive..." He mumbles to himself, barely audible. His eyes are half-lidded, and he's barely blinked.

He's been watching you sleep next to him curled up like a kitten for the past hour, way past the time you usually wake up. He's the oversleeper, not you, and it makes him hyper aware of your bodily functions and if they're okay. He hasn't eaten properly in days, but you don't need to know that. He's rabid, and he knows he's being a total freak right now, but who will worry for you if not for him? He must rise up to be the voice of reason, the watchful eye that keeps you on track even if he can barely keep himself alive! He wishes you'd stay forever, where he could avoid his problems and take care of your every single need. He should be everything you need... He hopes. Then you'd never leave, and he would make sure to eat more, just for you. How perfect... selfish.

God, he just wants to crawl inside of you and make you his home, it's almost pathetic. You'd find him vile for the things he would do for you and your happiness, despite you already being so accepting of his dark past... You're simply heaven sent. He takes a deep breath, and lightly runs his knuckles down your jawline, as if carving them out of the precious material that you're made of. You begin to stir, and his pupils dilate instantly as he pulls back with anticipation.

"Mmm... Osamu..."

You murmur sleepily as your chest rises up and down ever so slowly. He's freaking out. It's bad for his health to hear the way you say his name as if it were a healing oath, a spell that only works on him.

"Wakey wakey~"

Dazai's propping himself up on one elbow, a calculating smile plastered on his lips as if he were in on something you weren't. You pop open one eye, and groan softly.

"You're up... early"

"Yes!"

"Why..." You yawn like the silly little thing you are. He gasps in mock offense, clutching his chest.

"Can't a fortunate guy like ME just be happy that we both live to see another beautiful day?!"

He winks, and boops the tip of your nose, this gets a muffled snort out of you that causes you to bury your face into the pillow. He's addicted to the rush of causing any joy in your life, it's disgusting. When you don't lift your face back up, he scrunches up his face, and reaches out to stroke a strand of your silky hair, but his intrusive thoughts win and he tugs on it as payback for possibly falling asleep again. He needs your attention, and you're sleeping? Insanity. You swat at him, blindly smacking his arm away.

Oh, how he loves that you're the only person who truly sees him past his myriad of theatrics.

"Oh my... a slap from you feels wonderful!"

He rubs his arm, and grabs the hand that swatted him, bringing it up to kiss the pulse point on your wrist. Feather like kisses, almost undetectable... until you lift your face up from the pillow, finally.

He gazes at you as he rubs his face onto your hand like a cat greeting its owner, purring as if he were starved for affection. For a moment, his gaze becomes more serious, detached, as if he were thrown back into a distant memory. He can't describe the feeling, but the way your hand feels against his cheek is a warmth he hasn't felt in ages. His eyes sting, and he blinks the wetness away before you can notice as he hears your angelic voice again. He's back to his usual self.

"Osamu... You're being annoying"

"You think I'm just annoying?~"

His voice comes out in a tender whisper, his mouth curled up into a mischievous grin. He's insufferable. He could be anything for you if you wanted it. Especially annoying! He almost drools when you roll your eyes affectionately at him, the coldness in his heart disappears as he leans in just a little, invading your personal space as always, eager to hear your reply.

"Amongst other things, yes..."

You flash him a sweet little smile, and it mends all that is wrong in the world. The pink in your cheeks is starting to turn red, and it sends him to the moon. He hums, slowly nuzzling himself into the crook of your neck, it's his turn to curl up. You run your fingers through his messy hair that tickles you, feeling the warmth of Dazai's breaths against the back of your ear.

"Hmm, do I look like a pillow to you?"

He can hear the smile in your murmur, and he pulls back from your neck briefly, peering at you through his messy bangs, those intense hazelnut eyes demanding your attention, and his voice drips with an aching devotion that oozes like honey. he moves his lips to your ear, and whispers.

".. You look like an angel to me."

He watches you self destruct at his painfully smooth delivery of a compliment, and secretly rewards himself for once again giving you another reason to never leave. He's got it all!

Romance, self deprecating humor, an inability to properly process his emotions and grief, but more importantly, an undying commitment to stay alive against all odds so that he may see another day of you in his arms... or you helping him change his bandages... or-

He's cut short by you grabbing the sides of his face and pulling him into the most sinfully delicious kiss known to man, and he could swear that despite all his efforts, this might be what ACTUALLY kills him.

[verdenz]

HI! so I just read the one where they are drunk and doesn't recognise their gf and itis so damn cute

Could you do pierre and yuki??

And perhaps a morning after? Where they finally see where they are and gf saying that was cute??

HE'S DRUNK AND DOESN'T RECOGNIZE YOU.

FEATURING:⠀⠀George Russell, Yuki Tsunoda, Oscar Piastri, Pierre Gasly.

OTHER PARTS:⠀⠀Part one for context. Part two.

AUTHOR'S NOTES: ⠀⠀I'll soon make a separate part/post for the morning after. <3 Also, sorry this isn't really good, I wrote it in the middle of the night and I wasn't awake enough, I guess.

୨୧⠀⠀⠀GEORGE RUSSELL

When you had to pick up your boyfriend from the party, you expected anything but for him to be so drunk that he couldn’t recognize you. Maybe it was just the bad street lighting, or just too much alcohol in his system, but it was still... well, surprising.

Even though he couldn’t recognize you, he was quite calm when his friend told him that you would drive him home.

On the way, though, he suddenly turned serious. "Listen, miss, I don’t think it’s right for a woman to drive me home. I have a girlfriend, and I don't think this is right." You can’t help but laugh, asking him what his girlfriend would prefer. “I should walk."

It was adorable how, even while excessively drunk, he still thought of you and your feelings. You looked at him through the rearview mirror, smiling. "Oh, actually, she’s the one who asked me to take you home. It’s dangerous to leave someone like you wandering around alone."

୨୧⠀⠀⠀YUKI TSUNODA

As you help him into the car, he suddenly stops and looks at you seriously. “You’re not my girlfriend, you’re a decoy! She’s testing me, isn’t she? Well, I won’t fall for it!”

You took a deep breath and smiled, trying not to get stressed, even though you were already irritated enough from being woken up in the middle of the night. "Ok, and what would your girlfriend do in this situation?"

“She’d probably smack me for being dumb enough to trust a stranger. So, no offense, but I’m keeping my distance,” Yuki said, smiling proudly at his reasoning. His friend swallowed hard, looking at you.

After several minutes of trying to convince him to get in the car before attracting more unwanted attention, he finally gave in and agreed.

As you start driving, he turns to you, dead serious. “Listen, I’ll go with you, but there’s no funny business, got it? I’m in love with my girlfriend, and nothing you do will change that.” You hummed, trying not to laugh, and he nodded, satisfied. “Good. I just needed to make that clear. You’re welcome to drop me off, but that’s it.”

୨୧⠀⠀⠀OSCAR PIASTRI

When you finished talking to the party’s security and returned to where you left your boyfriend, you found him talking to his friend, who was trying to get him into the car. “I can’t do it…” he says stubbornly. “My girlfriend will have my head.”

His friend sighs, “That’s your actual girlfriend, dude!”

He looked at you, squinting as if that would help somehow. He shakes his head sadly. “No way. She’s too... perfect to be at a place like this. And she said she’d stay home."

“And how do you plan on getting home, Oscar? Come on, I’ll give you a ride.” You tried to convince him, knowing there was no way to make him recognize who you were, at least not when he was in that state.

He stands up straight, smoothing his clothes. “Thank you for the offer, miss, but I can’t accept a ride from you. My girlfriend wouldn’t approve. She’s very particular about who I associate with.” He gives a slight bow, smiling politely. “I’ll just walk home, if you don’t mind.” He takes one step, wobbles, and nearly falls over.

“So... Do you want to wait until he falls asleep on the middle of the sidewalk, or do like a quick kidnapping?” His friend asked, watching your boyfriend, who had barely walked a meter and was already leaning against a wall, trying to keep his balance.

୨୧⠀⠀⠀PIERRE GASLY

As you approach him, his friend calls out, "Your ride's here, Pierre." You could see in the poor man's eyes that he was tired of dealing with your boyfriend for the night.

"No way! This is a trap. Some paparazzi paid you, right? You want a scandalous photo of me with another woman! My girlfriend will never believe this." He pointed at the two of you.

You glanced at his friend, who just sighed and walked over, dragging him into the car. Whoever was passing by would probably think it was some kind of kidnapping, but luckily, anyone passing was just as drunk as your boyfriend, if not more.

Pierre tried to struggle, despite not having much energy left for it. You held his hand before he could undo the seatbelt for the fourth time. "Stay quiet, or I'll tell your girlfriend that you drank more than you should have."

[tootiecakes234]

Random Big Three One Piece NSFW Headcanons:

(I’m DEEP into my one piece era)

Luffy

First and foremost he loves using his devil fruit powers on you. Will stretch his fingers that little bit further inside you or expand his dick to fill you just that little bit more.

Honestly I feel like he has a high sex drive considering his high drive in every other aspect of life.

At the beginning he is all about his self satisfaction but over time he learns how to be a more generous lover.

He has a huge appetite and I feel like that carries over into eating you. He eats all of you. You also have to teach him to kiss cuz in the beginning he acted like he was chewing on a piece of jerky😭

Will do a swift little aftercare but he only cuddles when he is going to sleep. He can’t sit still for too long otherwise.

Zoro

Loves coming home from a mission that almost killed him! And before he’s even fully healed, sinking right into you. Chopper (who along with the rest of the crew can hear your “activities” ) tries to tell him to take it easy but no!

He also likes to touch and hit on you in front of Sanji to make him jealous. He’s not even the biggest fan of PDA but he does it cuz he knows it gets under the chefs skin.

Really likes smacking his dick against you whether it be your face, your cunt, your tits. Loves when his precum splatters all over you.

This man loves to record and critique the video afterwards. Mostly himself tho. Also learns what you seem to like most and what you don’t. Improves his technique for next time.

When he’s tired, he lays back and makes you do all the work. Teases you when you cant keep it up and takes forever to take mercy on you and help out.

Sanji

Sanji’s favorite thing in the whole world is feeding you a good meal, running you a warm bath, rubbing you down with a moisturizer while giving you a massage and then fucking you nice and slow till all either of you can do is fall asleep in each others arms

Baby boy is so obsessed with everything that is you. You breathe on him in a certain way or look him in the eye a second too long and he’s hard.

He 100% strikes me as a lady should never be down on her knees” type. But he only says that shit to be courteous. If you do tho, he’ll put a pillow down underneath you to put your knees on. Or he’ll ask you to do it while he’s laying down so you can lay between his legs.

Sneaks you onto the deck of the ship to eat his favorite meal underneath the stars.

Sanji is so vocal. Asking how you’re feeling, telling you how good you’re doing, and just generally whimpering and moaning in your ear.

[psychedelic-ink]

𝐑𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐒𝐇

pairing: joel miller x webcam model!f!reader

genre: no outbreak AU, explicit smut, minors dni

word count: 9k

summary: Joel, only now starting to feel the impending sense of loneliness, decides to listen to Tommy and sign up on an online streaming service called Ravish.

warnings: joel is bi in this, sex toys, paddles, nipple clamps, pillow humping, self-spanking, female/male masturbation, piv, dirty talking, possesive!joel, cum eating, oral (female receiving), size kink

additional warning: alright so there is a short moment in this where reader smacks herself with a paddle that has a heart-shaped hole and gets a heart mark on her skin, I don't use any descriptions (like calling it red or pink etc) but I'm also not oblivious enough to think everyone would get a mark when getting spanked so I wanted to let you know in case that would put you off and wouldn't want to read and that's completely fine!

a/n: this definitely ended up being longer then it needed it to be bfgbfg I want to take the anon who requested this, and the rest of you who chimed in and voted on the polls. I hope you all enjoy 💜 oh, also a special thanks to @missredherring who gave the idea of a more in-depth reason as to why Joel likes honeysuckle flowers 👀

edit!!! this has more than one part now! click here for the masterlist

Joel was lonely. 

He hadn’t really thought about it until Sarah went off to college. 

Since the day she was born, he had one thing and one thing on his mind only—to give his little girl everything that he could and make her happy. The rest didn’t concern him. He didn’t really care about dating, he didn’t have the time to think about how lonely he was. He had been on a couple of dates, all of which were initiated by Sarah as she entered her teenage years, pleading with him to go out and have a life.

But now that she was gone, studying what she always wanted to study and being happy, the emptiness began to spread like a nasty infection. Every creak and groan of the house sounded like mockery to him. He started keeping the TV open all night, most of the time falling asleep, only to wake up in the middle of the night startled by sudden shouts from a randomly playing film or show. He hated it. This wasn’t how Joel imagined his golden years to be like. 

Maybe that’s why he decided to use the damn website. Ravish. He’d heard it from Tommy first —which was an uncomfortable conversation as one could imagine— and after that, he kept on hearing the name. 

Ravish 

Ravish 

Ravish 

It was like a shitty pop song, stuck between his teeth like toffee, impossible to get rid of. The name made a home in his brain, making its presence known whenever he was doing anything, no matter how mundane the task was. 

Ultimately, he gave in. What was the worst that could happen? 

Joel groans. He stares at the screen with his brows drawn tightly together, the text cursor blinking as it waits for him to type out a username. It’s been almost ten minutes. A brief thought of asking Tommy passes through his mind but he quickly pushes the thought away and leans over the keyboard. 

JMiller. That should be alright. He doesn’t need anything fancy, and J can be any name. It can be Jack, Jacob, Jonathan, John, Jeremy. There are a bunch. Besides, Miller is a pretty common last name, so if someone asks if he's JMiller, he can just deny it. Not that anyone would. Everyone would be too busy jerking off to pretty people. The last thought anyone would have would be of him. 

He quickly decides on his password and he’s immediately overwhelmed. There are too many things happening at once. His eyes widen, heart beating a bit too fast as he moves his mouse around. In the corner, there’s a little pop-up begging for his attention, and on the screen, there are multiple thumbnails of women and men. When he drags his mouse over a thumbnail it starts moving and he jumps. 

“Holy hell,” he mutters. “I’m in way over my head.” 

Joel gets up to pour himself a glass of whiskey. After that, he sits on the couch again and takes three deep breaths. The ice clicks together as he takes a swig, the amber liquid pleasantly burning as it goes down his throat. He looks around some more, looking for the profiles that pique his interest the most. 

While he scrolls, he sees one of a man with the username NicolasCageFreak, which he finds odd, but the man is pleasing to the eye with soft brown curls and natural honey highlights in between. The man has a small bullet vibrator pressed against his hard length, a cock ring at the base of it. Joel presses like and saves it for later. 

Joel has to remind himself a couple of times that the people who stream can’t actually see him. The more he scrolls the more relaxed he feels. There’s a woman with pretty green eyes he saves for later and another man with the username CammingBravo. He has his face hidden, Joel can see the red ribbon circling the back of his head as he bends over, granting the viewers a delicious sight of his ass that has a shiny buttplug. 

Liked! Added to your queue for later.

Until now Joel was fairly certain he was straight, sometimes he’d get the occasional same-sex dream but he figured everyone did at some point in their lives. He’s not so sure anymore. 

Some more scrolling and Joel starts getting restless. His cock strains against his sweatpants, aching for his rough touch. He takes a deep breath. The next live stream he sees that he likes he’ll click and that will be that. He’s starting to get worked up and, unlike NicolasCageFreak, he’s not a fan of edging himself. 

Then he sees her. A woman wearing a delicate chain vest with rhinestones that sparkle whenever she moves. His eyes flit to the username; Honeysuckle. He loves that flower, he has many memories of picking them with Tommy and sucking the sweet nectar hidden inside. He wonders if she tastes just as sweet. 

