#steel princess header

[hiloedits]

— aidenelsa headers

like or reblog if you use/save.

© hiloedits on twitter.

[evacrstairs]

i love you, ain't that the worst thing you ever heard?

deviant king (aidenelsa) headers. like or reblog if you save or use. please! 🍫

art by seijousai comms by rooksagies

[adrianvokov]

aidenelsa headers, royal elite.

[yuujispinkhair]

I WANNA BE YOUR ENDGAME – Chapter 01

🏒❤️ A Hockey Romance feat. modern!Sukuna

Pairing: HockeyPlayer!Sukuna x Reader (female) Genre: College AU, Hockey AU, fluff + smut Playlist: I wanna be your Endgame Word Count: 3k Warnings: 18+, smut in later chapters. Fuckbuddies to lovers. Sukuna smokes a cigarette in this chapter. Reader is a creative writing student. Sukuna is an ice hockey player + history student. This story will have approximately 10 chapters. Minors don't interact. Header by me. Divider @/benkeibear

MASTERLIST

The first time you meet Sukuna, you literally run into him.

It's a Thursday morning. You are running down the hallway while rummaging through your bag, searching for the printed copy of the short story that you have to hand in today. The irony isn't lost on you. The story contains a scene quite similar to this. But unfortunately, you aren't a rebel princess running out of a ballroom with her cloak dramatically billowing behind her. You are just a creative writing student in a mismatched pair of sneakers who is late for her class. The second time this week. To a class taught by a professor who sees it as a personal affront if someone shows up late.

You grit your teeth, trying to run even faster, when you finally see the printed copy you were looking for. You cheer inwardly. But your relief is short-lived. Because a second later, you crash into a solid wall.

You screech in shock, the force of the impact making you flat-out keel over without any warning. This will hurt, is the only thought that flashes through your mind. But a millisecond before you hit the hard floor tiles, your fall gets stopped, and you get pulled up again and set back on your feet. Everything happens so fast that you can only blink in confusion.

A pair of well-defined, tattooed arms comes into view. You stare perplexed at them, realizing that they are what stopped your fall. And what you also realize at that moment is that the "solid wall" you slammed into is the tall and muscular owner of those strong arms.

Your face is currently only inches away from his chest. A broad and buff chest in a soft-looking white hoodie with a very familiar crest embroidered on the front. Two crossed hockey sticks and a tiger with glowing red eyes and his mouth opening in a feral-looking growl.

Your head snaps up to look at the face of your savior (and the cause of your fall), and what already began to dawn on you gets confirmed the moment you see the tattoos on his handsome face: You just ran full speed into Itadori Sukuna, the star player of the ice hockey team. The Red Tiger himself, The King of the Ice, and whatever other titles he gets called.

Even though you are hardly a hockey fan, you know Sukuna. Everyone knows him.

Sukuna gets treated like royalty on this campus. He's a living legend. The star player of The Red Tigers, the most successful ice hockey team this college has brought out in over five decades. And Sukuna is the reason for that success.

You gulp hard and take a hurried step back.

Out of anyone you could have crashed into, why did it have to be him? Sukuna is feared on and off the ice. You have never spoken to him personally, only saw him from afar while heading to class or when you were at the same party as him, but his reputation as a bad boy precedes him. And the way he looks with his face tattoos and his strong and tall build only adds to those assumptions. Sukuna is definitely a very intimidating guy.

Your automatic response is to try to make yourself look as harmless and cute as possible, smiling a sheepish, apologetic smile at him.

"I'm so sorry! I was late for class, so I ran, and I didn't see you. Sorry!"

You look up at him with big eyes and a nervous smile, steeling yourself for a scolding.

But Sukuna just eyes you with an amused expression on his tattooed face. His eyes travel lazily over your face and body, making you more nervous with each passing second. You feel your cheeks become hot when Sukuna's gaze finally lands on your mismatched shoes, and the corners of his lips twitch.

You silently curse yourself for snoozing your alarm one too many times and ending up like this in front of the hot boy hockey star of all people!

Sukuna is looking directly into your eyes now, his lips lifted in a lopsided smirk.

"I don't mind getting bodychecked by a pretty girl like you. It would be different if it were an opponent on the ice, but you will get away with it, princess."

You are dumbfounded for a moment, mouth opening and closing several times. Is he mocking you? You eye Sukuna wearily as you mutter,

"Um, well... Thank you for catching me before I landed on the floor."

Sukuna just looks at you a moment longer with that lazy grin, and then he bends down to pick up the bag you dropped. He pushes it into your arms, and you grab it instinctively and hug it tightly to your chest as if it is your lifeline.

"And thank you for the bag."

You add while once again smiling sheepishly at him. Sukuna laughs softly, cocking his head and looking at you with an infuriatingly smug grin,

"Don't thank me so much. If it weren't for me, you wouldn't have fallen in the first place."

"Yeah, I guess that's true. But still, thank you."

You cringe at your own words, sure that you sound like a total idiot, but you force yourself to smile broadly at Sukuna and wish him a nice day before you turn around and walk toward the creative writing classroom on rather wobbly legs. At least you don't have to hurry anymore, you think grimly. By now, you are definitely too late.

There's a prickling feeling on your neck as if you are being watched, and you are pretty sure that if you looked over your shoulder, you would see Sukuna still standing there and looking at you with that amused glint in his eyes.

You refuse to give in to the urge to check if you are right and instead keep walking. But your pulse is still racing. From the almost fall or from Sukuna's presence, you aren't sure.

You slip into the classroom, and your professor sends a death glare your way, snapping at you for not taking her course seriously and all thoughts of a certain pink-haired, tattooed hockey player are wiped off your mind as you mutter an apology, and you hurry to the nearest free seat.

You encounter Sukuna again a few days later.

You stand outside the Gojo Hall waiting for your dormmate Nobara when you catch a flash of pastel pink in the corner of your eyes. You lift your head and spot not only one pink head but two. The Itadori twins exit the building side by side, Sukuna, and Yuuji, both wearing their white team hoodies, making you wonder if there is some rule that the players must wear their team apparel 24/7.

You are still contemplating the secret rules of the hockey team when the brothers give each other a high five, and Yuuji leaves with a big smile on his face while Sukuna turns his head, and his gaze instantly lands on you.

Your eyes widen, feeling like the deer in the headlights. You curse yourself inwardly. Why did you let him catch you staring at him?

A smirk appears on Sukuna's tattooed face, and to your horror, he strolls towards you.

