#that and that i can't literally “fall” into bed

[wheels-of-despair]

I'm Gonna Love You Forever Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie gets some upsetting news and has to hide out at Evil Woman's house for a little while… it's an angsty one, kids. Contains: Fear and nightmares, bed-wetting and blood, childhood trauma and abuse, comfort and reassurance, a declaration of love. Words: 3.7k

A thwap comes from your right.

You glance over and chuckle. Eddie is lying next to you on your bed, on his stomach, and his face is planted in the middle of the history textbook he's supposed to be reading.

"Are you absorbing the necessary information better that way?" you ask, turning your attention back to a battered classroom-issued paperback.

"No," he grunts. "Need a break."

"I understand. You've been reading for a whole," you check your watch, "three minutes."

He groans.

"Finish this chapter and we'll take a break."

He groans louder, head still in his book. And then the phone rings. His head pops up. "It's Wayne, he says I gotta come home right now, can't study any more."

"Shut up," you laugh, smacking his denim-clad ass with your book as you get up and go to answer the phone.

Your brother already has it. You stand in the hallway with your arms crossed, waiting for either a hand-off or a dismissal. He covers the mouthpiece with his hand.

"Eddie's uncle wants to talk to him," he says lowly. You nod, hold up a finger, and return to your room.

"You're in luck, Munson; it really is Wayne."

Instead of looking relieved, Eddie looks concerned. It's understandable; Wayne never calls here. Eddie scrambles out of bed and skids into the hallway on his socked feet.

You sit on the bed and open your book, but don't absorb a single word... because you can hear Eddie's side of the conversation.

"What? Why? No. No. I can't. I'll stay at Rick's or something. I'll let you know. Bye."

It's tense. It's rushed. Something is definitely wrong. You toss your book aside when he hurries back into your bedroom. He closes your door and leans against it, face even paler than usual.

"You okay?" you ask, knowing the answer.

His lip begins to tremble. His eyes start to well. You're off the bed and wrapping your arms are around him in an instant. He squeezes you and buries his face in your neck.

"What happened? Is Wayne okay?"

Eddie sounds like he's starting to hyperventilate, so you guide him toward the bed. You get him to sit, then kneel on the floor in front of him and hold his hands in yours. He's hunched over; his eyes are scrunched tight, his face looking a little green.

"Breathe, baby. It's gonna be okay. Just breathe."

He squeezes your hands until you begin losing feeling in your fingers, but you don't let go. You couldn't, even if you wanted to. Eventually, his breathing slows and he releases his death grip on your hands.

"My dad's out."

You've been dating Eddie Munson for more than six months, and he's barely mentioned his father. You never asked about his parents; you figured if he wanted you to know, he'd tell you. And he did, occasionally. You'd gathered that neither of them were the nurturing type. You knew they were alcoholics. You knew Eddie's mother died when he was 7, and that he came to live with Wayne when he was 8. Everything else was something of a mystery that you figured he'd reveal in time, when he was ready.

Eddie takes a shuddering breath and begins: "He was supposed to be doing 15 years. It's only been 12. He showed up at the trailer a little while ago. Wayne says he wants to see me." Tears fall when he shakes his head. "I can't."

"Baby, you don't have to," you tell him softly. He closes his eyes. "Eddie, you don't have to see him if you don't want to. You're a grown-up. He can't make you do anything." He covers his face with his hands, and you move upward to wrap your arms around him again.

"I don't want to go home," he whimpers.

"So stay with me."

"Yeah, I bet your mom would love that," he says sarcastically, pulling back and swiping at his eyes.

"She literally went to court to fight my dad when we said we didn't want to see him anymore. She'll understand."

"I don't know how long it'll be 'til he fucks off."

"That's okay."

"What if she says no?"

"She won't," you say confidently.

You don't know what his father did to him, or why he was locked up, or why Eddie is so scared, but you know one thing: if that old man comes near the boy you love, it'll be the last thing he ever does.

You move your books to the floor and lie down on the bed together. Eddie buries his face in your chest and lets you hold him tight. You lie there in silence, gently playing with his hair, until you hear your mom come home from work.