Not one to break a promise to himself, Joel clicks on the thumbnail. His eyes are instantly drawn to the live chat. There are so many people asking her to do something all at once—Jesus Christ. There are also a couple of them just chatting as if they were friends with her. He sees that everyone calls her Honey, which is fitting and a bit on the nose, he thinks. 

Noticing that he has the stream muted, Joel unmutes it, a pleasant tingle running down his spine as soon as her voice comes through the speakers of his laptop. 

“Wow, Eric47 I’m so happy you got that promotion!” 

“Don’t worry everyone, I’ve been thinking naughty thoughts all day and I’m ready to put on a show.” 

“Patience everyone.” 

“Thank you for buying a private chat, SarahBelieves! I can’t wait to be your good girl. . .” 

Joel is too focused on her tone, the smooth lilt of her voice, to hear the words she’s saying. The only thing his ears pick up on is the words private and chat. He wasn’t aware you could buy some extra time with the streamers. He loves that—

He shakes his head. Loves? Is he already planning on paying? At the thought, his cock twitches with interest, his reserve quickly crumbling to the floor. 

Joel decides to focus on the stream first. He can decide later on if he wants a private session or not. He cups himself through the soft fabric of his sweatpants, groaning as a spike of relief shoots through him. His eyes are glued to the screen. Honey’s hard nipples poke through the chains, her hands delicately kneading the tender mounds as she rises slightly by lifting herself onto her knees. She’s on a bed, wearing black panties and a matching garter. Joel’s mouth waters. The things he would do to her. . . 

His tongue pokes from between his lips, soft tendon moving with muscle memory as he thinks of eating her sweet cunt out. 

“Today my sweet bees,” she addresses them. “I was thinking of fucking myself with the biggest dildo I’ve got, how does that sound?” 

Joel’s eyes drift to the chat. Everyone seems to be cheering and asking her to show them how much she can take. There’s also a bunch of them calling her their favorite size queen. She chuckles. 

“I love all dicks, in any shape or form,” she purrs. “I’m just in the mood for a bit of pain.” 

Pain. That captures Joel’s attention. It makes him curious about all the other things she might be into. Perhaps she enjoys getting spanked, or she would enjoy the feeling of someone dragging their nails down her pretty back. He wants to know. He wants his imaginary scenarios to be as accurate as possible. 

He’s about to pull out his cock when he hears her voice again. 

“I do have one question though,” she says innocently. “Should I keep these pretty black panties on or off?” she grins into the camera, her eyes shining with mirth. “Let’s see those answers, my bees.” 

What do you want? Joel wants to ask. But this isn’t that kind of scenario so he thinks. The answers come flying in, there’s a fifty-fifty ratio. Joel’s mind blanks for a moment, the corners of his lips twitching. He wants her to keep them on. He likes the idea of her sliding them to the side and fucking herself deep, it feels more animalistic, more raw. He enjoys the idea of claiming someone, a curiosity he hasn’t yet fully explored yet. 

He types exactly that. His wording and grammar a bit too neat compared to the rest, but he gives Honey his answer. He wants her to keep it on. Maybe play with herself some more until the fabric is basically see-through, then she can fuck herself with the biggest cock she’s got. 

Joel watches intently as her eyes go over the live chat, there are so many answers coming in, he doubts she’ll see his comment. Still, he likes to believe she’ll see it. 

Honey’s eyes still briefly, hunger swirling in them as a canine sinks into her bottom lip. Her smile is bashful and shy, much different than the character she’s playing. Her eyes move back to the camera. Joel watches her breasts as her chest heaves, nipples grazing against the cool metal. 

“Well, well, JMiller. . . you certainly have a mouth on you,” she tuts and Joel’s eyes go wide. The satisfaction he feels leads to goosebumps coursing over his burning skin, being noticed. . . it’s surprisingly thrilling. “Are you new? I haven’t seen your handle before.” 

Joel swallows, his hands shaking as he types in a quick “yea”, Honey smiles, “Welcome to the hive then, baby. Keep the comments up,” she sighs, cupping both her tits. “I love a man who knows how to dirty talk.” 

A knot forms in his throat, his skin tight. He wasn’t expecting to be this affected. Now he understands why so many people enjoy live streams. They don’t see you, not actually, but still, it almost fills the void. Almost. He’s excited now, eager to type in more of his thoughts, eager to hear her answer him. Joel pulls out his cock, the waistband of his sweats hugging his thighs. He gives himself a firm tug, his spine straightening at the burn gathering in his lower stomach. It feels fucking good. 

“Since it’s J’s first time, and because he got me all hot and bothered, why not leave the panties on for this time?” Honey says. Joel observes the chat, there are a lot of congratulatory messages addressed to him, welcoming him. He doesn’t care. “You want to see these panties soaked, huh? You guys know how much I love making a mess.” 

Honey shimmies back, revealing more of her bare legs. She spreads them for the camera, the soft sound of delicate metal filling the air whenever she moves. Her fingers start to move lazily over her clothed clit, her head falls. Joel can see a subtle dark patch growing, his own hand starting to move slowly up and down his throbbing cock. A drop of precum dribbles down, easing the glide of his rough palm. She doesn’t look at the chat as frequently as she did before, too focused on her pleasure. Her glossy lips part and her eyes scrunch up. Her moans are loud and breathy, signs that she lives alone. 

Joel doesn’t think as he fists himself. Normally when watching porn he would think; he would think of a scenario, or what he would be doing differently, or the things he would want to do. This is different. He’s just watching, inhaling what’s being given to him. He sucks a sharp breath, his hand moving faster, the side of his fist smacking against his pelvis, dark curls damp under his palm. 

“Fuck,” Honey moans, eyes peering toward the screen. Her fingers move faster, her hips grinding to meet the graze of her palm. Joel groans, his eyes rolling back into his skull. “I think I’m going to come,” he breathes out. “Should I?” 

Joel doesn’t bother with typing until he hears his alias. 

“JMiller, since you’re new the decision is yours. Should I? P-Please answer,” she sounds desperate, her hips rutting the air as she presses her fingers hard against her clit. “O-Or do you want me to come on your cock?” 

Joel’s hips stutter, filling the tightness of his fist, “Fuckin’ hell.” 

With sticky fingers he types his answer, telling her that she should come with his cock deep inside her. Joel also adds that he wants to hear her, telling her to be loud. 

“O-Okay,” she whines, almost tearful as she reaches to grab her dildo off-screen. Joel can’t help the grin that makes its way across his face. He types again, telling her not to cry and that she’ll be coming soon enough. When he presses enter, he notices that his name is highlighted in dark orange. “You’re kind of an asshole,” she answers playfully. “I like that.” 

You're the buzzing heartbeat of Honeysuckle’s live stream! You are picked by the streamer as the treasured Drone Bee, your unwavering loyalty and vibrant energy create an electrifying atmosphere. Your presence is a key ingredient in making the honey even sweeter! 

A growl echoes in his throat when Honey shows the camera the dildo she had picked out. She wasn’t kidding when she said it was her biggest. It’s bigger than his own dick, and Joel is by no means a small man. He squeezes his cock and looks down, with a sudden need growing in his chest, he purses his lips and lets a long trail of saliva drip between his lips. He shudders when it reaches the head of his cock. He swipes his palm over it and continues to stroke himself, he wants to come. 

He wants them to come at the same time. 

Honey pushes the dildo in slowly, giving her viewers a clear sight of what’s happening. The toy stretches her wide, the ache of it pulling a gasp from her pretty lips. Joel breathes heavily, his nostrils flaring as his hand speeds up. 

Oh, how he would love to be the one fucking slowly into her, to hear those little gasps coming from her in person rather than his shitty speakers. He holds his breath. It’s buried fully inside of her now. She slowly looks down, her eyes looking directly into the camera. 

“I hope the view down there is good,” she says with a smirk. Joel doesn’t type anything. He focuses on the way his cock drools for her, aches to be buried in her cunt. Honey pulls out the toy until it’s only the tip that’s inside and then shoves it all in one smooth thrust. She cries out, her voice unfiltered. Joel’s stomach jumps at the sound, his pupils dilating like a wolf seeing its prey for the first time. 

She fucks herself hard, whimpering and crying out every time she fuck herself deep. Joel sees the way the plastic surface shines with her slick, he bets she tastes fucking sweet. 

He knows she’s close when her thighs begin to shake—he also knows thanks to the live chat going completely berserk, cheering her on and telling her to squirt. Joel, despite her own release close enough that he can taste it, rolls his eyes. 

“This one is for you JMiller,” she whimpers and Joel’s eyes go wide, his cock pulsing in his wet fist. “Hope you’re gonna fall down the edge with me, big guy.”  

Joel doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until she’s coming—she does so with a loud moan, her cunt fluttering around the large cock. Her head falls back completely, giving a clear view of her heaving chest, nipples fully erect under the see-through armor. 

His fall from grace is less pretty. He lets out a grunt, his hips fucking into his hand helplessly as come spurts from the slit, it’s almost painful. His heart beats aggressively while he tries hard to keep his focus on the screen, he doesn’t want to miss anything. Joel makes a mess of himself and his surroundings, the rug underneath his socked feet stained with his release. 

 Joel’s cock stops throbbing and with a pleased sigh, his shoulders drop. 

“That felt fuckin’ goood,” he groans, staring blankly at the ongoing live stream. Vaguely he notices Honey pulling the toy out, an equally fucked out expression on her face. The live chat is still going wild, he manages to lean over and type in one last sentence before going offline. 

Good girl. 

Joel is a weak weak man. 

Watching Honey quickly became a routine for him. She would start streaming around the same time he would come back from work and it was the perfect way to let off some steam. Tommy had asked if he checked out Ravish, to which Joel promptly said no. He didn’t need his baby brother making fun of him. 

Besides, some primal part of him didn’t want Tommy to know about Honey. It’s an odd thought, he realizes, since she’s enjoyed by many many people. Still, he didn’t have an explanation for what he was feeling. 

Once she had brought in a guest, and his body had immediately rejected it. He was ready to close the stream and head to the bathroom for a quick shower—however, he stopped when he noticed who the guest was; CammingBravo. Another streamer who had caught Joel’s attention when he was scrolling through the endless amount of entertainers for the first time. He watched Honey eat out his tight little asshole, then he watched Bravo fuck her senseless, making her soak the sheets. 

Joel never came that hard in his life before— It was exhilarating. He tipped handsomely that night and Honey mentioned how JMiller was one of her best viewers. Bravo’s smile, which was surprisingly kind, was infectious. 

He would be lying if he said his chest didn’t puff up a little. 

And, of course, he ended up buying a private chat with her after that. He just had to. It would just be this one time, he told himself, just one hour without the live chat. Just him and her. 

He turns on the laptop, already knowing that he’s kidding himself. There’s no way this will be a one-time thing. He’s too. . . smitten to leave it with one private chat. 

Maybe he can limit himself to once a month. That seems reasonable. 

The familiar website of Ravish loads and he clicks on the little gray person in the corner. He finds the section that’s titled “private chats” and clicks. Her username, Honeysuckle, pops up. On the screen, it says she’ll be with him shortly. 

A minute later the screen goes black and her face comes into view. She’s wearing a pink see-through bra with strawberries on it, Honey’s smile is bright as she looks into the camera.  

“Hi there J!” she greets him, his stomach warms at the sound of her voice. “This is your first time doing a live chat right?” 

He nods absent-mindedly while typing. Honey reads his answer and gives him an empathetic look. 

“Okay, so you don’t have to show your face—obviously—but if you want you can click the tiny microphone in the corner and talk to me directly. But if that’s also too much you can continue to type what you want me to do.” 

Joel’s eyebrows raise. Talk to her. . . with his actual voice? The thought both excites and sends cold fear down his spine. What would he even say? What if she doesn’t like the sound of his voice? 

“Are you there?” her voice comes through. “Is everything alright?” 

His fingers tense and rigid, Joel types in the questions that swirl in his head. Luckily the questions sound cheeky without any tone indicators so Honey smiles, her eyes narrowing while her lips curl seductively. 

“You can say anything you want, big boy,” she licks her lips. “And don’t worry about your voice, I’m yours for the hour. You might as well have the most shrill voice in the world, I would still tell you how sexy you sound.” 

You always call me that. Why?  . . .  Also, it doesn’t make me feel any better when you say you’ll tell me how good I sound regardless but I get what you mean. 

Joel aggressively chews the smooth inside of his cheek. Honey reads his messages, a grin stretching across her beautiful face, “Let’s just say streamer’s intuition,” she winks. “As for the other thing, I mean that you don’t need to worry. I doubt you have the most shrill voice in the world.”  she thinks over her words before adding. “Of course, it’s up to you. If you don’t want to use voice chat that’s completely fine.” 

 Joel sighs, his curser hovering over the tiny microphone. Closing his eyes, he clicks. 

“Can—Can you hear me?” 

Her eyes sparkle. 

“Crystal clear,” she answers with a wide smile. “You sound hot.” 

She sounds genuinely impressed. Joel can’t help but chuckle with the shake of his head. “Don’t sound so surprised but thanks, I think?” 

“Oh it’s definitely a compliment,” she says rolling her tongue. “Is there anything you want me to call you or should I just call you J?” 

There’s a brief moment where he thinks of just telling her his name but he bites his tongue at the very last moment. His heart does a little jump when he answers, “You can call me. . . sir.” 

“Understood, sir,” she repeats, her voice dripping with lust. A shudder crawls up his spine and he has to brace himself by holding his knees. “There is also a matter of safewords, I don’t do everything as I’m sure you don’t as well. Red is for stop, yellow is for slow down and green is for go. I think that’s the simplest one but if you want to use a different word I’m okay with that.” 

Joel blinks before answering, “Uh, yeah sounds good.” 

“Also the website doesn’t allow screen recordings—which I appreciate— so you can’t film these sessions in any way. I’m just letting you know because no one reads the terms of service and one client was very unhappy when he got a cease and desist.”

“I. . . okay, I wouldn’t even think of it.” 

She smiles and Joel’s heart feels a bit lighter, “Good,” with the rules established, a sense of relaxation washed over both of them. “So, do you have anything planned for me?” 

Joel clears his throat as a warning and her eyes glimmer with amusement. 

“Sorry,” she breathes heavily. “Did you have anything planned for me, sir?” 

“Would you laugh if I said no?” 

“Sir, I would never laugh at you,” she pouts, brows turning upward. Momentarily she looks off screen and when her eyes find the lens again she smiles giddily.  “Would you want me to show you the toys I think you’ll like?” 

Joel smiles at how genuinely excited she sounds, it’s hard to remind himself that this is all an act and that this is her job. He wants this to be real. He wants her to actually be excited to show him all the things she wants him to use. 

“Sure thing, sweetheart,” he answers not missing the way her lips part with a soft gasp. “Show me what you got.” 

Honey shows him a handful of her toys. She has a lot. Dildos of various sizes, vibrators, nipple clamps, kegel balls, anal plugs, anal beads, floggers, collars, paddles. . . she might as well have an entire sex shop in her room. Joel takes mental notes of all of them to use during their next sessions.  

“Anything that you like, sir?” 

“The paddle,” he murmurs, feeling a bit flustered now that they’re actually getting into it. “The one with the heart-shaped hole and. . . the nipple clamps—” 

“The heart-shaped ones?” 

Joel swallows thickly, “Y—Yeah.” 

“No need to be shy, sir,” she grins. “It’s only you and me.” Honey picks out the toys Joel requested and raises an eyebrow while her gaze searches the pile. “So, no dildos? Or vibrators?” 