You try to act cool, nodding lightly at him, a short greeting in passing. Only to feel your heart jump to your throat when you realize that Sukuna won't just walk by. The resident hockey star stops beside you and casually leans against the brick wall right next to where you stand.

He lets his head fall back and tilts his face to the side, smirking down at you.

"No mismatched shoes today?"

You can't help it, a laugh bubbles out of your chest even as you feel your face get hot. You shake your head,

"Wasn't really my style."

"And here I thought you were some fashion icon or something. Did you make it to class in time after our little accident?"

You scrunch your nose as you remember the angry look and the mean comment your professor sent your way and shake your head,

"No. And now my professor hates me even more."

Sukuna laughs softly. He is so tall that you have to tilt your head back to look at his face. He looks good. Too good. Dangerously so. His pink hair is a pretty contrast to the dark red brick stones behind him. His angular face with the sharp jawline is accentuated attractively by the black lines inked into his skin. A second pair of eyes is tattooed right under his real ones, sitting high on his cheekbones, giving the impression that he is always watching you.

Sukuna is beautiful in a classic way, but at the same time, his tattoos and the way he carries himself make that beauty darker. Beautiful, like a fallen angel, maybe. His looks and his personality give him a dangerous aura. He is undeniably very intimidating. But the way he jokes around with you and looks at you in that playful manner makes you feel surprisingly at ease. Maybe that's why you grin at him and ask,

"What about you? Did your professor get mad, too?"

Sukuna shakes his head.

"Nah. I wasn't on my way to class. I had a team meeting."

You raise a skeptical eyebrow, remembering the empty hallway.

"But I didn't see any of your teammates."

Sukuna's smirk grows bigger, and he raises an eyebrow, too, as if it is a challenge.

"Because I work out all the tactics and do the analytics and shit, so I have to be there before anyone else. Setting up everything, you know?"

You nod slowly, not saying it, but you are surprised and even a bit impressed by his statement. Judging by his looks and reputation, you wouldn't have taken Sukuna for the type of guy who bothers with tactics and stuff. You always assumed he solved everything with pure strength and brutal fouls. Apparently, you were wrong.

Sukuna hums and shoves his large hands casually into the pockets of his grey sweatpants, pulling out a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. He wears black nail polish, you realize, and somehow that fact is so fascinating that you find yourself unable to look away from his long, tattooed fingers as he gracefully lights a cigarette and takes a deep drag that makes his eyelashes flutter.

Sukuna then holds the still-open cigarette pack out to you, wordlessly offering you one. You decline with a shake of your head and a:

"I didn't know hockey players smoke."

You are met with another of Sukuna's boyish smirks that makes him look way too charming. He cocks his head, eyes sparkling with amusement, low voice dropping to an almost seductive purr,

"And why not?"

You shrug, making an indecisive gesture with your hands,

"Isn't it making you slower or something?"

Sukuna huffs softly, looking smug when he says,

"Well, even if I smoked two packs a day, I would still be the fastest one on the ice, so I guess I will risk it."

You laugh. And as you do it, you realize, to your astonishment, that you feel surprisingly relaxed around the star player and resident bad boy.

You watch him nod towards a group of guys passing by, who congratulate him on the latest win. Followed by two girls who giggle and twirl their hair as they look at him and coo his name as if he is some pop star.

But Sukuna doesn't seem to see anything out of the ordinary. He just lazily blows out his cigarette smoke, not blessing them with more attention than a bored smirk.

Yes, he is a bit of an arrogant asshole and the way people treat him like he is a King or something is super irritating. But you can't deny that Sukuna has a certain charm. Lots of charm! All in all, the resident starboy doesn't seem so bad.

He is looking at you again. A deep gaze that makes your pulse accelerate with how inquiring and intense it is. As if he sees right into your very core.

"Why are you standing in the smoking area when you don't smoke?"

That catches you off guard. You blink and look around, searching for a smoking sign or something similar, but you don't see anything like it.

"Um... I didn't know this was the smoking area. I am just waiting for my dormmate."

After a moment, you add,

"I'm a secondhand smoker, though. Does that qualify, too, or are you gonna make me leave?"

You have no idea why you talk that way. Almost like you are flirting with Sukuna! He grins at you like a devil, attractive and playful and a little bit dangerous as he leans closer to you.

"You don't have to leave, princess. I'll make sure to blow my smoke your way if you are so into passive smoking."

You can hear the amusement in his low voice as he teases you. And he said it again, that name. Princess.

You are pretty sure that Sukuna calls a lot of girls that way, and it's pretty cliché, and coming from any other guy, you would probably find it cringe. But the way Sukuna says it, in his low, velvety voice, while he has that teasing smirk on his handsome face, makes you feel a strange fluttering in your stomach.

But you don't give him the satisfaction of letting him see the effect that stupid word has on you and instead roll your eyes playfully, looking challengingly at him, grinning just like he does,

"Go on then. I don't mind the smoke."

And Sukuna's eyes glint in amusement, never looking away as he leans down to you and takes a deep drag from his cigarette. He pulls it away from his lips and slowly blows the smoke into your face while watching you with half-lidded, cat-like eyes, smirking when he sees that you really don't turn away.

You shake your head and chuckle, feeling like you are sixteen again, and try to infiltrate the cool kids' clique by hanging around near their usual smoking spot. It's a bit stupid, maybe, but also fun.

Sukuna looks pleased, the tip of his tongue gliding over his front teeth as he grins at you.

"Good girl."

You bite your lip, looking up at him with big eyes, finding it hard to breathe suddenly, but not because of the cigarette smoke. You are relieved when Sukuna pulls away and announces,

"Well, it was nice sharing my smoke with you, but I have to go to the gym now. See you around, princess."

He winks at you and flicks the half-smoked cigarette gracefully to the floor, crushing it under the soles of his red and black Nikes.

"Have fun at the gym!"

Your voice sounds too chipper in your sorry attempt to act as if nothing happened, and Sukuna's eyes glitter with that seemingly ever-present teasing expression as he lets them trail over your face once again. He lets out a low chuckle and then jerks his tattooed chin at you in a casual goodbye gesture before he walks away with large, confident steps.

You watch him leave, laughing under your breath.

Sukuna definitely has a strong effect on people. He is confident and sexy, and a bit dangerous. But he also has a boyish charm that makes it easy to talk to him somehow. And it also makes it very hard not to stare after him.

Your gaze is still glued to Sukuna's tall figure and his broad shoulders when Nobara suddenly pops up beside you, making you jump when her elbow connects sharply with your side.

"What is going on between you and our hockey star?"

"What?"

"What were you talking about with Sukuna? And why are you staring after him like that?"

"Nothing. And I am not staring! I just... I ran into him a few days ago when I was late to class. Literally ran into him. That guy is like a wall. I bounced off him and fell. But he caught me. And yeah, that's all."

Nobara is staring at you with comically big eyes and a shocked, open-mouthed expression on her face,

"Why didn't you tell me about that? And now you're chit-chatting with him? Are you friends or what? Or are the two of you fucking?"

"Excuse me? No! Why would you even think that? I just exchanged a little small talk with him, Nobara! That is all!"

She huffs dramatically and pushes her ginger hair behind her ears,

"Good. Because he is an asshole. On the other hand, he is hot, but I think the asshole thing outweighs the sexiness. Maybe you could fuck him once just to get a taste. I mean, he is probably good in bed. And then you can avoid him and..."

"Hello? I don't plan on fucking Sukuna!"

You roll your eyes exasperatedly and push yourself off the wall you were leaning against, quickly walking away so Nobara won't see how flustered her words make you.

It's stupid, though! You really don't plan on getting involved with Sukuna! You barely know him, and just because he has a pretty face, a good body, and a bunch of sexy tattoos doesn't mean you want him!

Oh, are you sure about that, my dear Reader? Because I personally already want him ;)

Thank you so much for reading the first chapter!! I am so excited to finally share this story with you! I wrote some HockeyPlayer!Sukuna headcanons last year, and I couldn't get that version of him out of my mind again, so I knew I HAD to give him a new multi-chapter story. I am already deeply in love with this man, and I am so happy that I can indulge in him for several chapters now ;)

I hope you enjoyed the first chapter! Comments and reblogs would be very sweet ❤️❤️

In Chapter 2, Reader will see our sexy hockey star actually play.

[clownowo]

I think that if Miles Edgeworth were to ever have a Tumblr blog it would be entirely Steel Samurai based with a carefully organized tagging system. He posts lengthy formally worded analysis about Steel Samurai and nothing else. He doesn't check his notes. He does check his asks, because they're kind of like emails. He has anon asks and dms turned off. Someone sends an ask about his interests outside of Steel Samurai and he immediately blocks them. He doesn't have pronouns or a name to be called by in his bio. The only hint about Edgeworth's personal life is that when he refers to the death of Jack Hammer or the conviction of Matt Engarde he only refers to Phoenix as "that man".

Maya definitely has a tumblr and it has a canon Pink Princess url. She actually hoarded a bunch of Pink Princess urls long before the character was officially announced because she knew she needed to have them. Her tumblr header is "the real pink princess ask sal manella". Her pinned post has these

[ID: Two blinkie banners. The first has a lesbian flag background and says "Pink Princess is canonically gay." The second is light pink and says "PinkSteel shippers dni". End ID] (thank you @princess-of-purple-prose)

Maya follows him and sends Edgeworth asks periodically. He thinks she's a wonderful conversationalist. He has no idea of her identity. Maya is fully aware he's Edgeworth.

[randomestfandoms-ocs]

Newly Named OCs

thank you thank you thank you @cecexwrites for talking me off the edge of a metaphorical cliff and helping me figure all of this out let's go

Upcoming Plot Bunnies (not going to share details now bc I'll post their asks once I make headers)

Vanya Baker – Gilmore Girls, x Max

Lillie Ledger – Bridgerton

Theodosia Byrd – Bridgerton, x Benedict

Samira Devlin – Supernatural

Archie Quinton – Doctor Who

Zenais Rosier – Harry Potter, x Pansy

The Society

Claire Tomkins ( Olivia Holt ) — Elle’s twin sister, thinks Campbell is a sketchy ass bitch

Luca Clarke ( Froy Gutierrez ) – poly Sam & Grizz OC, chaotic rich football player and leads the guard after Grizz goes on the expedition, hates Campbell

Camryn Clarke ( Madelyn Cline ) – poly Hallie OC, Luca's step sister and best friend, also Harry's best friend, rich bitch wild child

Jurassic World (blame Cece)

Joss Murphy ( Madelyn Cline ) – Lex's daughter, head empty

Courtney Krill ( Kristine Froseth ) – Vivian's younger sister, waitress on the island, x Matthew Steele

Matthew Steele ( Tom Holland ) – bar tender on the island but wants to one day work in the research & development department, x Courtney Krill

Miles Shepherd ( Chris Evans ) – runs security on whichever exhibit Devon runs, x Devon Grady

Elijah Lewis ( Dylan O'Brien ) – head 100% empty, x Raegan Mitchell

Everest Ledger ( Tom Hiddleston ) – head empty, future oc ship but can't decide between a few options

Tanner Kane ( Brenton Thwaites ) – head empty, future oc ship but can't decide between a few options

Kai Forrest ( Josh Hutcherson ) – head empty, future oc ship but can't decide between a few options

Decker Haynes ( Dwayne Johnson ) – head empty, future oc ship but can't decide between a few options

OUAT

Ariana Galanis / Ariadne Bayern ( Nicola Coulghan ) – Bluebeard's final wife, but Bluebeard is Peter Pan. Hook rescued her from being the latest sacrifice and hid her in the Enchanted Forest, but then the curse happens

Marigold "Goldie" Thistle / Thumbelina ( Sabrina Carpenter ) – Thumbelina, fairy princess, just vibes

Kieran Iverson / Ambrose Morvan ( Aaron Tveit ) – in the Enchanted Forest he was a travelling musician/writer but Regina killed his first love, he ended up leading a band of rebels fighting against her reign, tbd what he's doing in Storybrooke, x Pearl Gale

Bridgerton

Hermione Bridgerton ( Millie Bobby Brown ) – Hyacinth's twin, just vibes

Callum Linfield ( Henry Goulding ) – head empty just vibes, x Euphemia Bridgerton

Thomasin Elkins ( Anne Hathaway ) – widow in the ton, friends with Violet & Agatha (and Charlotte?), ends up starting a flirtation with Jon Lockwood which soon turns into more

Narnia

Molly Pevensie ( Millie Bobby Brown ) – Lucy's twin, ends up back in Narnia before them in Prince Caspian, has to survive alone when there are no Narnians to help or protect her and ends up befriending Caspian

Recasts / Updates

Eulalia Rosier ( Kacey Rohl ) – Carissa Rosier's new name

Lea Aldrich ( Grace Van Dien ) – Zoe Aldrich's new name / face

Mandy Holbrook ( Olivia Scott Welch ) – Mandy Holbrook's new face

Eilwony ( Kiernan Shipka ) – Eilwony's new face

[eilaafterhours]

Different Shades: Garnet [Noctis Lucis Caelum]

Content: Smut, Consummation, Breeding Kink, She/Her, FMAB, Cunnilingus, Squirting, Body Worship, Soft

Pronouns: She/Her

Original: Shades of Red: Garnet

Header: @/boosify

Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don't forget to like and reblog!