“I . . . had somethin’ else in mind, if that’s alright.” 

“Ohhhh, a mystery,” she purrs, winking into the camera. “I love it, sir.” 

Honey is slow to rid herself of her bra, sliding one arm out and then the other before moving both hands to the back to unclasp herself free of the dainty fabric. Her chest nears the camera, giving him a full view of her fully erect nipples. Joel’s breathing grows heavier by the second. He can feel his cock stiffen, pleasure stirring in his gut. He quickly kicks off his shorts, leaving himself bare on the couch as he watches her secure the clamps over each nipple. She lets out a tiny sigh of bliss, pulling her arms back and planting her palms firmly against the mattress, she shows her newly decorated nipples. 

Joel groans and wraps his hand around his cock. She does a little wiggle, the soft sound of bells making his cock twitch. 

“Are you touching yourself, sir?” 

“Yea.” 

“Good, I want to hear you get off,” she quickly adds. “Sir.” 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, sweet thing,” his eyes flutter closed as his fist moves down, and he opens them back up after giving himself a firm squeeze. “Turn around,” he grunts. “And don’t forget the paddle.” 

She does as she’s told, which in return gives Joel an immense sense of control and satisfaction. Precome drips down his length, he uses it to lube himself further, paying extra attention to be loud for her. Just like she wanted. 

His eyes follow the movement of the paddle, she drags it over the right cheek of her ass, caressing her skin. Her panties disappear between the crease of her gorgeous ass, leaving little to the imagination. “Is this okay, sir?” she asks, her voice thick. “Am I being a good girl?” 

Goosebumps rise over his skin. He’d called her, wrote to her, good girl after every stream—his smirk is laced with something dark when he realizes that she must’ve enjoyed it. 

“You’re being very good,” he answers. “Now hit yourself with it, I want to see a heart tattooed on that pretty flesh of yours.” 

“Southern man into branding, why am I not surprised?” she purrs and lifts her ass closer the camera. “You like seeing your pretty girl all marked up by her owner?” 

Fuck. 

“Don’t get full of yourself,” he orders, adding a bit more venomous tone to his voice. Honey stills, and briefly Joel worries he’d overstep. He stops breathing, not wanting to miss even the smallest hint of the safeword. 

But then she shudders, hitting herself lightly with the paddle. “How’s this, sir?” she says, her lilt indicating that she’s highly aware it isn’t enough. 

“Harder.” 

She spanks herself harder, her body jolting. Joel can hear the bells. He circles the head of his cock with the pad of his thumb, groaning as he makes himself more comfortable on the couch. 

“Sweetheart, I don’t think you’re listenin’,” he inhales slowly, enjoying the way her muscles tense. “I want to see those hearts on your skin. I thought this was supposed to be a show.” 

“Y-Yes, sir.” 

He loves how breathy her voice has gotten. Heat licks the base of his spine, his cock begging for release. 

She raises the paddle, smacking her plump meat much harder than before. Her asscheek ripples and Joel can finally see a faint trace of a shape. But it’s not clear enough to be a decent heart. “Again,” he orders. 

It takes about six to nine times before the heart takes shape on her skin. She’s whimpering, tremors moving up and down her body as she fights the urge to collapse. She loves seeing his mark there, she might’ve placed herself, but it was his doing and he revels in it. 

“Good,” he says, swallowing thickly. “Good fuckin’ girl. Lookin’ so pretty for me.” 

“S-Sir,” she mutters. Joel doesn’t know what to expect until her hand comes between her legs, sliding the thin line of her panties to the side. Her cunt is a sopping mess. Joel leans further towards the screen, his tongue licking the roof of his mouth. “Do you see how wet I am? P-Please, I want to come—Can I, sir?” 

“Fuck, ‘course you can,” his neck feels warm, burning almost. “Turn around, grab one of them pillows behind you.” 

“P-Pillow?” 

She sounds dazed, Joel almost feels bad for her, almost. “Yes sweetheart, pillow,” he coos. “I want you to grind that pretty cunt against it. . . honey.” 

“Shit, say that again.” 

“Honey,” he groans again, his hips thrusting into the air, burying himself deep into his fist. His voice drops further as he begins to chant, “Honey, honey, honey, honey—” 

She visibly clenches at that, her entire body tight with arousal. With shaky hands, she brings the pillow between her thighs, straddling the soft cushion. Her head falls back as she gives it an experimental roll of her hips, Joel’s breath catches in his throat. She looks delectable. Her hands come up to her chest and tugs at the clamps, she jumps, a wanton moan echoing from the back of her throat. 

“You’re so worked up aren’t you?” Joel continues as she grinds herself further down, leaving a wet, darkened patch behind. He’s preaching to the choir. His own arousal drooling over his knuckles. He closes his eyes, allowing his mouth to roam free. “Stuff three fingers in your mouth, want you to choke darlin’.” 

With a whine, she nods and pushes three fingers between her lips. Joel smirks, “It ain’t nearly enough but at least you can get a feelin’ of how much my cock would stretch those pretty lips, honey,” he rasps. She shudders, her hips moving wildly over the pillow. “You love havin’ your mouth full don’t you?” 

“Yesh, sur,” she moans around her own fingers, she move acutely, and with every jerk of her hips, Joel can see her throbbing clit. He’s teetering on the edge of his release, heat pools between his legs, his balls go tight. 

“I’m gonna come, honey,” he groans, his tight shaking. “Come with me, show me how wet your get that pillow.” 

With a hint of mischief in her eyes, she loudly gulps around her fingers, giving Joel a clear few of her cunt before rolling her hips down against the smooth surface. His eyes go wide and before his brain can register the coil snapping, he spills over his hand. Heavy strings of come dripping down his hard throbbing length. He makes a choked sound as he tries to breathe in and out at the same time. Honey pulls out her fingers from her mouth and grins, her hands drop in front of her and she bounces up and down, mimicking the way she would ride him. 

The action manages to squeeze one last rope of come from him, his lungs collapse, his body burning. She comes right after, her thighs squeezing around each side of the pillow before gushing around it. Joel can see the shine as she continues to grind her hips. 

“Show me,” he pants, his next words quickly shifting into a growl. “Show it to me.” 

Licking her lips, Honey pulls the pillow from between her legs and shows it to him. His cock twitches with interest. “Wanna taste you,” he says without thinking. 

“Sadly technology hasn’t improved that much yet,” she answers. “But I’ll tell you this much,” she leans in and flattens her tongue against the soaked fabric. Joel’s jaw tightens, his molars digging together painfully. She moans. “I taste sweet. Like honey.” 

You hate visiting home. 

You hate the heat, the crowd, staying at a home where you’re still treated like a child when you haven’t been one for a long long time. But you didn't really have a choice when your dad hurt his leg, which meant that you had to help around with the tiny bookshop your family owned. It was a miracle that it was still standing, but people did love their old, dusty bookshops. You had to admit, you enjoyed the aura of the place.

Your mom had asked you to bring over two coffees before coming in, she opened up shop early which you were grateful for. Now that you were home, you didn’t have the luxury to do as many private calls as you wanted to. You still streamed late at night, keeping silent, your audience didn’t mind. They thoroughly enjoyed the whispering and the “we can’t be caught” act. You only indulged in one private session, a session that you couldn’t bare letting go of. 

JMiller. 

You thought a lot about what his real name might be. Jacob, Jeff, Jeremy. . . none of them felt right. It was disappointing because you wanted to scream his name when you had your hand between your legs. But since you couldn’t decide on a name, you whimpered a string of sirs over and over again. 

You eagerly counted down the hours until you could finally spend time with him. This was a funny thought on its own because you boasted about how professional you were. You kept things clear, not allowing for any miscommunication or—potentially—feelings. But there was just something about him that got your entire body yearning to hear his southern drawl. Maybe it was the nostalgia of it all. You did grow up in Austin after all. But still. It was odd how excited you got before going online. 

You briefly mentioned you were going back home, you didn’t tell him where, obviously, but you did tell him that there could be scheduling issues. He understood. 

Of course he did, he was perfect. 

Pulling yourself away from your thoughts, you impatiently drum your foot against the clean marble floors. This line is insane. You let out a groan, sending your mother a quick text that it might take you a while. A second later your phone buzzes with a thumbs-up emoji from her. You sigh again as you shove the phone down your back pocket, you hate waiting, it gets you anxious and even though you don’t have a boss that will yell at you, you don’t enjoy being late. 

Then, as if he popped out of the concrete like a weed, a man pushes himself between you and the other person that was waiting in line in front of you. 

Your heart races, your eyebrows knitting together, no way in hell are you going to allow someone to cut in line. 

“Hey,” you call out. The man ignores you and you tap his shoulder, he turns sharply, his eyes glaring daggers. “You can’t cut in line,” you say defensively. “You need to move to the back of the line.” 

“Look lady I don’t know what you’re talkin’ about I was always here.” 

“Ummmm, no you weren’t,” your chest heaves, heat rising to your cheeks. You don’t like confrontation—you’d do it, but you’d hate it. Your legs are already shaking slightly. “I’ve been staring at the pink paint stain on that guy’s shoulder for about half an hour so I know what I’m talking about.” 

He rolls his eyes, an ugly snarl taking shape, “Just leave it. I ain’t gonna budge. I have places to be.” 

“And the rest of us don’t?” you snort, eyebrows raised. He shrugs, makes a face, and turns his back to you once again. It takes you everything not to stomp your foot like an angry bull. 

You’ve had enough. You’re tired of the assholes of the word, you don’t care if you’re not allowed into the coffee shop ever again. Puffing up your chest, you open your mouth wide, ready to give this rude stranger a piece of your unfiltered mind. 

“You know what—” 

“Is that any way to treat a lady, moonshine?”  

You turn towards the source of the voice. It’s a man you’ve never seen before. He’s rugged looking, the salt and pepper in his beard endearing. He has a deep crease between his brows, his brown eyes dark as he stares down at the rude stranger. You take in the sight of his broad shoulders, thick neck—your heart does a little flip. You don’t know why but you’re drawn to the man, he has a nice voice. 

The man, however, isn’t as pleased as you. 

“What’s it to you? She your girlfriend?” 

You’re not but you kinda wish you were. 

“Get in the back of the line, I saw you cut in front of her.” 

The tension in the air is thick enough that you can cut it with a knife. You hold your breath, your lungs starting to burn as electricity crackles between the two men. Finally the asshole caves and sighs, going to the back of the line. You let out the breath you’ve been holding, your shoulders sagging with relief right after. 

“Thank you,” you say, your gaze finding the kind strangers. “I was right about to blow my lid before you stepped in.” 

He doesn’t answer and just continues to stare at you. Worry builds in your spine. Why isn’t he saying anything? His softened gaze flits across your face, taking in every detail before looking away. He pushes his hands down his pockets, looking almost boyish with the way he drops his gaze to the floor. 

“Don’t mention it,” he mutters. 

You raise an eyebrow. His voice still sounds familiar. Your curiosity getting the better of you, you shove the thoughts of familiarity into the back of your head and grace him with a wide smile. He blushes profusely, eyes slightly going wide, he takes a sharp inhale. 

“How about I pay for your coffee. . . or whatever you’re buying?” you ask. 

“You don’t have—” 

“I insist!” you chirp, glad that the line is finally moving. You extend your hand with enthusiasm, which he accepts a bit tentatively. Your smile never wavering, you tell him your name and an emotion akin to guilt washes over his eyes. He releases your hand, lips a tight, frigid line. “Is something wrong?” you ask. “You don’t like the name?” 

“N–No, it ain’t that,” he shifts from one leg to the other. You nearly look down, curious to see how tightly his jeans hug his muscular thighs. “I’m. . . Joel.” 

The world around you falls into a complete silence. Joel. Joel. Something electric and searing shoots up your spine, your lashes fluttering. Your heart starts beating a mile a minute but you’re not sure why. The only thing you do know is that this is a significant moment. An important moment. 

Your rake your brain for answers. 

Why? 

Why is it important? What piece are you missing to complete the puzzle? 

His lips break into a soft smile, he gestures towards the counter with his head. “We’re up.” 

“O-Oh, yeah,” you swallow, barely able to pull your gaze away from him. “Sorry.” 

You tell the kind barista your order and she writes it down on both your cups happily. The two of you move away from the line to wait for your drinks; a black coffee for your mom, a caramel macchiato for you, and an iced quad espresso for Joel. You raise an eyebrow. 

“I have a long day comin’,” he says with a small smile. “And I didn’t do much sleepin’ last night.” 

Your mind immediately flashes you memories of last night. Legs spread wide with two dildos stretching you, JMiller really enjoys it when you test your limits. Your pulse pounding in your skull, you look down. “Don’t I know it.” 

“You had a late night too?” there’s a teasing lilt to his tone. Your stomach churns and you sink your teeth into your bottom lip. It looks like he’s about to say something else but the barista calls your name and both of you head towards the counter. He takes his death juice with a grateful smile, his demeanor more relaxed compared to when you introduced yourself.

“Thank you, honey. I appreciate it.” 

Oh shit. 

Shit shit shit shit. 

It is him. 

JMiller—J stands for Joel. 

Fuck. 

“You. . .” you begin, panic raising in your voice. “You’re. . .” 

He nods, “I think we both know why I didn’t sleep much last night,” he extends his hand again. “Huge fan by the way. You’re great and this is awkward as hell.” 

“It is,” you whisper. Still, you take his hand. “It is.” 

“You’ve never had someone come up to you on the street before?” he asks, curious. “I would assume you get recognized a lot.” 

“Not as much as you would think,” a cruel, humorless burst of laughter drops from your lips. “People don’t exactly want their partners to know they’re watching me. But if they’re alone yeah. . . sometimes they’ll say hi.” 

Or they’ll ask inappropriate questions and be weird about it but he doesn’t have to know that. 

Now that he’s mentioned you bumping into others, you’re not sure why it felt like the end of the world before. You feel embarrassed, flustered even, two emotions that a client shouldn’t be making you feel. 

“Well,” he breaks the silence, moving his jaw as he opens the door for you. “Thanks for the coffee.” 

“Technically you bought it.” 

“Right. . .” 

The two of you are out in the street now, staring at each other, contemplating what to say. He scratches the back of his head, then his fingers move to rub at his jaw. Arousal gathers between your thighs, it’s not your fault, now that you know that it’s him, your body acts accordingly. 

“Are we still on for tomorrow?” 

You still for a moment before answering, “Yeah.” 

He turns and leaves, you do the same, only in the opposite direction. 

After learning your name, Joel completely abandoned his rule of you calling him 'sir', making you moan his actual name as frequently as he could. His name stuck to your tongue. It might as well have been tattooed under your bottom lip. He was possessive in the way he asked, in some instances even begging for you to say it—and you fucking loved it. You loved this sick claim he had towards you now that you two had officially met. You loved how much more eager he was to see you make a sticky mess between your thighs. You love how cock dumb he made you feel without actually being there to fuck you himself. 

He even started doing his version of online aftercare. Mostly he would just talk, tell you about every-day things as you came down from your high. Or he would murmur a song. You never asked if he was a musician, he had a nice voice. 

It’s the beginning of the session and you’re getting ready. He says he enjoys watching the preparation you do for him so you decided to start streaming five minutes earlier, allowing him to watch. You really need him today. You had a rough day with an order mix-up, and your mom isn’t the best at dealing with mishaps. He clears his throat, which draws your attention to him. 

“Is something wrong?” you ask. 

“No no, everythin’ is fine, sweetheart. I just. . .” he sighs. “I want to ask somethin’.” 

“Ask away.” 