Remember: I’ll block you if I catch your ageless or under age (not 18+) ass in my activity :)

This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.

A few months ago, if some had pulled you aside, spoken low behind a raised hand and told you:

“Prince Noctis will be proposing to you soon!” 

You would have laughed them off and would possibly still be laughing to this day.

Despite that not happening though…

You now held the title of Princess, having gone through a hurricane of preparation leading up to today. 

Your wedding

or rather 

The Consummation.

You were assured that this was not to secure an heir. 

Just an old tradition that must be upheld. 

That didn’t make you any less nervous

or horny. 

You’d caught his sly glances. It was clear that he was attracted to you.

But sometimes those crimson hungry looks would become something deeper.

A Garnet Devour. 

Finally steeling your nerves enough, you gave yourself one final check in the mirror before hesitantly opening the bathroom door. 

The room that had been prepared for the two of you had only been finished today, giving you no time to admire it before you were shoved into your bathroom, Noctis being ushered in the one adjacent. 

He was sitting on the edge of the bed, his bare back facing you, black silk pants hung low.

“You took your sweet time.” 

You startled. His voice had changed. Deeper, commanding, like he was holding something back.

Then your gaze met his.

Garnet.

Full of desire. For you.

As if in a trance, you made your way to him. Nervousness quickly being overshadowed by the dampening need between your thighs. 

Once you were in reach, he extended a hand. Pulling you to sit on his lap, hands immediately finding purchase on your hips. 

Instead of warming you up with pretty words and soft kisses, he instead slipped your robe from your shoulders revealing your breast to the cold air, nipples hardening at the sudden change in temperature.  

He didn’t waste time, mouth latching onto the right bud while his other hand fussed with the other breast.

Your breath hitched. “N—Noctis…” 

His eyes flicked up, red peaking between a current of black.  

You keened, another wave of wanting coursing through you.

“Ah,” He hummed. “I guess we’re skipping this part of foreplay.” You barely heard him in your drunken haze. 

You quickly were snapped out of that though because he roughly shifted your positions. You laid flat on your back now fully exposed while he kicked his pants off.  

Your cheeks flushed at what lay between his legs.

He was unsurprisingly perfectly endowed.

“I can’t blame you for staring.” He chuckled, then glanced at your thighs.

You shyly pulled them shut. 

He chuckled again, telling you to wait a moment, then disappeared into the bathroom. 

You simply laid there in a daze.

But only for a moment because he was already back, lifting your bottom and placing something—a towel under you. 

“Rather not have to call someone in to change the sheets.” He said as those garnet eyes took in every inch of your flushed form, a lot of that attention slick to the wet that coated your inner thighs. 

“Fuck it.” Throwing whatever caution to the wind, he lifted your legs up again 

this time pushing them closer to you and spreading your legs. 

He wasted no time, lips immediately claiming your clit. You threw your head back, biting your lip. Hard. 

He pulled back, “I want to hear you. All of it.” then went back in, dipping his tongue into your pussy then drawing a long stripe back up to your clit. 

That pulled the sound out of you, hands flying into his hair. You swear you felt him smirk. 

He was relentless, building your high faster than you could chase it. At some point, you started rocking your hips in time with his mouth, needing more friction. 

“Ah-aha! I’m—” Right as you were warning him, he plunged two fingers into your very wet pussy, curling them up to push against that spongy part that always made you—

“Fu-ah-ck!” 

Astrals. This was your first time together, and it was like he had already known your body because he did not shy away when you squirted, but instead pushed in deeper, moaning loudly.

You let him indulge until you became too sensitive. “Noctis…” You said gently, sighing when he pulled back. 

And somehow, after an orgasm like that, he made you even more flushed.

His own face was flush, chin glistening, eyes blown and ready for more. 

He wiped his chin, then crawled toward you. He grabbed your face 

and let you have a taste of yourself. 

You had to be light-headed at this point because it tasted sweeter than dessert you’ve had.

“You ready?” He asks, grabbing your hands that had grabbed his face. 

Your own eyes watched as his garnet ones softened, your answer perfectly clear. “Yes.” 

He lined himself up, sliding easily into your sopping wet cunt, groaning as he pushed himself flush against your pelvis.  You moaned loudly, eyes rolling back at the stretch.

And Astrals, was it a stretch. 

“Fuck,” Grip tightening on your hips. “You’re so fucking tight…but you take me so well.” 

“And you make me feel…so full.”

Like you were made for me. Like we were made for each other.

Was unspoken, but mutually agreed upon.

Slow, methodical strokes became rapid pumps in the chase of release. The room filled with labored breathing and slapping skin. You were on the cusp of your release, when Nocits leaned down, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. 

One final thrust against that spongy spot, he had you seeing stars, with him close after as your cunt had him in a vice grip. Your fingers carded through his hair as he trailed kisses along your neck.

Just taking time to cool off and exist alongside (inside?) one another. 

Two orgasms and you felt thoroughly fucked out,

but then Noctis suddenly pulled out, flipping you onto your stomach, then slotting back into your puffy pussy. 

He leaned down, pressing you into the mattress. “I want to fuck you full, then eat you out. Will you let me do that?” 

Your eyes rolled back. 

“Fuck yes.”

It was going to be a long night.  

:) Return of the horny, I guess

Uh, this sure is very different (and very better proofread oh my god there are so many errors in the OG one) from the original.

Not even like just my writing has changed since writing my first smut, but the plot itself. The original one was more…aggressive. The only thing I kept the same was the marriage part, lol.

Oh, also we're 1 away from 100 followers.

Also also, no masterlist because there's only two of these. Maybe if I make more then maybe. We'll see ig

1/20/24 Update: And So, there's a Masterlist

Masterlist 

[maddiesflame]

aidenelsa headers

like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame

[aidenelsas]

[vaughnedits]

aiden king headers.

like or reblog if you save it.

© devlinmurph on twitter if you use it.

[torturedpoest]

aiden king (royal elite) headers

like or reblog if you save, © romamontagv on twitter & don't repost

[hiloedits]

— aidenelsa headers

like or reblog if you use/save.

© hiloedits on twitter.

[magalidragon]

A Canon Divergence Jonerys Smutty Incest Fic  

Eep! So sorry this is a couple weeks late for the @snowxstormworld​ Jonerys Orgasmic October 2k22-- I know I teased it during the event and it still counted, but I am so sorry it’s taken me this long to actually post the full fic. I’m literally checking off fics as I write them, so on to the next! Enjoy this one and of course thank you to @youwerenevermine​ for the lovely moodboard header!

She was busy studying the bottom of her cup, visible through the last few sips of her wine, when Rhaegar stood up. He held his hands out, beaming; if Rhaegar could beam, it was more a grimace. "Welcome, welcome, my lords and ladies, to the first of what will be a week of celebration, in honor of my sister and my heir, the Princess Daenerys of Dragonstone to..."

There was a sudden murmur, the doors banging open, that had once been closed. Rhaegar froze, staring ahead, caught off guard, and Dany felt the Kingsguard around them shiver, steel whispering against scabbards in the event of a threat. She set her cup down and gazed ahead, curious at who would ever appear so late to such an important event, and to interrupt the King too.

Both double doors leading to the entry hall had opened, muffled screams from many of the ladies-- and a few men-- rippling through the over two hundred guests stuffed into the throne room. She lifted up slightly from her seat to see the commotion, but all she needed was the stiffening of her brother at her side, the sharp intake of breath that belied his still, expressionless face.

A white wolf, snowy and as large as a horse, crept silently into the hall, his massive head swinging from side to side, eyes as red as rubies, and paws as large as the dinner plates before them. He was silent; no growl, snarl, or bark to be had. He was a sentry, a protector, always watching. He reached the throne table, locked eyes with her, and lowered his head briefly, ears twitching, before he moved towards the side of the room.

Boot heels clicked on the stone, everyone silent as the late guest appeared, not a care in the world, arms swinging at his sides. In all black he might have been mistaken for a Night's Watch member, but a closer look would show that his cuffs were embroidered with silver thread, which also ran up the center of his chest, and around the collar of his coat. He had on two silver rings, glinting in the candlelight as he made his way up the center of the hall, ignoring the murmurs and stares.

[adrianvokov]

headers aidenelsa, royal elite rina kent

like or rt if u save

[slowpoke-fics]

The Run | The Good Doctor pt 3

Fandom: The Walking Dead

Pairing: Negan x Reader slow burn

Summary: You had a bit more responsibility than you'd expected, not to say you didn't know what you were doing

Warnings: none really, cussing, ooc Negan, slow burn, it's cute, I miss some and am not perfect, read at your own risk

A/N: This is part three to the Good Doctor Part 3! Thank you for being patient and I hope to have part four up much quicker. I liked this even though it's just some logistical stuff and insight, here is part two!

Maybe he thinks he can fix me, sucks for him, I'm broken beyond repair.

When you woke up, Negan had his hand on your shoulder, you immediately grabbed the gun under your pillow, holding it under his chin. He immediately grabbed the gun and twisted it out of your hands, your eyes now fully open and awake. You didn't realize he was eye level with you, how hot it was for him to control your gun like that, how hot he was staring into your eyes, waiting for your next move. You were frozen, you're not sure he equated it with anything but sleep, but he was captivating.

He laughed, hands up, "Damn, doll, just trying to fuckin' wake you up without fuckin' scaring you, see that was fuckin' pointless," his eyebrows raised as he shook the gun by the barrel at you, "you want it back or not?" You shook your head in disbelief as you took your gun and put it down, shocked that you held a gun to someone for just trying to wake you up. "I-I'm sorry, I guess it was just-" Negan laughed, "No worries, doll, at least I know you can take care of yourself."

You smiled, throwing the blanket off of you and swinging your legs over the couch, “So,” you stood up and began folding the blanket, “what’s the plan?” He watched you fold the blanket, not trying to hide the fact that his eyes roamed your body. Taking in the battered bluejeans that hugged your body, the scratched and slightly torn tank top, your hair shining against the sun, really popping the color out. “We’re going to drive a little longer than I’d hoped but,” he huffed, “the towns supposed to have some more supplies left than we’d originally thought, we should be back by dark.” You shrugged, “Should be fun, are we ready to leave now?”

Negan leaned against the desk, you took all of him in. He was wearing his classic leather jacket over the tattered t-shirt and blue jeans that laid over his steel toe boots. He watched as you put your hair into a pony tail, shirt playing peekaboo with the skin on your torso, “Right after breakfast doll. You ready?” You nodded at him, heading to the door with him following close behind.

Once you had sat down for breakfast Negan started shoveling food down, a full plate compared to your half rations. You didn’t really have much of an appetite, worried about everything that could happen with Negan today. He didn’t seem to notice, and by the time you’d finished your small plate, he was already done eating too. He grabbed your plate so he could return it with his own. You picked up the bags and followed suit, following him out the door and to his truck.

The truck was huge. Had to have been able to fit half of Alexanndria's storage. You’d wondered how much he was planning to come back with. It started to make a little more sense when a small portion of his crew jumped into the back, probably for protection. You climbed into the truck after Negan opened the door for you, closing it once he’d known your feet were out of the way. Then proceeding to climb in his own side.

Negan started the truck, taking you in before he started rolling. Your legs crossed, fingers interlocked at the top of your thighs, thumbs picking at each other, ankle continuously moving. You watched the trucks behind you, following close, at least three others. Did all of them have people in the back? How big was this run?

You were clearly nervous and he hated that, he wanted to make you as comfortable as possible. He tried to ignore it, but after fifteen minutes of non stop thought through his head, he had to say something. "God damn doll," Negan bellowed, "you're gonna roll the damn truck if you don't stop shaking so much," Negan lightly rubbed your forearm, a foreign thing to you, "what're ya so fuckin' nervous about anyway princess?"

You shrugged, a look of uneasiness resting on your face at his nickname for you that didn't go unnoticed, "Just don't know how to act with your group, what're your run rules? Where do I not be in the way? Will I distract you and your men? I'm used to going solo, or with one or two people. There's so-" Negan had to stop your monologue, knowing you've asked these questions twenty times since yesterday. "Don't fuckin' worry about it," Negan smiled, "I made sure this was gonna be fun for you." Your eyebrows curled, needing him to explain.