“Can we—Would you want to—” he groans in frustration and you start grinning. His frustrated pout is adorable. All you want to do is smooth the crease between his brows with your thumb and give him a kiss. 

“Joel Miller,” you tease, not missing the way his breath catches in your throat. “Are you asking me out on a date?” 

Oh god, you hope your intuition is right. If it isn’t this call is about to get really awkward. 

He flushes, eyes dropping as he nods. 

“Is that okay?” 

This is highly unprofessional, “More than okay. I’d love to go on a date with you.” 

His grin is infectious. 

“Good,” he lets out a breath then settles back against the couch. “Now show me those pretty tits, honey.” 

You can’t believe you’re actually in JMiller’s, aka Joel’s, home. 

The date had gone better than you expected. He was kind, charming, and chivalrous which were all qualities you haven’t seen for a while. Ever since you started streaming you hadn’t been on many dates and frankly, after a while, you purposefully avoided them. It just felt like asking for drama that you had no intention of dealing with. But Joel wasn’t like that. He could be blunt, a bit grumpy, yet also kind. He had taken you to one of his favorite pubs. Beers accompanied by the best jalapeno poppers you ever had equated to one of the finest dates you’ve ever had. 

He was a contractor, had a daughter in college, and a younger brother. His mother and father had passed a long time ago and ever since Sarah left, he’d been feeling lonely. He’d admitted shyly that that was the reason why he signed up on Ravish. He wanted company. 

You found it incredibly charming. 

As soon as Joel closes the door behind you two, you fall into each other’s arms. He kisses you with fervor, tongue slipping between your lips as he breathes you in at the same time. You feel him everywhere. Large hands squeezing your hips, waist, breasts—it’s intoxicating. You moan wantonly into his mouth, your lids falling when he sucks your tongue into his mouth. He tastes like beer and you’re pretty sure you do too. 

Joel pushes you up against the wall, knocking the air from your lungs while you continue to chase his lips with an insatiable need. You can’t bear to be separated from him, not even for a second. He drags his lips down your neck, mouthing at your jugular, sharp teeth nipping the sensitive flesh. Your hips jerk to meet his and with a growl, he pins you back to the wall. 

“Don’t,” he grunts. “I’ve been waitin’ so long for this honey, so fuckin’ long.” 

Your lips curl, a challenge lingering in your eyes, “Show me then, big boy. Show me how bad you want to fuck your slut.” 

“Fuck,” he hisses, gripping your chin harshly and pulling you in for another kiss. Your teeth clink together, he pulls back just as quick, the muscle in his jaw twitches. “Fuck,” he breathes out again. “You have quite the mouth on you, darlin’.” 

You have no recollection of how the two of you clamored upstairs, stripping one another in a lustful haze. The time you realize you’re naked is when you feel the cool air of the room caressing your burning skin, he leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses down between your breasts, fingers eagerly working your nipples as he forces you to walk back until your back of your knees hit the bed and you fall. 

Not wanting to give in so easily, you wrap your fingers around his heavy cock. It juts angrily between his legs, answering your touch by drooling all over your palm, slickening your movements. You jerk him until he’s fully hard, his breathing heavy as he rolls his hips to meet the tightness of your fist. He sinks his teeth into your neck, the pain that blossoms coaxes a moan from you, your own wetness growing between your legs. 

“I knew you’d be fucking big,” you whisper, tongue toying with his earlobe. “So huge—makes me wonder if I can take it. . .” 

“I’ve seen you take bigger,” he groans, hips stuttering. A whimper drops from your lips, you want him, you want to feel him inside, want to feel his come dripping out later. You feel thick fingers spreading your soaked folds, he drags down a middle finger between them, licking himself into your mouth as he draws circles around your aching clit. “So wet for me,” he rasps. “Gonna make a mess in you, honey.” 

You gasp, “P-Please.” 

He lines himself against your entrance, teasing you, stretching you subtly with the bulbous head of his cock. Your head falls back and your back arches into him. He draws a hard nipple between his lips, closing them as he sucks. Heat rushes all over your body, arousal thick on your tongue. You clutch the sheets. He smiles as he pushes in, filling you inch by inch with a lax jaw and a dazed gaze. 

He stops and waits for you to adjust to him. Joel’s forehead drops against yours, dampness growing between the skin. You feel his breath fanning your face, so warm. There’s a hint of pain, the type that makes you flutter around him. He feels it too. The way you tighten against him, your body begging for more. He obliges. Pushing further and further until his hips are flushed against yours. His jaw is clenched tight, his breathing heavy. 

“Fuck you feel so good,” he presses fleeting kisses all over your face. It’s ticklish and if all your senses wasn’t narrowed in between your legs, you would’ve giggled. 

Your body jerks as he pulls back, the pleasure you feel is instant and overwhelming. You’ve missed the feeling of actual flesh inside of you. Joel snaps his hips forward, locking your breath in your throat, with a moment of desperation you wrap your arms around him and pull him closer. He fucks you in earnest. Every thrust desperate. Every thrust needy. He seems lost in you, whimpers, groans and grunts trembling in his throat and chest. You spread your legs wider, wanting more of him, wanting your cunt to take the shape of his cock. 

“Harder—” you cry out. “Take it—Take what you want—” 

Your arms fall limp, his body moving up and towering over yours. Joel grips your thighs tight before lifting them, he jackhammers into you, tugging and pulling at you like a brand new fucktoy. He splits you in half. The force of his movements making you scream. You don’t miss the way he grins wildly, dangerously. Something dark and haunting washing over his face. 

Your eyes grow wide, your heart beating in your throat, making it hard to swallow. It happens all at once, you clench around him, arousal pouring between your legs in a way it never had before. The look, the cock, the man behind it all—everything combined pushing your mind into the deep stages of want and need. Your eyes roll back, your hands coming up to pinch your tight, tingling nipples. You sob his name, your voice hoarse as you beg him for more and more and more—

“W-Wait, darlin’ if you squeeze me like that I’ll—!” 

A series of curses drops wildly and unintelligently from his lips. You feel him. The heat of his seed filling you to the brim, his cock throbs and twitches, spurting into you again and again. Your lips break into a satisfied smile. Instinctively, Joel pushes deeper, shoving your combined slick even deeper. 

“Shit,” he says catching his breath. “I-I’m so fuckin’ sorry. I usually last. . . longer than that. I—” 

You shush him and cup his cheek. You’re so pliant right now, floating happily in the air. You let out a sigh before willing your lips to move. Has talking always been this taxing? 

“It’s okay Joel,” you slur your words, smiling lazily. “I take it as a compliment, that felt fucking good.” 

“Yeah?” he sounds so innocent and hopeful that you can’t suppress your giggle. His eyes twinkle under the dimmed light. “Well, I’m glad you felt good, sweetheart but I’m not done yet.” 

Your breath hitches when he pulls out, your brows furrow as a chill settles between your legs. You wanted him to stay inside longer. But you’re pleasantly surprised when he slides down your body, kissing every patch of skin before settling between your legs. 

“Let’s see if you’re as sweet as you’ve been tellin’ me.” 

He kisses your cunt, lips moving in tandem with your wet folds. He drags his tongue up between them, curling it as he takes himself into his mouth, tasting both of you at one. You go limp at the pressure of his tongue, your walls fluttering and squeezing for more. With a groan, he shoves his fingers, the wet sound makes your toes curl into the mattress. It’s like torture, a very pleasurable torture. You gasp when he pulls you flush against his face, the bridge of his nose bumping against your clit as he licks you clean. 

Your build up is spontaneous. You feel it coming, the taste of your orgasm at the tip of your tongue. Joel curls his fingers, sucking your clit between his lips and gently nipping at it. You hips chases his mouth, his mustache chafing the tender skin. Your hands come to each side of his head, threading your trembling fingers through the soft locks, his fingers brush against an especially sensitive spot and you tug at his hair. His throat shakes with a groan. His eyes closing. 

“Do it again,” he mutters. And you do. He starts moaning into your cunt, his hips, despite just spilling inside of you, rutting against the bed. Your nails bite into his scalp and he flicks his tongue over the sensitive bundle of nerves. 

The tension coiling in you finally snaps, your entire body locking up as you gush into his mouth. He gulps you down loudly, fingers still moving deep inside you. Your throat is dry as ou shout his name, hips stuttering helplessly, he pins you down with both hands, moving his head up and down as the fat strokes of his tongue becomes more wild. 

When he’s finally done feasting, he pulls away with a wet mouth. 

“Wow,” you murmur, curling into him when he lays beside you. “That was. . . wow.” 

“You really had low expectations, huh?” 

“Not low,” you grin. “But not that high either.��� 

“Well,” he says, guiding you so you’ll lay on his chest. “I’m glad to prove you wrong.” 

You smile, heart fluttering. 

“Me too.” 

[barcaatthemoon]

shared wardrobe || lucy bronze x reader ||

you have a habit of wearing lucy's things out.

you woke with a start. the sun was shining brightly in the sky, and the light poured in through the window. you started to move, but an arm held onto you tightly, trapping you in. slowly, bits of your night came back to you, and with it, the realization that you had definitely missed training that day.

"fuck!" you exclaimed. this time, you managed to separate yourself from lucy's grasp. you hated having to leave the comfort of lucy's bed, but you had promised irene, alexia, and sandra that you'd meet them for lunch after practice.

"shut up and come back here," lucy grumbled. you sighed as you turned around to look at her. she had yet to open her eyes, but you absolutely had to make it. alexia would have your ass if she came to get you only to find that you weren't there.

"i can't stay, but i'll come back after lunch. do you want me to bring you back something to eat?" you offered. lucy shook her head as she buried her face into the spot where you'd been laying. you ran around her room like a headless chicken trying to get ready. lucy managed to fall back asleep before you were gone, and you just barely made it to the restaurant in time.

"nice shirt. when did you start playing for manchester city?" sandra teased as you slid into the seat next to her. you furrowed your brows before glancing down at your shorts. you were definitely wearing your jean shorts from the night before, but instead of picking up the shirt you had meant to, you had accidentally grabbed lucy's shirt on the way out.

"what would poor little ona say if she saw you wearing the shirt of the enemy?" alexia teased. she stood behind you with her hands on your shoulders, massaging in a way that made you a bit nervous. alexia had always been able to do that, in a way that you assumed all big siblings could. you were an only child, but when you joined barcelona and the spanish national team, you had gained more "big sisters" than you knew what to do with.

"congratulations," you muttered as you took a sip of sandra's drink. the goalkeeper let you have it, but she did kick you under the table for your comment. "hey, i've earned this, okay? i'll be sure to pick something else up on my way back too."

"disgusting. i never should have let you room with leila," alexia scoffed. she playfully smacked you upside the head, never hitting you enough to actually hurt. she had come close to it once, and a part of you was convinced that she hadn't forgiven herself for it.

"just be safe and use protection," irene told you. she knew that you'd always be safe, having had a sex talk every single time that one of them or another older player thought you even had crush on someone else. you were nearing 26, but they still treated you like the team baby.

"you guys aren't mad that she's older than me?" you asked. alexia shrunk back as she sat in her seat, more than ashamed for having nearly beaten up mapi when you developed a crush on her. irene and sandra had been a bit confrontational with mapi when she transferred over, but the defender made it clear to them that she wasn't interested. although, neither of you would ever let them know that you had secrectly been dating at the time of her transfer, but she was too stressed trying to keep it a secret from the rest of the girls. "i thought i wasn't allowed to date up like that."

"you're in a different place now. i think that spending time in with lucia will be good for you. she's not much of a partier, and it would do you some good to get yourself out of that habit," irene said. she wanted what was best for you, and in her mind, that was getting you into the habit of settling down. she knew that your party girl persona was just a facade, one that you used to protect yourself from being heartbroken.

"olga may have pointed out to me at the last game how cozy you had been getting, so i am not surprised," alexia admitted. she rubbed the back of her neck awkwardly as she continued, "i just want you to be careful. you are both my friend, and i would not want to have to make any choices."

"don't worry, ale. i know what i'm doing," you told them. you did know what you were doing with lucy, and you knew exactly where you wanted things to go. you wanted everything with her, certain that you had finally found your person. you could see yourself settling down with lucy and starting a family, she was the only person you could see a forever with.

…

"it doesn't fit. the shirt is too small." you looked at lucy with tears in your eyes. whenever lucy had told you about her final game as a lioness, you had prepared yourself for a lot of tears. what you hadn't prepared for was to be pregnant.

the doctor had told you not to expect anything from the test process. you had been inseminated to know what it felt like and to see if any of your eggs could be fertilized. there were a series of tests run that should have killed any activity, but here you were starting to show with your little miracle baby.

"hey, it's okay. calm down, love." lucy put her arms around you and pulled you in for a hug. in the short amount of time that you'd been pregnant, lucy had been great about calming you down. you were a passionate and emotionally intense person, and your hormones were only making it worse.

"no it's not because i can't fit into the jersey, lucy. i don't even look pregnant, i just look fat!" you raised your voice and stomped your feet. lucy walked you back over to the bed and sat you down. there was no way that other people hadn't heard you, and if her teammates had questions, she was more than happy to answer them. each of them cared for you as if you had come up with the rest of them, like you were a lioness as well.

"you aren't fat. we didn't plan on you showing, and that's okay. do you want to wear one of my sweatshirts out so that nobody knows? i've got one from this camp. it doesn't look like the jersey, but it's warm and still has my last name on it," lucy offered. she took the shirt out of your hands as she replaced it with her sweatshirt.

you gingerly put it on. in your mind, it was a bit tight, but you weren't showing in it. lucy smiled as she leaned down to kiss you. she kissed your face all over as she muttered about how beautiful you looked in her sweatshirt. lucy loved seeing you in her clothes around the house, and it was almost just as good to see you wear them in public for her.

"hey little man," lucy greeted her nephew with a big hug and kiss. "i have an important job for you, okay? i need you to walk your tia to her seat and keep an eye on her. between you and me, she's a little sad, so make sure that you give her lots of love, okay?"

"yes ma'am." you glanced at him curiously as he saluted lucy before turning towards you. he extended his hand towards you with a smile that was all bronze. "milady."

"go on with him, you're getting the star treatment tonight babe," lucy muttered as she gave you one last kiss. you sat in a special section right up next to the pitch, close enough to touch the players on the bench in front of you. a few of them got up and would come talk to you a bit, checking in on the pregnancy or just to see how you felt about watching lucy retire.

at the final whistle, you were escorted down onto the pitch for lucy to give her goodbye speech. you held the microphone for her as she held you in one arm and her nephew in the other. lucy's family came down to stand around her with her teammates. there were a few players that you knew had retired already, girls that lucy had introduced you to a few times on trips back up to england.

"i am so proud of you," you said as you cupped lucy's cheeks. "i can't wait to wear this name on my jersey one day."

"you'll do it proudly, and if i'm lucky, you'll be the first bronze to win the world cup," lucy said. the two of you had been deliberate in your family planning, hopeful that you'd be back in your normal form by the time that the next world cup rolled around. "and if not, we've got some pretty good other options too if i do say so myself."

"how do you know the baby is gonna be a footballer?" lucy's nephew asked as he placed his hand on your stomach. "i think it'll be a singer."

"nah mate, that baby's gonna be the best right back in the world," lucy said. "just like their mum."

…

"lucy!" you shouted from the nursery. lucy raced in from the bedroom, clad only in a towel and dripping wet. she looked panicked as she looked around to see what could possibly be wrong. "can you get me a different shirt please? vincent threw up on mine."

"you can't yell like that," lucy grumbled as she walked out of the bedroom. you followed her with the baby in your arms. you had changed your son immediately after his little incident, but had yet to get a chance to change yourself. "get him out of here, i have to change."