Negan blushed? No way, you thought and left it alone. "What do you mean?" He shrugged, "You'll see, won't you doll?" You huffed, "Well that just makes me more nervous." Negan let out a hearty laugh, "Damn girl, pull at this old assholes strings huh?" He shook his head, "I'm your personal companion today," he giggled at your slap to his arm. "I don't need a baby sitter!" He raised he hands very quickly to show defense, "No! But, wherever you go, I do. Whatever you fuckin' say, that's law. Everyone else goes at your direction too," he paused, looking at you, "but you don't leave my fuckin' sight," his eyes bore into you, demanding confirmation. "Yeah, okay," you smiled lightly.

"So," Negan's fingers drilled the steering wheel as he hummed at you to continue, "what's in this place?" Negan shifted, "It's a little town, the rest is a surprise." He looked genuinely excited, and you wondered how this apocalypse had changed him as a man. He couldn't have always been this heartless. "Do I get any hints?" Negan hummed again, this time searching for something to give you, "You'll fuckin' like it." You shrugged, "Maybe." He glanced to your bag where you keep your notebook, a gentle reminder of his broken trust. "Oh," you cleared your throat, "hopefully." He beamed at you, "Come on lil' fuckin' firecracker," he pressed the gas a couple more times, gently swerving the car to play with you, "be more fuckin' excited! I'm fuckin' kidding!"

The rest of the way you could believe how different Negan was being. He was intently talking to you about the grid of the town, what his crew already know about, how his crew has already been briefed that you're running it, explained the teams to you and that you're header, leading the team leaders, and he's told you that he's confident you have this ability. You were shocked about him being completely different man that with other people. You were sure that you could be with the man sitting in the truck with you, and you were sure that you couldn't be with the man who murdered someone you considered to be your brother. You were torn between seeing his good and never forgiving him for killing Glenn, how could he do something so vile? You shook your head, drawing attention back to the road and off of your thoughts.

When you arrived, Negan placed his hand on your thigh, just barely touching you. "There is one rule," he smiled, "stay here." Negan was gone for no more than two minutes. He finally came to your door, opening it and revealing his many men standing behind him, "Make sure you're safe." He reached for your hand, dropping you down to the same man who stole from you in your clinic, you glared him hiding behind Negan.

Negan stepped out of the way, the man looking guilty, "Hello, Doctor Y/n," he cleared his throat, "I'm sorry for stealing from an honorable woman." He handed you a gum pack, missing a few pieces, and a small pack of skittles, "I couldn't find gum to replace what I'd stolen, so I hoped that the skittles would excuse my poor manners." You smiled hatefully at him, taking what was in his hand, "Apology accepted..." you waited for him to say his name, but Negan chimed in. "Brady," and he slapped the other man on the shoulder eliciting a smile, "and Simon." You smiled, reaching your hand out to shake Simon's hand, "I've heard." Negan smiled at you, "Good we're all fuckin' aquatinted," he roughly slapped Brady's shoulder, you didn't miss the wince he tried to hide, "these two travel with us period. So, Y/n," a bright smile, "what's the fucking plan?"

With that you noticed the other men had cleared a path for you, letting you view the town. At this point you took in the town, looking at the tiny shops and small streets. Negan wasn't kidding, it's a small town, surely the four trucks you bought could fit everything. You thought for a second, and it hit you, how much work he had put into this. You smiled to yourself, knowing that he wanted to make this go smoothly for you, hence the perfect amount of trucks, a grid, briefed men.

You walked a little behind you, looking at the different streets, looking at Negan, he smiled, giving you some confidence. "You said that you'd already separated these men by trucks? With their usual teams?" You whispered to Negan, "Yes ma'am, they're with their usual team leaders and already armored, just need you to tell them where to go n what to do."

"Okay, so here's my plan-" Negan put his hand up, gesturing to the men when you realized you should be talking to them. You cleared your throat, "Okay, so here's the plan," Negan's body was just barely pressing against you, standing behind you on your left side, his hands in his pockets, watching his men intently listen to you. How hard did he work on this for you?

"If you came in Negan's truck, you're with us on main," you motioned with your hand to have them move to the side, "Truck two-or rather-team two, you're going to our left, Combs Street, when you get to the library, we're looking for education books, if we have time and space after you've gotten everything else essential on the street, comb the library taking the fun books, that's a good part of life now." Negan nodded, liking your plan for education first, noting that the houses on the street might hold value, but acknowledging that we still need distractions like 'fun books' if circumstances allowed.

"Truck three, hit the residential area, on Langley Street," you continued when the men nodded their heads, "Truck four, hit the shops to our right on second street," everyone started moving and you shouted, "wait!" You cleared your throat once again, "Team leaders, I need you and your right hand man, everyone else stay put."

You pulled out the grid as the men surrounded you, "So you've got the left and right sides on your street, split in half, half on Side A, the left, half on side B, the right, this will increase the time we can spend in the houses and avoid stepping on each others feet. Every time you clear a house you call it in, for example, team four A, you would say 'Team Four, A1 clear, moving to A2,' or 'Team Four A Trapped, requesting Four B at A3.' I need you to do this so I can designate resources and men, keep up with the lives and walkers. No need for needless death, check in." Everyone nodded, you smiled, "Anybody have questions, comments or concerns?" The men shook their heads and you turned back towards the crowd, "Alright, everyone knows what you're doing, no-one goes anywhere alone or unarmed. Take everything useful. Do not let your guard down and watch your backs. Dismissed." At that the men dissipated, going on their own assignments.

"Was that okay?" You looked to Negan, the need for approval swimming through your eyes, Negan nodded, "I think it was great, Simon what about you?" Simon chirped up, "Oh yeah, couldn't have done it better myself, I don't make them check in that much but that's okay." You smiled at Simon, wondering how he could not worry about his men that much. You watched as Team One had already started moving toward the first building, them the first check-ins started.

"Team One, heading to A1," a pause, "Team One, heading to B1," another pause, "Team Two, heading to A1." You listened to the team list off their locations, smiling as everyone checked in. "Alright, doll," Negan leaned against the truck, "Where to first?"

[carolmaximoffs]

teacher’s pet

summary: ransom gets a tutor per his parents meddling, lest his family pull all financial support. 

pairings: college! ransom drysdale x virgin! reader

warnings: cussing, dirty talk, sort-of public sex (fingering... in a library...i’m sorry), reference to drinking, brief brief mention of hookup! (not w reader), loss of virginity, oral (f! receiving) uhh it’s filth alright it’s innocent reader and ransom drysdale what did you expect

UNPROTECTED SEX BUT THIS IS A WORK OF FICTION SO PLEASE WRAP IT UP

a/n: per request by someone who’s no longer on tumblr, but i wanted to finish SOMETHING in my drafts. (i started this in...gosh, august? it’s way overdue)

You’ve got to be kidding me, is the first thought to bounce across Ransom’s brain when he walks into the library that evening in January. It’s practically deserted, except for one occupant of a back table. You’re huddled over laptop, doesn’t even notice him walk in. He studies you from the doorway for a moment.

His second thought is, she’s kind of cute. He pushes that far, far away and all but stomps over to the table. You look up with a start when he clears his throat, sliding out the chair across from you and dropping his bag unceremoniously onto the table.

“Lets get this straight,” Ransom declares, folding his hands together into one fist and tucking them under his chin. It’s a move his mother had pulled in many ‘I’m-not-trying-to-control-your-life-but’ conversations. She usually paired it with an exasperated and slightly pouty look meant to guilt him into seeing things her way. He pairs it with a glower. “I don’t need a tutor, I don’t want a tutor, and quite frankly, I don’t even want to be taking this fuckin’ course. However slash comma, I need this course, so I can get the degree, build some shit from the ground up like everybody else, blah, blah, blah. So. Let’s get started.”

The girl across from him just blinks for a second. Maybe he did come off a little harsh, but he didn’t say anything that wasn’t true. You blink for a little longer, like you’re confused. Ransom is just about to ask if you’re deaf when you speak up. “O-okay. Right. So, I spoke to your mother-“

“Fucking fantastic.” You glare.

“I talked to your mother and she-“

“Wait a sec,” Ransom interjects for a second time. Your eyes get wide, like you’re about to lunge across the table and strangle him. “What’s your name, sugar-tits?”

You pull a face at him, somewhere between murderous and disgusted. “Y/N. Can you please stop interrupting me?”

Ransom only smiles, and you continue. His mother had emailed you in depth, evidently. Told you all about how he failed last semester, desperately needs the credit, et cetera, et cetera. Great. It sounds almost rehearsed, though, not as nervous nor hesitant as everything you say after. He gets the feeling you don’t quite know what to make of him, yet, and he intends to keep it that way.

—————————

Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep.

Ransom sweeps his arm out wildly; he hears the thunk of his water bottle and the rattle of the aspirin bottle he’d preemptively put out as they hit the floor.

Be-beep. Be-beep. Be-beep.

Finally, he manages to grasp his phone, the source of the wretched noise. Christ, his head is pounding, but he swipes to answer the call without even looking. He blinks through his migraine in the gold evening light as he croaks out a hello.

“Where the fuck are you, Hugh?”

He looks at the clock - right, right. Ransom forces a laugh through his dry throat. You’re pissed, and rightfully so. “Ransom, please, princess-“

“Don’t ‘princess’ me, prick. This is the third time this week. I’ve been at the library for thirty fucking minutes!” You hate him, hate him, hate him, but it’s been a handful of weeks now, and you know he’s positively beaming on the other end of the line. “I talked to Marcus-“

“Sweetheart,” He tries again, reaching for his water,  “Marcus? C’mon, what’d I say about talking to my friends-“

“And what did I say about getting drunk off your ass the night before we’re ‘sposed to meet up? Ransom,” And you’re so angry your voice shakes and blurs with it, with the disappointment, and oh, that shouldn’t make him stir. “Seriously. Get your ass down here. I’m not letting Linda fucking Drysdale down.”

Ah yes, Little Miss Perfect, Future Miss CEO who idolizes his mother. There’s a little click as you hang up, and Ransom chuckles to himself as he takes a swig of water. He’s really considering meeting you, too; he’s just about to slither out of bed, throw on some clothes, grab his textbook. Then his latest conquest sits up beside him and stretches tanned arms, shaking long curls from her shoulders.

“Hope that wasn’t your girlfriend. I was really hoping for a round 3.”

And hell, who is he to deny a lady? (An asshole, and a liar, and an unreliable piece of expletive along with a few other colorful insults, according to the myriad of texts from Y/N. He puts his phone on silent.)

—————————

“I’m not shocked you failed this chapter twice in a row,” Your murmur as you trace your finger under the header “Strategic Differentiation is Key: Listening to and Working with Others”. It’s late spring, the library a little more crowded as more students brave the trek across campus. He sits beside you, instead of across from you, now, thigh to thigh. “You only talk to people if it benefits you. Actually, strategic differentiation is beneficial, so I guess I am a little shocked.”

“I never wanted to be a businessman,” Ransom shrugs, leaning his chair back on two legs. Your brows furrow, and you set your pen down hesitantly, like you know they’re broaching a tedious moment. The sort of thing that doesn’t occur often - Hugh Ransom Drysdale, being vulnerable. You’re quiet, though, and he finds himself continuing.

“I wanted to be a writer like my grandpa,” He admits softly, and he doesn’t know what’s made him say it - did he hit his head in his sleep last night? - but it’s out there. It hangs between them heavily. Your fingers curl around the edges of the textbook they’re sharing.

“I...That’s really sweet, Ransom,” You murmur finally in that stupid, adorable, fucking annoyingly soft way of yours. “Really sweet.”

“Yeah, whatever,” Ransom scoffs. He shrugs it off, like everything else, shifting and slinging an arm over the back of your chair. “Tell me something you’ve never told anyone.”

“I-What?”

“You heard me. I told you something, you tell me something. Call it leveling the playing field. An eye for an eye.”

“‘An eye for an eye leaves the whole world blind’,” You mutter uncertainly. You remain silent for a beat too long afterwards. Ransom leans his weight on his forearms on the table, ducking his head to speak in your ear.

“C’mon, what are you? A virgin?” He laughs at his own clever jab, but when he sits up, you still aren’t answering, face mortified. Ransom gasps exaggeratedly, grinning wickedly at his own fortune. “You are. Holy fuck. You’re a goddamn virgin.”

“Not so loud!” You hiss, slapping at his arm. You want to puke right into his stupid lap. Not that there was anything wrong with being a virgin, but hearing him say it like that... Damn him, you think, and then you huff, “Damn you.”