"he's a baby luce, and i need a shirt to wear. quickly please, i'm getting cold," you told her. lucy sighed and handed you the one she had planned on wearing. you were still trying to get back into wearing your pre-maternity clothes, but it was proving to be difficult to shed the baby weight. you were training like crazy, but you needed to get used to how your body had changed.

you happily put on lucy's shirt while she held vincent. you took him into the living room after to give lucy privacy. it took her a while, but she eventually made it out after having to adjust her outfit choice. it was a barcelona team dinner to celebrate them getting another sweep, but also a celebration of your son's first birthday. he had become like the team's unofficial mascot, often resulting in him being passed around the locker room like simba.

"cameras," lucy grumbled as she put on the baby backpack. you watched as she shielded vincent's face completely from the paps as she walked in. lucy had prefected that move, which you were impressed it. you followed in behind them, stopping a couple of times to pose for the cameras. you knew that someone on twitter or tiktok would have fun with it, most likely adding it to a compliation video of you wearing lucy's shirts or fucking with the press.

…

you wore lucy's clothes all the time. in fact, it was rare that you wore an outfit made up of things from your side of the closet. even if it was something as small as a ring, bracelet, or necklace, you had something of lucy's. occasionally, she'd wear one of your bracelets or a necklace, but she rarely took your actually clothing. today seemed to be an exception.

you had gone to the game on your own early to warm up. lucy's knee had been acting up, so you had asked ingrid to come and get you. that meant that you hadn't seen lucy get ready for the day. when you left, she was still in her pajamas as she played dinosaurs with vincent, who also wasn't even close to being ready.

lucy had her methods of getting him dressed for the day, which differed greatly from yours. she let him run around in between articles of clothing, meaning that it was an all morning affair for lucy to get him dressed. you couldn't imagine how rough things would be when you transferred up to manchester for him to start school in september. lucy would be on her own for a few weeks while you got all the club things figured out.

"are they in matching outfits?" keira asked as she looked into the stands. you followed her gaze to see your son and wife dressed in matching outfits. "where did she get that?"

"my dresser," you answered. you pinched the bridge of your nose as you approached them. vincent brightened up immediately, clapping and shouting for you. you hopped over the barrier and took him from lucy, who pressed a kiss to your cheek. "nice outfit."

"thank you, he asked if we could match," lucy said. you knew that wasn't completely the truth. vincent didn't immediately argue though, you assumed that it was a mutual thing. lucy liked to act tough sometimes, but you knew how soft the woman was. you were a pretty big soft spot for her, but your son was a bigger one.

"i think you look cute, and i should post a picture on instagram later," you told her. lucy pulled a face, but you knew that she'd let you get it anyway. you brought them down to the field, and vincent excitedly ran around letting everybody know that lucy was wearing the same outfit as him. "you look good in my clothes. that shirt is definitely too small, but i'm kind of into it."

"it's uncomfortable as hell. why do you like everything so tight?" lucy asked as she tugged at the shorts.

"how else am i meant to keep you around?" you asked her. lucy shook her head as she chuckled. both of you knew that you didn't need to show off to keep lucy around, she had married you after all. she was in it for the long haul, and had proven it time and time again when things got a bit tough.

[its-time-to-write]

OMGGGG WELCOME BACK QUEEN!!!!! honestly you can write quite literally ANYTHING (esp hurt/comfort pls pls pls) with jamie bc all your fics are simply immaculate 🫶🏼

THANKS QUEEN. I’m starting off with the most open-ended prompt and let me tell you, ya girl is RUSTY. This took way longer than it should so pls forgive me😅

But yeah requests are still open so ask away!

birds of a feather

The lights are off when you get home, but you don’t bother turning them on. You’re familiar enough with Jamie’s house that you can make your way upstairs and to his bed without looking. You drop your bag, kick off your shoes, and trudge upstairs.

The light’s on in his room but he’s passed out. You smile to yourself despite the day and switch off the lights.

You weren’t going to cry again, really you weren’t, but by the time you’re brushing your teeth, they’re sliding down your face.

But it’s dark, so no one can see.

You slip into bed where you can (hopefully) cry yourself to sleep when a sob escapes your throat.

Another slips out, then another, making it hard to stop and harder to breathe.

“Babe?” comes Jamie’s hoarse voice. “You alright?”

You can feel him reach for the light, so you blindly grab for his arm. “Don’t,” you gasp, “Please, just leave it off.”

Jamie understands what you mean. You’re trying to say, I don’t want you to see me cry.

He shifts so his face is two inches from yours. He’ll be awake in a few hours, but it doesn’t matter at the moment.

“What happened?” he whispers, but he already knows the answer. He hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but Beard had been running the team ragged in training.

You take a shuddering breath and Jamie’s eyes have adjusted enough where he can wipe away a tear. “Went exactly as expected, didn’t it?” you say. “She did what she always does. Asked for money, was furious when I said no. Asked for advice, was mad when I gave her an answer. Asked me to listen, was upset when I wasn’t giving her solutions. She stormed out after an hour, but not before throwing her wine on me. I ruined the dress you got me, I’m pretty sure we got papped, and I’m really, really sorry.” That’s going to be a lovely article to wake up to in the morning. If Keeley were here, she would be able to come up with a catchy headline for it, rhyming “Tartt,” with something about sisters and WAGs and thrown wine. 

But Keeley isn’t here, it’s just you and Jamie, and you can’t help but think it’s too early in your relationship for this.

Really though, you haven’t been together long enough for your name to tarnish his. That’s a milestone that should be passed in ten months. A year, even.

Jamie barely catches himself from asking, “Why do you still see her?” just like everyone has asked him about his father.

Instead he says, “I’m not fuckin’ worried,” and wraps you in his arms. 

You exhale and snuggle as close as you can. 

It’s times like this where you remember exactly why you’re with him. He just- gets it.

You met him through Keeley. Keeley had been your sister’s friend first, met at a photo shoot, but it was hard to stay friends with your sister. You and Keeley became close while your sister accused you of stealing all her friends.

“Keeley would love to see you,” you had tried to tell her one time in an attempt to keep her from shouting.

“The fuck I would,” Keeley had snorted when you relayed the story hours later.

Keeley’s a genius, really. She took a horrible a vitriolic viral tabloid story about Jamie’s dad and a charity gala, and managed to create this, whatever “this” is.

Jamie’s running his thumb up and down your arm as your breathing evens out.

“Want to go on a run with me and Roy tomorrow?” he asks. “I’ll get you breakfast.”

You whisper back, “I can buy my own breakfast,” and Jamie’s grateful that it’s dark so he can roll his eyes without getting smacked.

“What if I fucking want to get it for you? What then, ey?”

You respond, “Hm,” and then you’re asleep.

—

If Roy’s surprised you’re with Jamie in the morning, he doesn’t show it. He grunts and says, “Don’t think I’m going fucking easy on you, Tartt,” but he sets the warmup at a pace you like before saying, “You’re doing fucking sprints today and I don’t want to hear fucking shit about it.”

He’d never admit it, but Roy’s excellent at reading people. The sprints are so you don’t have to have a single thought inside your head. By the time the sun rises, you’re enjoying coffee on a bench with Roy while Jamie completes his eighty-second pushup.

“Don’t fucking read the fucking Sun,” is the last thing Roy says before leaving to go to his actual work. You grimace, but Jamie takes your hand and swings it the whole way back to his house.

“I’m not going to see her again,” you tell him. He knows you’re lying. He said the same thing about his dad month and a half ago, but he’s going to see him in rehab next week.

Jamie hands you a credit card on his way out the door “to get something fucking hot, babe.”

It won’t change anything and it won’t even fix anything either, but that’s not the point.

The point is he’s looking at you. He sees, he understands, and he’s still there.

You do end up reading the article. It’s complete shit, a made up story about you being a bitch whose newfound celebrity has alienated you from your loving family. Nowhere does it mention that said “loving” family only comes crawling around when they need something. That what they take from you will never be enough.

The fuck did you read that shite for? comes Jamie’s text after you’ve ignored his last five. ik that’s why ur not responfing

Why is your autocorrect never on? you write back instead of answering.

Jamie’s reply is quick: for the aesthetic

You: So you can write “aesthetic,” but have trouble spelling “responding?” Seems strange

Jamie: Sma helpd

Then: *Sam.

You smile, despite yourself. Sometimes you wonder how much of this he does just to get a rise out of you. You suspect it’s more than he lets on, but you’ll let him pretend to be stupid for now.

You check the time. If he’s texting at this hour, it means training’s done. Your finger hovers over the call button for a fraction of a second before pressing it.

Sam picks up on the second ring. “Your boyfriend is hitting Isaac with a towel,” he says, no preamble. “It is chaos.”

“He was just texting me a second ago,” you say.

You can practically hear Sam shrug through the phone. “It escalated quickly. Do you need him? I’m sure they will stop since you’re calling.”

He doesn’t sound too sure, which makes you laugh. “No, it’s all good, can you just tell him-”

You’re interrupted but the muffled sound of the phone being wrestled away from Sam.

“Jamie’s a dickhead,” comes Isaac’s voice far too close to the speaker before there’s vague wrestling again and you hear Jamie, very much out of breath.

“What’s up, babe?” he asks and you don’t even remember why you called him in the first place because you’re smiling too wide.

“I really fucking love you,” you tell him and even though it isn’t the first time you said it, you feel nervous. The good kind, where you know he’s going to say it back and mean it, and that his words are just for you.

Jamie says, “I love you too,” and tries his best to convey a thousand meanings into four words.

“Great,” you say, “because the top Google story for you is me with a giant wine stain on my dress. So I think we should go out tonight and look so hot that everyone forgets all about it. Thoughts?”

Jamie says, “Fucking mint,” then, “fucking ow,” and you can tell by the sounds in the background that Isaac’s gotten him again. 

“GottagoloveyouheresSam,” he says in a rush before you hear him practically hurl his phone.

“You have some strange coworkers, Sam,” you comment.

“You have a strange boyfriend,” he retorts, and he’s right. But Jamie’s strange matches your strange, so you think it’ll last.

[mcuamerica]

Only You | Azriel x Fem!Reader

Summary: Azriel doesn't like seeing you dance with Cassian. Requested by @tincanhat here.

Warnings: 18+ only, jealousy, SMUT (fingering, p in v, creampie, slight dom Az (?), spanking like twice, slight size kink, rough sex, petnames), little angst, mostly smut, aftercare and fluff, lightly proof-read

Disclaimer: I do not own SJM’s characters, only the ones I create for the purpose of this story. This is a work of fiction. I do not give permission to repost my work on any other platform or medium. Please be respectful.

You were dancing in the living room, laughing as Cassian twirled you around. Nesta was in the corner, not even noticing as her mate spun another female around. To be fair, it was a courtier’s ball. And it wasn’t unusual for you to dance with members of your family.

Azriel couldn’t stand it, nonetheless. You and him had an on and off again thing. While you had feelings for him, wanting to be more than just fuck buddies, you didn’t want to ruin what you had. Not when Azriel, in your mind, was still getting over Elain since her and Lucien’s official mating. And Azriel, unbeknownst to your feelings, was tiring of just making love to you. The minutes, or sometimes hours, of sex you two had did nothing to satiate his need when you eventually left his room. Or he yours.

He tried pushing it, tried falling asleep. But he felt too guilty. He didn’t want to stay the night unless you asked him to.

This might be the last straw. Seeing you laugh at Cassian’s bad jokes, his horrible dancing. And even grab his arm as you held your stomach in a fit of giggles. This wasn’t fair. That should be him. Why were you looking at Cassian like you should be looking at him.

He didn’t even ask you before he walked straight up to you and Cass, whispered a quick “excuse us” and picked you up by your thighs.

Your yelp echoed against the walls as you hung upside down across Azriel’s shoulder. “Azriel! Let me down,” you said and lightly tapped on his back.

He let out a growl that went straight to your core, shutting you up and making you go limp in his hold as he hauled you up to his bedroom.

“What is your problem?” You asked when he finally set you down.

His eyes revealed nothing but deep, dark lust as he immediately kissed you. It was nothing like the passionate times he’s brought you to his room before. This was desperate. Angry almost.

“Azriel-“ you started as you pulled away for air.

“Don’t. Speak.” He growled again. You’ve never seen this level of possessiveness in him before. What came over him to need you this badly?

“Az-“ he shut you up with a quick, but light, smack to the bum. Your eyes widened as he kissed you again, backing you up against the bed. He pulled away momentarily, silently asking if this was okay. The Az you knew finally showed for a moment.

You answered his curious gaze with a deep kiss of your own, your hands finding their place tangled I’m his hair. You weren’t going to say no to a quickie with the most handsome male in Prythian.

Azriel made quick work of ripping, literally ripping, off his shirt. His buttons falling to the floor behind him. His shadows, flustering around him, came over to pin your hands of your head.

“Don’t you dare rip this dress, Shadowsinger.” You let out a growl of your own. You had spent months getting it just right, and you planned to wear it many more times.

His eyes narrowed, you again spoke when he didn’t ask you to, but he let it go, pulling you up to untie the dress and tug it off you.

When he realized you weren’t wearing anything under it, his gaze darkened again. “Talk out of turn again, and I’ll make sure to deny you exactly what you want.”

And then he plunged two fingers into your core, causing you to arch your back. His shadows fluttered around you again, a cold sensation washing over you as they pressed you into the bed. You let out an ungodly loud moan as Azriel pressed his thumb against your clit.

Soon enough, his fingers curled against the right spot and caused you to let out another moan, his name falling off your lips.

He gave you a good two seconds from coming down from your high before he slipped his large cock in you. Your hips bucked, hands coming to rest on his biceps. Your nails dug in, drawing the slightest amount of blood. “Az-Azriel.” You panted and rested your head on his shoulder as he thrusted relentlessly.

“No one can fuck you like this, huh? No one can make you feel this good. Who makes you feel this good, baby?” He growled, nipping below your earlobe.

Your eyes fluttered shut as you couldn’t form words, completely blissed-out with his girth sheathed inside of you. Another light smack landed on your ass, causing you to let out a moan.

“Words, babygirl… who makes you feel this good? Fucked so good that you can’t even speak?” He growled, his thumb returning to rub your clit.

It was his turn to moan as you squeezed around his cock. “You, you Azriel. Only- only you.” You said, forming a mantra of “only you” as he continued to thrust.

His free hand took your leg and lifted it over his shoulder, causing him to go even deeper into your core. He could even see the slight bulge of his cock as he slid in fully.

“You’re close, baby girl. Cum with me.” He whispered, his lips finding that spot beneath your ear, sucking on it as you spasmed around him.

Your head fell back as he released his cum in you, slowly coming to a stop before pulling out completely. You caught your breath, not even noticing as he walked away and grabbed a wet wash cloth to clean you up. He offered you water, watching as you gulped it down.

When you were finally fully conscious again, you looked over to Az. He was sprawled out beside you, pushing wet strands of hair out of your face. “What was that for?” You asked, searching his eyes.

That desperation, the darkened lust, had disappeared and was replaced with what you knew to be his softened stare.

“I can’t do this anymore.” He whispered.

Your throat tightened, glanced down as you felt as if you’d done something wrong. “You-“

“Not… this this…” he said and cupped your cheek, noticing your worry. “I can’t just keep… screwing around with you. I couldn’t stand seeing you with Cassian today. Laughing. Like you enjoyed his company more than mine.” He said, his thumb stroking your cheek.

Your gaze softened, relief flooding over you. “You were jealous?” A playful tone on your lips, a giggle falling out as he narrowed his eyes. “If you don’t want to keep screwing around, as you say, what do you want, Azriel?” You asked.