“Aw it’s okay, princess,” Ransom coos, and he’s mocking you, you know he’s mocking you, but something sparks in your stomach. He pinches your cheek in the way old ladies do to small children. “Nothing to be ashamed about. Not like you’re a junior in college and perfectly pretty enough to find yourself a hookup. What’s the hold-up, sugar?”

She presses her thighs together. Ransom pretends not to notice, still intent on an answer. Consumed with a combination of embarrassment and need (though mostly the former), she shrugs. “Just...waiting for the right guy, I guess.”

Ransom snorts, as if to tell her “that’s a waste of time”, or maybe because they both know it’s bullshit. But he utters nothing more on the subject, and instead picks up his pen. 

“So, I think this is what tripped me up here...” 

She can’t focus on his question. His free hand is tracing funny little patterns on her knee. 

—————————

“Ransom....” 

“Shhh,” He huddles closer to her, hushing her wary pleas. They’re at a different table, today, further in the back. He’s got a hand slipping up beneath her skirt. “Just trust me, princess. Keep on teaching me, while I teach you.”

And she does; her voice trembles, be it with nerves or need, as he dips his fingers beneath her panties. Ransom traces over her clit, teasingly, just to hear her stumble over the sentence she’s trying to explain to him. Fuck Management Skills - he was managing just fine, if he did say so himself. He prods at her entrance, gathering her slick on his finger tips, before sliding one slick digit in to the hilt. She makes a sound somewhere between gasping and choking. Ransom grins uncontrollably, ducking his head into her neck.

“So wet for me already, princess,” He whispers, a second finger joining the first. She bites her lip as he teases a third, so soon. “Come on. Focus.”

“Ransom, I can’t,” She half-whines, pages crinkling as she grips the textbook desperately. She squirms, but he’s unrelenting. “Please, we’re gonna get caught...”

“Not if you stay quiet,” Ransom replies gruffly. He experiments, just a little; they’d been making out before, after, during their sessions for a couple of weeks now. Each time, he grew bolder. Ransom hooks his fingers one instance - pumps them rapidly the next. When she’s come apart all over his hand, receiving a pinch to her oversensitive clit just to see her flinch, your lip is bleeding from biting so hard.

Ransom hasn’t learned shit about delegation, but he knows now how to make her cum.

_______________________

You’ve never been to Ransom’s before; of course, he’d swung a small apartment just on the edge of campus. Your skin trembles even as you try to steel yourself. You know Ransom hadn’t asked to relocate your tutoring session because he was tired. The two of you had practically finished the course, anyway, and he really was grasping it without your guidance at this point. You weren’t naïve; he wanted privacy.

Your suspicions are proved right as soon as you step inside. The moment you’ve toed off your shoes, he’s sweeping you into a heavy kiss, fingers twisting into the hair at the nape of your neck. His thumb presses into your throat; just pressure, nothing serious, but you still squeak. Ransom all but growls, free arm hooking about your hips.

“Jump, honey,” He says into your mouth, and you do, legs tight about his waist. He carries you through the apartment without a hitch; you knew there was some beef hiding beneath all those damn sweaters. You’re dropped a little carelessly onto what is unmistakably his bed; of course the bastard’s got silk sheets. Ransom tosses his shirt somewhere behind him, sliding cold fingers beneath your shirt. “This alright?”

And you half think it’s sweet of him to ask, but you also know his mother, and would frankly be surprised if he didn’t ask. Embarrassment and, honestly  dignity out the window, you arch into his touch. “Please.” 

Ransom makes quick work of your pants and undergarments; he’s still clad in sweatpants that probably cost more than you want to imagine as you lay naked before him. He looks more like a predator than ever, expression absolutely ravenous as he levels his face with your dripping center.

“Oh, I’ve never-” You stutter, face burning as he looks up at you as if bored with your voice. When Ransom speaks next, his breath has goosebumps crackling down your thighs.

“I know, baby. Just let me take care of you, hmm?” And all you’re capable of is a rigid nod before you’re throwing your head back as his tongue traces figure eights on your clit. 

“Fuck!” You cry, and he hums something akin to a laugh into your core. His thumbs spread you open further as his tongue laps at your impossibly wet entrance; when he sucks at your clit, you almost scream. Ransom, still teaching himself your ins and outs, reaches up to tweak a nipple, and you thrash. That’s when he sits up.

“Was so...close...” You pant, bringing your chin to your chest with more effort than should be necessary. His weight has left the bed; he’d stood to rid himself of his pants, unsurprisingly having gone commando. You’re gifted with the glorious sight of his impossibly thick thighs as Ransom smirks, pumping his thick, leaking member lazily.

“When you cum today, baby, it’ll be on my cock,” The blond promises darkly as he clambers back onto the bed. His bulbous tip slides up and down between your glistening folds, and he groans, basking and unashamed in his own arousal. “And only...gah, fuck....only on my cock.”

You whimper in response as he pushes right in to the hilt. He wiggles his hips, swivels a bit; you’re unsure of whether it’s to fuck with you or make sure he’s snug within your throbbing heat, but you moan none the less. Ransom takes this as the okay to begin thrusting, and any discomfort quickly dissipates as he thumbs at your clit in tight circles. For the first time since you’d met him, there’s not an ounce of snark or irritation; he swings a knee over one arm, managing to angle up against your sweet spot each time, and your hands scrabble for purchase on his shoulders. 

“Ransom...fuck, Ransom, please, I-” You whine as he pushes your knee toward your chest, pounding you ever harder in juxtaposition with his soft shushing.

“I know, princess, I got you,” Ransom grunts, forehead sweat-slick as he presses his face into your neck. He nips, just barely, breath coming hard and heavy. “Just let go, baby, right there with you, c’mon...” 

With a cry that has Ransom clapping a hand over your lips, you cum, legs practically vibrating as you thrash with the force of it. Ransom’s hand doesn’t leave your clit until you’re nearly sobbing from the overstimulation; just like he’d promised, moments after your own orgasm, he slips out of your channel. You can’t truly identify the feeling swirling in your gut as he spills his seed across your torso, nor as he trails two fingers through it and brings it to your lips.

“Hey,” Ransom heaves after a heavy silence, the both of you still naked with his fingers still being laved by your tongue. “Did I ever tell you about my A in Management? Grade went up like, two weeks ago. I told you that, right?”

You bite down on his fingers in reply.