He sucked in a breath. Never in all your years of knowing him was he at a loss for words. Even when your mouth was around him and you had him literally by the balls. He always knew what to say.

“I want to be yours.” He whispered, perching himself on his forearm to look at you closely. “And I want you to be mine.”

You stared into his eyes, pretty sure that you were dreaming. The man you had loved for years… finally wanted to be with you? And not just for fucking?

“I would like that very much.” You whispered, leaning up to close the gap, your mouth on his in a deep, loving kiss. “I really thought you were never going to ask me.” You said when you pulled away.

“If you ever, ever, laugh with Cassian like that again, I might just take it back.” He said with a serious look, though his tone was teasing.

“Okay, tough guy. Seeing how well you handled it tonight, I don’t think that’s an option.” You said, patting his arm as you laid down, feigning to turn your back towards him.

You squealed as he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his lap. “I didn’t hear you complaining.” He teased, nipping at your shoulder.

Your giggles filled the room as he peppered kisses along your shoulders and neck. Azriel knew in that moment that he could die happy if your laugh was all he heard for the rest of his life.

A/N: Hope you enjoyed this!!! I’m honestly not very used to writing smut (or angst for that matter) so I hope it was to your liking! Requests are always open!

[sssssecret]

While I'm doing the omo dungeon, I want to talk about a fantasy I've been having recently.

My dom is a bartender in a pretty popular bar, and I would be the sub and the bar urinal. I would have a funnel in my mouth and a catheter in my bladder with a funnel. A patron would come in and piss in funnel leading to my bladder. I would also have people pissing in my ass and pussy, with plugs in both so it can't get out. My dom would come in and I'd beg to go to the bathroom and empty myself. I would be begging so hard, I wouldn't even realize I was saying "please let me flush, your toilet is so full". He would tut and smack my bladder, saying that I need to be better at holding.

He would stick a ridged metal sound in my urethra and say if I push it all the way out, I'll be allowed to piss, but I can't stop for longer than 5 seconds, and if I did, he'd push it back in. He made it this way, knowing I would lose. I start pushing it out, piss coming out around it. I'd keep trying, but I'd pause to take a break, and it lasted longer than 5 seconds, making him push it back in. This would continue for awhile before he rips it out and I piss everywhere. He sighs, and says "We have to train your piss hole so that it can leak whenever I want it to, and be wide enough to fit a cock so I don't have to have ugly funnels. Patrons should be able to stick their cocks in your bladder and relieve themselves." My dom would then grab a thick catheter and plug it up inside me.

When I would be forced back out, there would be a small sign on it that says "Hole closed for maintenance" and my mouth open wide with a o-ring. A patron would walk in and sigh, disappointedly at that sign and stick their cock all the way into the back of my throat and piss, so far back I can't even taste it. I would be sitting there for days, my dom opening my pisshole up more and more until it's gaping. There would be a ring on my inner bladder that would make it so that I can't voluntarily piss without him activating an app on his phone. Even then, I would only be able to piss at most, 10 seconds at a time, not even enough to dent the big bulge inside me. I would beg and beg to be flushed, and he'd just sigh and say that my bladder capacity needs to be better, that I shouldn't be begging to be flushed every day. "Toilets should only need to be flushed every other week".

He'd take me away again and into a surgery room. He would press on my bladder and massage it, feeling how full it would be. He'd sigh again, and let me completely empty myself. I'd sigh in relief, but he'd still be talking. "I've custom made a sleeve to go over your bladder that will allow it to expand without bursting. It would also make it numb until your bladder is about to explode." He injects an IV into me and I start falling asleep.

I would wake up again in my usual place in the bar bathroom, but I wouldn't be able to feel my bladder. One by one, people come in and empty themselves into whatever hole they want. Most people would pick the catheter so they could piss directly into my bladder. It would take at least 3 days until I actually felt my bladder, and it would be full. I knew better than to beg though, so I would wait. It wouldn't be until Monday before the bar is opens when I'd be emptied. It would be after the weekend, and so many people would've pissed inside me, so I would be squirming while he opens the little device inside me and the piss runs down my legs and into a bucket, as toilets don't deserve to piss in anything else. I'd be so relieved, but not for long as the bar would be opening soon, and then I'd be filled with piss again.

[thatanimewriter]

SPRING HAS SPRUNG.

➳ synopsis: it's spring time and your bird-like tendencies are hitting at full force

➳ character/s: dan heng, jing yuan, dr ratio, aventurine, sunday, midoriya izuku, tokoyami fumikage, uraraka ochako, shinsou hitoshi, amajiki tamaki

➳ warnings: swearing, you got wings and you like nesting, very mildly suggestive (jing yuan, aventurine, sunday), spoilers for aven backstory

➳ notes: i'm back at it with bird!reader stuff because i think it's cute. will i ever do any other content with bnha that isn't birds (this is like, the 4th-), probably not LMAO

𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭  / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭

── 𝐃𝐀𝐍 𝐇𝐄𝐍𝐆.

he's just come back from the luofu n is lowkey kinda stressed cause memories n stuff

so he chooses to go to your room on the express to get some cuddles in

but as soon as he walks in, he sees you on the bed, wings spread and a bunch of shirts and blankets around you

he gave a little 'aww' and removed his shoes and coat before slipping under your wing

you grunted quietly n he was lowkey like 0_0 cause he didn't wanna wake you

but you just shuffled a bit and returned to sleeping

if he doesn't fall asleep with you, he's probably slapping everything from the luofu onto the databank from his phone

he is also in vidyadhara nesting mode probably

so it's just a mess of clothes, blankets, wings and a tail in this strange huddle

maybe you can convince him to get out of the databank and ditch his futon on the floor

── 𝐉𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐘𝐔𝐀𝐍.

he loves being a little bit lazy, so he's probably come home earlier than he should be (don't tell fu xuan)

he's watching as you build your nest on his bed and he just chuckles and comes to help you set up PRIME abode

you have to convince him to do some of his work in the nest though, otherwise he'll just sleep under your wing

the birds that hide in his hair are living for the nest though, they all come out to have fun

the birds will preen you in your sleep ;v;

you'll be taking a nap and they're out doin whatever and then they start hoppin all over your wings and preening your wings

they don't let jing yuan do it for you, they nip him if he tries and that's the only time they'll be somewhat aggressive to him

this also sucks if you experience any form of heat or rut

all of his birds and his partner are going THROUGH it and you're all such a handful

he's gotta find a way to separate you from his birds so he can spend quality time with you

── 𝐃𝐑 𝐑𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎.

he also does all his work in your little nest if he isn't soaking in the bath (unlike jing yuan, he's willingly productive)

dude's a nerd, so he probably does know how to preen your wings for you if you let him

he might be reluctant to bathe WITH you if you bathe similarly to a literal bird though

thankfully he has a beeg bath though, so you have room to splash and flap the wings about

he might've gone out and bought the best blankets and pillows for you to make a nest

maybe even bought a circular bed for you both to fit so it's more nest-like

is also probably mildly annoying cause he's a smartass, so any angsty moment is kinda like guys askin if it's shark week

like a swear jar, he has a jar for how often you smack him with your wings

accident or not-

he's coping, but he loves you, so he'll stay with you in your nest and let you shove shiny things in his pockets

── 𝐀𝐕𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐄.

he lives for nesting season, this is his favourite time of year EVER, hands down

does call you baby bird all the time, but it's worse now that it's spring

sorta sad note, but he probably enjoys nesting season so much cause he feels a love and a warmth he never got as a kid-

wrapped in wings and you're a bit more possessive than you would normally be

comfy bed, naps (for you at least, he's got ipc work-)

he once went to work with a feather stuck in his clothes, but he ended up keeping it as an addition

maybe not in the original place, but definitely somewhere on his 'uniform'

would be annoying and keep saying he's very happy to satisfy any SPRINGTIME needs for you

to which you kick him out of your nest :))

he gets invited back in after a few hours, but he's got some groveling to do

── 𝐒𝐔𝐍𝐃𝐀𝐘.

he gets it, he sorta has it too

joint nest for the both of you with all your favourite blankets and pillows

obviously he doesn't have big wings like you do, but he helps preen your feathers and you get to do the same

if you nap together, he flaps his wings in your face to wake you up with a lil :3

he has all the blankets as part of the nest but his favourite blanket is your wings

kinda gatekeeps you a bit in spring, he doesn't want people he doesn't trust going near you

n he doesn't wanna leave you either, he wants to stay in the nest and cuddle and nap ;v;

probably sex as well, but-

he brings you shiny things daily, but it becomes a slight problem when you run out of shelf room

the wind power than generates from you flapping your wings in a fit is definitely more than his and he's a lil bit jealous ._.

── 𝐌𝐈𝐃𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐘𝐀 𝐈𝐙𝐔𝐊𝐔.

he's got all your care instructions in his little quirk notebook, so he's all set to be by your side all spring

he will never say no to a nap in the nest, ever

when the dorm rooms come in, you've got a sunken circular bed for your nesting habits

he has a lot of photos of you tucked in, sleeping with your wings outstretched

a lot of sketches as well cause he thinks you look oh so adorable when you're hidden away in bed

highkey wishes you could permanently live in the same dorm just to have access to your nest

turns all your loose feathers into quills for fun

he brings you shiny things if he sees them when he's out and brings them to you

he thought he'd have to convince you to leave the dorms, but it's actually the opposite way around

he likes the warmth, he likes your company, why can't he stay >:((

── 𝐓𝐎𝐊𝐎𝐘𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐅𝐔𝐌𝐈𝐊𝐀𝐆𝐄.

he gets it pt. 2

his head is actually hair, not feathers (yeah i know right-), so you'd have to teach him how to preen your wings for you

BUT you have dark shadow as well, so tokoyami has one wing, dark shadow has the other

and you get your care done twice as fast

tokoyami nuzzles his beak into the crook of your neck when you nap

probably nibbles on your wings a little bit by accident to preen you, but you don't mind, you think it's funny

he will help you tidy and make your nest, but it might cause arguments sometimes over where pillows should go

it's a bit of a squashed bed situation if you did a sleepover

the dorm beds aren't super big for this stuff, so you can't curl up that much

but you make do with what you have

── 𝐔𝐑𝐀𝐑𝐀𝐊𝐀 𝐎𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐊𝐎.

she loves spring time ;v;

the nice weather, the flowers, the warmth of your nest when you set it up

also, what a great excuse for a day in should she want one???

just say that her partner is having spring time blues and you need her with you to get through it

she brings the fluffiest blankets for you both to snuggle under, but she's still getting used to the sheer size of your nest

more squish than she thought there would be cause there's SO MANY pillows

turned some of your feathers into jewellery like earrings and probably a dream catcher tbh

she can float, so if you wanna do little flying sessions, she's so down to come

chilling in the nest with a hot chocolate and a movie or series is a great way to relax at the end of a day

she will also stroke your wings if you fall asleep before her, but she'll fall asleep soon after if you do-

── 𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐒𝐎𝐔 𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐎𝐒𝐇𝐈.

listen, he'll take ANY reason to stay home that he can, and he will be so happy to spend his day in with you

he might be a little shit and tease you for how fussy you get about your nest and your grooming

but he will cuddle with you and he will help you tidy yourself if you want him to

probably for feathers nearer your back, cause you can't reach as easily

he has a lot of photos of you sleeping in his camera roll, and if you snatch his phone in spring, it's all you

lots of little butterfly kisses all over in the mornings when you're both waking up

he also tells people to fuck off if they want either of you for something when you're actively isolating from society

his bed hair is WILD though, so maybe you have to preen him more than you initially thought

it's already a mess, but it's even more of a nest

he made a joke that you could sleep in his hair once and he spent that night in his own bed ._.

── 𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐉𝐈𝐊𝐈 𝐓𝐀𝐌𝐀𝐊𝐈.

he will combust n explode

you're so cute when you're nesting and snuggling into your bed, his heart can't take it

he thinks you're trying to kill him, but if you are, he'll die happy at least

sometimes will grow his own wings to get double wing action when you nap in the nest

he appreciates the domesticity of spring time for you and probably thinks about what this might be like when you graduate ua

but he blushes so hard thinking about a future (with you) that he hides under your wings and doesn't resurface until he has to

it's not him who has photos of you in your nest, instead it's mirio who has the photos

he permeates through the dorm walls to tell you guys things but you're usually sleeping in your free time in spring

he says it's for the inevitable wedding so he can do a presentation about how he's your no. 1 supporter

you're jealous of tamaki, cause he doesn't have to preen his wings, he just eats chicken and grows amazing wings ;v;

[imwetforyourmom]

can you do being babied by Matt head cannons?💓

being babied by matt hc’s

a/n: guys I didnt know what to do, so I went with the flow 😓

a/n 2: not her will be out on thursday btw

~

SFW

𐙚 when you cant fall asleep at night, he’ll bring you into his arms and pet your head sweetly, murmuring praising words while lulling you to sleep.

𐙚 even when you’re fully capable, he’ll bring your plate to the sink without a word, he’ll wash it and put it in the dishwasher all by himself, with his own will.

𐙚 on the topic of eating/dishes, he’ll cook for you whenever you ask, whatever you ask, he’ll do it with no complaints. he’ll sweat his ass off trying to cook you the most gourmet meal out there—even if its only a bowl of noodles.

“mattyy,” you whine, throwing your head back to give the extra dramatics. “you dont have to do all this” you mumble, looking across the counters—scattered with dirty pans, ingredients and sauces.

“excuse me!? yes I do, if my baby asks for it, ill make it even better than it already is.” he grabs your arm, pulling you into his side as his eyes stay on the boiling pan.

𐙚 when you have a simple little trip and scrape your knee or palm, he’ll be by your side too fast, his hands grabbing wherever you got hurt and inspect it before grabbing a bandaid and ‘fixing’ it.

“matt! I dont need a bandaid, im fine!” you whine, yet you dont move your limb from his grasp.

“nooo, you’re my baby, I need to take care of you.” he insists, his eyes looking up at yours, cocking an eyebrow before focusing his attention back to your scrape.

𐙚 when you’re unmotivated or just dont want to, he’ll do whatever it is that you needed done, such as, washing your hair for you, helping you get out of bed, helping you get ready for the day, you name it, hes there!

𐙚 he always, always does your laundry for you, he picks it up, he color sorts them, he washes them and folds them. as often as he fights with his brothers about their laundry, he never fights or complains about yours.

𐙚 again, even when you’re fully capable of doing anything, he still insists on him doing it for you, claiming ‘you’re his sweetheart and his sweetheart should never lift a finger’.

NFSW

𐙚 his babying doesnt stop even when in the bedroom, his coos of praises were heard behind you, his hands lightly trailed your back and occasionally groped your ass—all his gentle touches, despite the fast and rough pace he was thrusting inside you.

𐙚 even when you had a bad attitude that day, he continued to praise and baby you, but with more of a slight snark or bite to his words. he whispered a ‘praising’ sentence in your war, before delievering a harsh smack to your ass.

“wanna act like a brat today? whats with the sudden atttitude, you’re supposed to be my baby.” he mumbled, his teeth bit down on the shell of your ear as his hand trailed down your spine, making its way to your ass before smacking it.

𐙚 when his face is between your legs, licking and sucking away, he overstimulates you till you’re crying, whimpering and begging, and thats when he starts his cooing and babying, assuring you that,

“cmon pretty girl, I just wanna take care of my sweet girl.” his breath fanning over your clit, sending shivers down your spine whilst his eyes stare up into yours, a small re-assuring, know it all smirk on his face.

@luverboychris @chrissturniolosfavoritesexdoll @meg-sturniolo @junnniiieee07 @mels22lunchbox @ssilentzom @starsturni @b2cute @livvy4realll @graysturns @wh0resstuff @mattsmad @sturn-bugz @e1ias3 @sunsetsturniolos @strniolo @sturnssmuts @simply-a-simper @stunza @meerkatzthings @joemamaaa42069

@maryx2xx @mattsmad @dollyspsychoxo @mels22lunchbox @riasturns @chrissturniolosworld @ariqolyx @dollyspsychoxo

@aliceloveschris @starsturni

[distantdarlings]

ANY FEELINGS // t. nott

RATING: R / 4.6K WORDS

Theodore Nott x Gender-Neutral Reader Insert

+ SUMMARY - *Requested - based on this* As Theo plucks up the courage to ask you out on a date, you soothe your repressed feelings for the boy by filling your nights with other men.

+ WARNINGS - Mentions of smut! (But no actual). Sexual descriptions, language, gender-neutral reader, conflict between Cormac and Theo, very brief description of a fight (non-graphic), kissing, kissing w/o consent, not proofread (lmk if I missed anything!)

+ MUSIC (listened to while writing) -

Consume - Chase Atlantic

- - -

“Dude, you're gonna have to grow some balls at some point…”

“Shut the fuck up, man!” 

Theo laid a slap to the back of one of his best mate’s heads. Enzo was a great friend, but he tended to be a bit too judgmental when it came to you. 

Theo had had some sort of feelings for you since he first met you, but whether they were platonic or romantic or…something else, he wasn’t sure. 

Enzo seemed to be completely confident that Theo’s feelings for you—whatever they may be categorized as—could be chalked up to one thing only: love. 

Every time Theo heard Enzo pleading with him to just ask you out or grab your hand while he was walking next to you, he lost more patience. The boy sitting next to him was stupid, but sometimes he wondered if he should even be permitted to attend Hogwarts. 

“I don’t know, man,” Mattheo piped up. “Maybe Enzo’s right…you seem pretty into them every time we all hang out.” The dark boy diagonal from Theo shrugged his shoulders. 

“How would either of you know how I’m feeling?” Theo asked, throwing his hands up in frustration.

“I don’t know, maybe it’s because you fucking gawk at them everytime they’re around—I mean, you’re practically fucking drooling,” Enzo said, pursing his lips.

“Whatever, I am not.” 

“‘Not,’” Enzo mouthed to Mattheo, making air quotes with his fingers. 

Theo clenched his jaw and shoved the boy over, before getting to his feet.

The three of them had been sitting next to the Black Lake during dinner, hoping to get away from some of the noisy chatter in the Great Hall. 

“Look, just try it out,” Mattheo suggested, squinting against the sun. “Think about it tonight—”

“When you’re alone in bed and about to rub one out!” Enzo cut Mattheo off. Theo glared down at him in disgust. Just before he could react to what the boy had said, Mattheo smacked Enzo on the back of the head.

“No, that’s not what I meant,” Mattheo started back. “I meant to mull it over as you’re about to fall asleep tonight. That’s generally when I can get the most thinking done. It’s quiet and nonjudgmental.” 

He glared over at Enzo.

“Alright, then,” Theo sighed, pressing a thumb and forefinger to the bridge of his nose. “I guess I will.”

Once the three of them had separated and gone their own ways, Theo decided to make a change to his evening plans.

He had originally planned on following Mattheo down to the Three Broomsticks for a mug of Butterbeer, but—upon the dark-haired boy’s suggestion of staying in—he decided to head back into the castle.

He’d have a bit of a shower then take an early night so he could think about what he wanted to do. What he wanted to do about you. 

It wasn’t just the constant pressure from Enzo to ask you out that had you circling around his thoughts. He didn’t need the badgering from his friends to think about you. 

Theo thought of you all the time anyway, with little being prioritized over you. The confusing nature of the feelings came from the fact that his thoughts of you were so often varied. 

One minute, he’d be thinking of your laugh—the way you tilted your head back, eyes clenched, with mouth wide, smile glistening. Next, he’d be imagining you naked above him, begging for him to give you more.

It’d been this way forever. He wanted you in more ways than one, but just one of those ways would ruin every other. 

If Theo admitted that he wanted to be the last face you saw every night and the first you saw every morning, and you rejected him, he’d never heal from it. He needed you too much in any way to let something get in the way of that. 

So he’d held back for years and years, until, apparently, he’d started to become a little too obvious. At least, enough so that Mattheo and Enzo had noticed. 

Now, with the support—and borderline bullying—from them, he was feeling confident. Like he could actually ask you to be his.

Still, he hesitated.

He made his way through the castle, counting the sconces on the wall and running through example admissions he could give you. If he were to tell you how he felt, he couldn’t fuck it up. 

You deserved the best of him, if you even deserved him at all. Theo wasn’t much compared to you, but everything he felt for you was genuine and that wasn’t something that was so easy to explain to Mattheo and Enzo, assholes as they were.

He stopped before the entrance to the Slytherin common room, mumbled the password, and made his way through, hardly straying from his imaginary conversations.

Distractedly, he headed upstairs and prepared himself a shower. 

Mattheo said he thought the best while laying in bed, but Theo wondered if the shower might be a better alternative for him. He worried that he might not ever get to sleep if he let all of his thoughts pool into one part of his day. 

So, he shed his clothes, pulled the water as hot as it would go and stepped beneath the boiling rain. 

Between the steam and the warmth, he could’ve fallen asleep, but the thoughts of telling you how he felt kept him wired enough to focus. 

There were a thousand possibilities swirling through his head, trying to guide him in the right direction. 

He weighed a couple options back and forth, trying to let imagined scenarios play out with each, but no matter what he said or did, it always ended with him embarrassing himself, you hating him, or him accidentally setting something on fire. Never mind that last option—there was a brief consideration of fireworks. 

He let the water run across his shoulders and slip down his chest. He applied a bit of hair oils to his hands, letting the personal concoction he’d whipped up settle in his palm. He’d always had pretty dry hair but it tended to get a bit oily during this time of year, leading him to switch over to a different product—or, rather, a combination of products.

He lathered the oils in his hair and closed his eyes.

The massage his fingers applied to his head was just relaxing enough to keep his mind occupied for a second. He didn’t stop thinking of you—he never did—but he was allowed a few moments’ peace. He accepted the nurturing sensation, attempting to ignore his imagination trying to replace his hands with yours.

Then, suddenly, he got it! He knew exactly how to tell you how he felt. 

He quickly rinsed all of the remaining bubbles from his hair and scrubbed the rest of his body, before shutting the water off and whispering a small spell. In an instant, the wetness coating his body evaporated into thin air, and he was bone-dry. 

He slipped his pajamas on, gathered his day clothes, and made his way back to the dorm. 

If he was going to do this, he wanted to make sure he did it properly. He had about a thousand ideas, a notebook, quill, and ten hours to kill. Needless to say, he wouldn’t be sleeping tonight.

- - -

You set yourself down at the end of the Slytherin table and poured a bit of coffee into your mug.  

With the night you had just before, you could use a bit of caffeine. Nothing you had expected to happen yesterday did, and everything you hadn’t expected to happen had. In ten fold. 

Between the three tests, the spilled pumpkin juice all over your bottoms, the near-fight between your best friend, Draco, and some Gryffindor, you had had enough by the end of all of it. 

You had wanted to sleep after all of the activity. But, instead, you had Cormac McLaggen. 

And you had gotten all of him. From his chestnut curls to his strong arms to his hips moving against yours. Thank Merlin he was a Quidditch player with immense stamina, else the two of you never would have lasted past the third or fourth rounds. 

A smirk appeared across your face at the thought of him and everything he had given you last night. Even with how insufferable he was as soon as he decided to talk, his mouth seemed proficient in other things. 

You sipped your coffee as students began to file in, lazily scuffing their feet across the floor, urgent to get a muffin. 

Despite your urge to busy your mind with schoolwork and your plans for the day, it kept falling back to that stupid Gryffindor boy.

His fingers weren’t the most skilled, nor was the rest of his body, but he followed instructions like he was born to do so. 

But even though he had done so well for you last night, and even though he’d seemed so eager to please, your mind couldn’t help but stray when you were with him last night. It couldn’t help but stray even now. Stray to a different boy.

Theodore Nott. The most gorgeous boy you’d ever laid your eyes on. Draco had introduced you to him during your first year; he’d said their fathers knew each other. Needless to say, you’d knew you wanted to be with him from the moment you saw him.

Even when you had no others, Theodore Nott was your goal. 

Seconds into thinking about Theo, and you were already thinking about his body, and replacing Cormac’s touch with his. Just like you had last night.

Perhaps it was unfair to Cormac, but you both knew you hadn’t hooked up for ‘love’—more like mutual attraction and convenience. 

You were thinking about the way Cormac had gasped above you and the way his mouth had felt on you, then suddenly it was Theo’s mouth where his had been, and Theo’s hands holding yours to the bed. 

It was enough to make you readjust in your seat just a bit. Even your fantasies of Theo made you red in the face. How pathetic. 

But, Merlin, if it wasn’t so nice to picture…his hands running down—

“Mind if I sit here?”

You glanced up suddenly, using every bit of will power in your body not to choke and spew coffee everywhere. 

If it wasn’t Theodore fucking Nott standing right before your eyes, you might have mistook him for an angel. Your eyes widened instinctually.

“E-er, yeah, Theo…take a seat,” you said with a forced smile. 

You watched him like a hawk as he seemed to effortlessly slide against the table, taking his seat before the hundreds of breakfast items lined along the oaken surface. 

If you didn’t know any better, you figured that he knew you were staring at him over your coffee mug, but he was ignoring it. He seemed to be considering his meal options, rather than focusing on you.

“So, how are you?” you asked, swallowing thickly. He glanced up as if he’d forgotten you were there. 

“Oh, good…yeah, pretty good. How are you?” 

You felt crazy. There was no way he’d just shown up like this while you’d been imagining him in the dirtiest scenarios—it couldn’t just be a coincidence. Maybe he was a Legilimens. Or one of his friends was. Shit, wasn’t Mattheo Riddle one? 

You smiled nervously. “Uh, yeah, I’m good.” 

“Good.” He selected a mug and poured some tea.

“Yeah…” You took a sip of your coffee.

“Listen, I wanted to talk to you about—” 

A kiss was pressed to the outer point of your jawline. Slightly rough, cracked lips with a hint of stubble across the chin. Warm breath. The scent of leather polish and something earthy. Shit.

“Good morning, gorgeous,” he said against your ear, sending chills down your arms. Perhaps you had been wrong. Perhaps Cormac had been interested in more of a relationship with you, past the purely physical aspect. 

You swore Theo’s eyes widened and his face fell. He seemed almost shocked or disappointed. Or maybe that was just wishful thinking.

“Hey,” you whispered back, a bit of a smile spreading across your lips at the familiar smell. Despite your lack of real feelings for him, Cormac did make you pretty happy, at least on a surface level. 

“I’m gonna grab something to eat then head back to bed if you want to join me…,” he let his voice trail off in a joking tone as he slipped away. He headed towards the Gryffindor table, never looking back. You watched him as he walked for a few moments then turned back to Theo.

“So, McLaggen, huh?” he asked. His jaw was clenched tightly and his eyes were surveying your face. He seemed to be searching for something.

“Oh, we—er, I mean, not really,” you chuckled.

“What does that mean?” He didn’t laugh in return.

“We kind of just—”

“Whatever…it’s none of my business.” He cut you off. He took one large sip from his mug, draining its contents before turning to go. You hopped to your feet.

“Theo, I—” you started to call after him, but he was already gone. Fuck, was he mad?

You sat back down and wrapped your fingers back around your cup. Something in you deflated like it had been poked with a needle—maybe it was your heart…or your stomach. You weren’t sure.

Cormac fluttered about the Gryffindor table, talking here and there, and grabbing bits of food. Your eyes followed him, watching his every movement. 

You could see the muscles rippling beneath his pajama tee shirt—a gray cotton number that fit him in all the right places; could see the honey curls that curled over his eyes; could see the way his eyes flicked over to you every so often. Damn, the way he looked at you was so good…

But Theo was something else entirely. If Cormac was fire, Theo was electricity. 

Theo replaced everything—Cormac’s eyes, lips, fingers. It was as if every memory was being replaced by him and there was nothing you could do to control it. 

Then, before you could blink, and realize what was happening, Theo was walking back through the door. And also making a bee line for Cormac. Shit. 

You stood slowly, waiting to see if you should intervene—or to see if you were just imagining the whole Theo-interested-in-you situation. 

A few moments passed where Theo said one thing, Cormac said another, Theo pointed at you, Cormac said another thing and then laughed. Whatever he said earned a few chuckles from his friends sitting around him. 

There was a beat. 

Then Theo punched Cormac as hard as he could. 

You gasped and rose to run toward the group that had now begun to swarm around Theo. It seemed that whoever had been laughing with Cormac obviously supported him enough to try and attack Theo, because once you’d gotten over there, they’d already laid a couple punches to Theo. 

Never mind he was up against three other guys, he was holding his own. Every time they successfully landed a punch, Theo would fire back with one of his own. And he’d fire back hard. 

“Stop!” you shouted, attempting to force yourself between them. Without looking, Theo spared an arm for a moment long enough that he could keep you pushed back behind him. 

“No, Theo! Cormac! That’s enough!” You struggled against Theo. 

Finally, you’d wrestled enough that you slipped free from Theo’s guard and slipped past them. You pushed him back as hard as you could, and turned to face the other boys as quickly as you could so they wouldn’t force themselves past you. 

“All of you stop it right now!” You shouted, panting heavily from the effort it took to push Theo away. “You come with me.”

You pulled Theo behind you by his hand and exited through the looming doors of the Great Hall, leaving Cormac and his goons in shock. In their defense, a lot had happened in about five minutes.

Once through the doors, you Disapparated quickly, never letting go of Theo’s hand. You landed in your dormitory. 

A quick survey of the room and a mumbled locking spell later, the two of you were alone and Theo was bleeding. 

You conjured a bit of gauze and ointment from somewhere in the hospital wing, promising you’d return it later.

Sitting Theo down gently on the edge of your bed, you began to gently apply a bit of the soaked gauze to the cut on his cheek and the blood seeping from his nose. He hissed ever so slightly at the stinging, but kept his eyes on you.

“Why did you hit him?” you asked, finally breaking the silence. His eyes moved away from you.

A few moments of silence passed. The minute you thought he might never say something, he spoke up.

“McLaggen’s not a good guy.”

You scoffed. “Really? That’s all you have to say? You hit Cormac because he’s ‘not a good guy?’ There’s billions of people who aren’t good people that I don’t go around decking every time I see them! Why did you really hit him, Theo?”

You stared him down, demanding an answer with every glance he cast your way. 

“Because of what he said about you.” 

You were taken aback. “W-what did he say?”

***

Theo walked out of the Great Hall, trying his best to swallow the rage that was building up in his throat. Of course you were with someone. You were absolutely perfect. It was false hope for him to have thought he’d ever had a chance with you. He threw his plans from his mind. 

As he stormed through the stone halls, flashes of the way McLaggen had come up right behind you and touched you like he owned you, pissed him off so badly he was shaking. 

The way his lips had touched your cheek, the way you’d smiled so softly, the way you’d looked at him afterwards. It was clear you pitied him, but he couldn’t find it in himself to be angry with you. It wasn’t your fault. If you wanted McLaggen, that was fine. He just needed…he just needed to make sure you were being treated right. 

On a whim, he turned back around before he could stop himself, and marched back into the Great Hall. 

If Theo couldn’t have you, he at least needed to ensure that whoever did have you was treating you right. You deserved it more than anyone did.

He spotted McLaggen leaned around a couple other guys, chattering and laughing. Honestly, just the sight of the jock pissed him off. 

“Hey! McLaggen!” The dirty blonde boy glanced up, eyebrows quickly shifting from shocked to on his guard. 

“Nott.” He nodded his head toward Theo. The boys gathered around him seemed to look up to, always prepared for some kind of conflict.

If they hadn’t known any better, Theo would have guessed they assumed this was a Quidditch issue. But it wasn’t. 

“Can I talk to you alone?” Theo asked.

“What for? If this is about the Quidditch pitch this weekend, McGonagall already said—” McLaggen started.

“It’s not about that,” Theo interrupted him. He was right, Cormac did think this was a Quidditch issue. Why else would Theo want to interact with him?

“Oh, wait…this is about them, isn’t it?” McLaggen laughed, nodding his head in your direction. Theo’s jaw twitched at the thought of him talking about you.

“I just wanted to say that they’re really important to me, and I want you to take care of them.”

“What—are you their dad?” McLaggen snorted.

“No, man. But they’re a very close friend of mine and I want to ensure that you’re going to be good to them.” Theo pointed in your direction without thinking about it. 

“Who are we talking about again?” Theo’s jaw clenched at his response.

“Man, come on. I’m not asking for a lot. I care about my friend.”

“Are you sure they’re just your friend? I could’ve sworn they screamed your name last night.” 

The blood drained from Theo’s face as he heard McLaggen’s words. He was stunned for a moment.

“What did you say?” Theo muttered, barely able to form words.

“I said, ‘when I was fucking them last night, I think they said your name.’ It didn’t really matter anyways, because they were just a distraction for me. They’re not the prettiest thing, but good enough when they’re on their knees—”

Theo couldn’t handle it anymore. Without a second thought or a blink, Theo swung his fist at Cormac’s jaw as hard as he could. He didn’t know who this fucker thought he was, but he wasn’t going to talk about you like that. 

Somewhere distantly, he thought he heard you shout his name, but he’d started something he couldn’t just walk away from. 

***

“That’s what he said about you… I couldn’t just let him get away with that. Someone had to show him some consequences.” 

From the beginning, you had insisted that whatever was happening between you and Cormac was purely situational, but somehow his words still hurt. 

You were flashing between angry and sad and hurt and mortified��you didn’t know what to feel. Had you really screamed Theo’s name last night? The fact that you genuinely couldn’t say whether you did or not, made you scared. 

What did Theo think? Was he disgusted?

“Theo, I think the asshole was just trying to ramp you up,” you chuckled nervously. “I didn’t…s-scream your name last night.” The last words were little more than a whisper. You averted your eyes, finding the stone floor quite interesting all of a sudden. You couldn’t believe you were having to say that.

“Can I ask you one thing?” Theo breathed. He seemed much closer to you now, then he had been before. His breaths mingled with yours slowly…melodically…

Your eyes flickered between him and the floor, only viewing him through split seconds where his darkened skin flashed against the sunlight outside. Fuck, he was beautiful. 

How many times had you imagined tracing that olive skin? 

“Er, yes, of course,” you said distantly. “You can ask me anything, Theo.”

“Have…you ever…” 

His words came out thickened and slow, as if they were honey dripping from his lips. They poured wetly through his teeth, hot and searing. You could feel them cover your body, pouring delicately over your skin and covering your mind. The syllables that left his lips had your head spinning. You felt as if you might be sick.

“...had any feelings…”

His lips shuddered slightly between words, his eyes were looking directly into yours, the contact never wavering. You had plucked up the courage to stare up into those oceanic features, but just enough to get the gist of what he was asking. You couldn’t bear to look at him as you debated your answer.

“...for me…?”

Fuck.

Your eyelids fluttered closed. A deep sigh pushed from your nostrils as your lips pinched together. If you had known that sleeping with Cormac McClaggen would somehow set into motion the timeline that would out your long-lived crush on Theodore Nott, you’d never have said yes to the bastard. Besides, it wasn’t as if you weren’t thinking of Theo the whole time—so much so that you apparently had “screamed his name.” Merlin, this was the most embarrassing thing that ever happened to you. 

“Theo, uh… I don’t know if this is a good—” you started.

“Please,” he shuddered, his gentle hands pressing softly to either cheek. He tilted your head upwards to force more eye contact. The physical touch had you reeling. You had never been so close to him before, except for in your mind. “If you have, I need to know. I will not force anything from you, but I need to know.”

Your eyes flickered back and forth nervously as you summoned any strength that was left floating around in your fleeting esteem. You wanted so badly to tell him. Tell him about all those dinners you’d left early because your mind was so clouded with thoughts of him, about all of the classes you’d been called on to answer a question you weren’t even aware was being asked because you were too busy sketching him in your books, about all of the nights your fingers had slipped beneath your silk covers to pleasure yourself from a mere thought of him. 

A glimpse of him in your mind’s eye had been more than enough for years and years, but now—with your head cradled beneath his strong hands—you feared it’d never be enough again.

“Yes,” you choked out. The word came out small and harmless, as if you’d been holding your breath for too long before letting it out. 

And before you were able to wrench your face from his grasp, he’d leaned down and pressed his lips to yours. 

A muffled yelp of surprise slipped out between the two of you, but he swallowed the noise with a deep sigh. Despite never imagining this was how your confession of love would go, you couldn’t help but appreciate that it was happening now. 

Everything in you urged you to pull away and demand he leave for assuming you wanted to be kissed. But the child harboring a deep love for the boy they’d spotted on the train all those years ago pushed you to curl your fingers into the soft, brown strands atop his head.

A slight moan, almost in that of relief, was pressed into your mouth. His hands released your face and wrapped around your waist, clutching tightly to your waistband. He pulled you closer to him, his chest bumping yours. 

He wanted you, he wanted you, he wanted you, and he’d fucking gotten you. He reminded himself to punch Enzo and Mattheo in the gut when he got away from you. That was, if he ever pulled away from you. The feel of your lips on his was something out of a dream—one that his wildly imaginative mind could not have even mustered up. 

And finally, after years of debating, a shitty one-night stand, and thousands of shower pep-talks, Theo had finally worked up the nerve to taste your lips. And you had finally worked up the nerve to swallow your pride and confess your love to Theo, rather than projecting it through other vectors. 

And though the two of you would eventually pull apart, giggle quietly to one another, and announce your newfound infatuation for each other to all of your friends the following day, you still couldn’t shake the feeling that something was quite right. Everything had fallen into place except for one thing. 

Theo, as you would soon come to learn, always knew when something was wrong—oftentimes even when you didn’t realize it yourself. He would come to prove this many times over the following years of your relationship, but none better than when he had managed to learn a spell just for you. 

A spell that completely evaporated all of Cormac McClaggen’s clothes from his dormitory—and his body—whilst in the middle of Defense Against the Dark Arts. 

“That’ll show the fucker,” Theo had whispered into your ear amongst the loud bickering and laughing. 

- - -

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[stars1997]

Pls do a long freaky Quinn smut:)

Fantasies

sorry that I that i haven't been posting. i will be doing my best to get to all my request! hope you enjoy this one!

Paring(s): Quinn x reader

Warnings: (18+) smut, shower sex, jerking him off, unprotected sex, vocal Quinn, oral, some spanking, some hair pulling

(Not edited)

2.2K words

Summary: Quinn and you visit his family for Christmas. Quinn and you end up doing it in his childhood bedroom.

______

This year you and Quinn were going to spend Christmas with his family. Last year the both of you spent it with your family. Even though you and Quinn have been together for two years now you haven’t really spent much time with his side of the family. You never really understood why. Whenever he went to go spend time with his family there was always stuff stopping you form going. College was a big reason why.

But you graduated this summer so now school isn’t in the way, and you don’t start your job till the beginning of January, Quinn to this opportunity to bring you home with him for Christmas this year. You obviously said yes. Excited to finally spend more than one day with his family.

But now as you pack your bag you grew more anxious. Your foot taps fast against the carpet. You mumble to yourself about what else you should be packing when a pair of arms wrap around your waist. You let out a gasp.

“Quinn!” you turn so you’re now facing him.

“I could hear you tapping your foot all the way in the living room. Why are you nervous? You have meet them many times and they love you.” both of his hands rest on your lower back keeping you pressed against his body.

“This is the first time that I’m spending more than a day with your family. What if they change their minds and end up hating me.” You pout. He kisses the top of your head.

“Now why would that happen?” you shrug your shoulders then rest your head on his chest.

“I need to finish packing.” You mumble.

“You should pack that one dress that I like.” He smiles down at you. his hands squeeze your butt making you gasp and smack him on his chest.

“Get out so I can pack in peace.” you try to push yourself out of his grip. But he doesn’t let up.

“How about I help you pack so I can pack all the things I think you should wear.” You laugh, shaking your head before responding.

“If you packed my bag the only thing that would be in there would be my lingerie. So no, but if you want to stay in the room feel free to sit on the bed and don’t distract me because I will forget something if you do.” You poke his chest as you talk.

“Yes ma’am.” He does a little salute before letting go of you to go sit on the bed.

By the time you finished packing it was almost dinner time. You and Quinn order take out form your favorite Greek place and spent the rest of the night watching tv. You both ended up falling asleep on the couch. You woke up the next morning to Quinn shaking you awake.

“Honey its almost time to go so we can get on the plane. I already put the bags in the car and laid out your clothes for today on the bed. You just need to get ready then we will be on our way.” His voice was soft as he talked to you. you sit up on the couch taking a minute for your eyes to adjust to the lights that were on in the apartment.

You look out the window to see that it’s still dark out. You let out a little huff before getting up off the couch. Whenever you have to wake up early for something Quinn is always gentle with you. he knows that you’re not a morning person, so he always does things to make your morning just a bit easier.

It didn’t take long for you to get ready, no more than fifteen minutes. the car ride was quick too. when you finally got onto the plane and settled into your seats you were asleep with your head resting on Quinn’s arm.

_

When you got to the house you were greeted by everyone. Luke and jack helped Quinn bring your bags to your room. Ellen grabbed your hand and brought you inside. She was talking your ear off and asking you a bunch of questions before Quinn made his way back to you.

“Mom, leave her alone.” Quinn huffed out as he wraps his arm around your waist pulling you into his side.

“Fine I have to finish making dinner anyway. Everyone be in the kitchen for six o’clock please. Now you guys go change and shower to get the planes germs off you.” Ellen gave you a soft smile before Quinn pulled you upstairs and into his childhood bedroom. Quinn basically pushes you into his room closing the door shut behind him.

“You and I are so having sex in here before we leave. That’s a promise.” You let out a little giggle at his serious tone. “Don't laugh at me. 16-year-old me would high five me for sleeping with such a hot girl in my room.” You giggle again.

_

You have been with the Hughes family for a few days now. Christmas passed and they all got you a present. The rest of the family is out grocery shopping. You said you were going to stay behind to pack up your bags because you have to leave in two days. Quinn said that he was going to stay behind to help you, no one batted an eye and let the two of you stay behind.

You were bent over the bed putting Quinn’s cloths into his suitcase right above yours. Quinn comes up behind you giving your ass a hard slap.

“Exactly how I wanted you. your ass looks so good in these leggings baby. Fuck I’m getting so hard just looking at you.” he’s now standing behind you his hands on your hips.

“Fuck. Baby, please can I fuck you. I need you so bad right now.” he grinds his hard cock into you as he kisses your shoulder.

You would be lying if you said you didn’t want him too. you grind against him, matching his movements. he moves you over so he can push the suitcases out of the way before he bends you over the bed.

He spreads your legs with his hands before getting down on his knees. He grabs the seam of your leggings and rips them. You let out a gasp. he moves your underwear to the side before he dives right in to eating you out. His tongue sliding in and out of you a few times before he moves his mouth to suck on your clit.

“Fuck Quinn. Don’t stop please. Need more, please.” He was quick to answer your request by sliding two fingers into you. you scream his name your hands gripping the sheets.

His other hand comes up to slap your ass. Quinn loves eating you out he could do it all day if you let him. but Quinn knew that you had limited time. He pumped his finger a few more times before completely standing up. you hear shuffling behind you but only for a second.

His cock now resting on your ass for a second before he lines his tip with your entrance slowly pushing in. he didn’t wait too long before he started pounding into you.  you let out a moan. Reaching one of your hands behind you to grab on to him.

one of his hands rest on your hip as he thrusts into you his other hand now holding onto your wrist. he slows his thrust down a little so he can spread your legs wider.

“Give me your other hand. good girl.” you bring your other hand behind your back. his hand now wrapped around both of your wrists.

“Now you got to keep quiet for me. Do you think you can do that?” his thrust now picking up again. you nod your head in response not able to form any words. he gives you a little slap on the ass.

“Fuck. you like this don’t you? you liked being fucked knowing that my family can come home any minute. You like the idea of being caught don’t you baby? That why you always make me fuck you in the car after a game.” all you could do was let out little moans with every thrust. His words turning you on even more.

“You know you’re the first girl I have ever fucked in my room. Aah fuck. You’re squeezing my cock so tight baby, fuck.” He let go of your hands so he could grip your hips with both of his hands. He starts pulling your hips to match his thrusts. You could feel yourself getting closer to your release.

Your hands grip the sheets your knuckles turning white. You have to bite your tongue to keep from letting out a moan.

“Good girl. Fuck your doing so good baby. Cum for me, fuck.” You let out a moan. Quinn was quick to follow behind you. his movements stop as he cums inside you.

He grips your hair and pulls so your body is now up right. He turns your head so he can see your face. He kisses your lips.

“You did such a good job baby. Your always so good for me. How about we go and take a shower and ill help you get cleaned up.” you give him a lazy smile and nod your head.

-

Luckily for you guys’ Quinn had a bathroom that was connected to his room. You followed Quinn into the bathroom. He turned on the water and after a few minutes stuck his hand in to feel the temp of the water. When he took his hand out, he turned around to look at you, you were taking of your bra.

He pulled you closer to him by your waist, kissing you all over your face then moving down your neck. His lips stop between your tits before he grabs one of them and wraps his lips around your nipple. He flicks his tongue a few times before sucking. Your head fell back as your hands move to his hair.

Your grip on his hair was tight. Pulling hard on it as he continues to suck on your nipple. He lets out a grunt with every harsh tug on his hair.

“Quinn, please.” You breath out.

You don’t know exactly what you were asking him to do but you needed him again so bad. he took his lips off you before pulling down your pants and then taking off his cloths.

You both make your way into the shower. the nice warm water hitting your skin. you put your hair under the water before reaching over to your shampoo putting some in your hand before rubbing it into your hair.

You and Quinn took the time to just enjoy the quiet but all your brain could think about is repaying the favor. You grab the soap and lather it up on the scrubby, rubbing it up and down Quinn’s back. you bring both your arms around the front of his body bringing both your hands to his chest. You scrub his chest, brining your other hand down to his cock. you wrap your hand around the base of his cock stroking it slowly, your thumb swiping over the tip. His hand wraps around yours, moving your hand faster.

“Fuck, yes. God your hand feels so good. I love when you jerk me off. I love your hands on me baby.” You squeeze his cock; he lets out a hiss.

“Fuck, baby, don’t tease me. You know just how to get me off, you always have.” You let out a giggle. You focus on his tip for a second before going back to stroking him.

“Yes, oh god yes. I’m going to cum.” He grunts his hands move to the wall in front of him so he can support his weight as he cums.

He turns to face you, smiling at you. he grabs your face and kisses you hard.

“I love you so much!” he kisses you again. before pulling you under the water with him letting the water run down your face.