"Be right back," you whisper with a kiss to the top of his head.

When you return to your room, Eddie is curled into a ball on his side, hugging your pillow. He looks up at you with fearful, red-rimmed eyes. You ease back onto the bed, lying down to face him, and reach out to tuck his shaggy hair behind his ear.

"Mom talked to Wayne," you tell him quietly. "He thinks staying here for a few days is a good idea, too. Said he'd bring you some stuff on his way to work. Is that okay? Will you stay?"

"Do you really want me?" he asks, his voice barely a whisper.

"Of course I do," you smile. You gaze into his big brown eyes and feel your heart swell. "I'd keep you with me all the time if I could." You kiss his the tip of his nose. "Oh, and Mom says she's making lasagna for dinner, in honor of getting our very own Garfield."

He snorts.

Eddie follows you into the kitchen when it's time for dinner like he usually does. He stays to eat with you several times a week anyway, so nothing feels at all out of the ordinary.

Until he nearly jumps out of his skin when someone knocks at the door. You place a hand on his leg under the table when your mom goes to answer it.

You both let out a quiet sigh of relief when you see Wayne step inside. He follows your mom into the kitchen, carrying a brown grocery bag and Eddie's Sweetheart.

"Can you spare a few minutes for dinner, Wayne?" your mom asks.

"No, ma'am, just came to drop off some stuff for the boy on my way to work."

Eddie gets up to take his things from his uncle.

"Talk to you outside for a minute?" Wayne asks.

"Yeah." Eddie sets his bag and other lover aside and follows Wayne outside. You stare at the door nervously while your mom packs a meal in Tupperware for Wayne to take with him.

When they return, Eddie looks shy, like a kid who's been coached on how to thank relatives for a gift he didn't really want. He takes his seat, and Wayne hovers in the doorway.

"Thank you again for takin' him in, ma'am. He gives you any trouble, you give me a call."

You smirk. Eddie blushes furiously and refuses to look in your direction.

Your mom laughs warmly. "Please. Eddie's never any trouble. We're always happy to have him." She hands the Tupperware container to Wayne. "Take this."

"Ma'am, I--"

"Take it." You're pleased to see that the Don't Argue With Me Voice works on grown-ups too.

"Thank you, ma'am."

Now Eddie's the one smirking, and Wayne's the one blushing.

"Alright," Wayne rubs the back of his neck awkwardly, "I gotta get goin'. Thank you again, ma'am. Call if you need anything. And you?" Eddie looks up to see his uncle pointing at him. "Be good."

Eddie nods, and Wayne leaves with his Tupperware meal.

The rest of dinner passes uneventfully, and afterwards, you and Eddie pick up the Wayne-delivered goods and return to your room to pretend to finish your homework.

"Where can I…?" Eddie spins around in the middle of your room, looking for a safe place to stash Sweetheart.

"Anywhere you want," you smile, placing his bag of clothes in your desk chair and dropping onto the bed. "Mi casa es… Sweetheart's casa?"

He settles her in a corner, then comes to join you on the edge of the bed. He lets out a sigh that it seems like he's been holding for hours. You wrap an arm around his back and rest your chin on his shoulder.

"You okay?"

"Yeah." He leans against you. "Wayne thinks he'll fuck off in a few days. Most of his old buddies are either dead or locked up. He's staying at the shitty motel by the laundromat. Wayne says he'll probably go back to my grandma's when he runs out of money."

"You have a grandma?" you ask.

Eddie waits a beat.

"That's what you got out of that?"

"You've never mentioned her."

He shrugs, making your head bob with his shoulder. "Didn't like my mom. Didn't like me. Don't know much about her."

"What's Wayne think about him being back?"

"Same thing I do. Wish he'd get hit by a fuckin' truck."

You're rubbing your hand up and down his back when a voice calls from the hall.

"I'm watching Dawn of the Dead, if you losers wanna quit sucking face long enough to enjoy some real entertainment."

You lift your head from Eddie's shoulder. "Wanna?"

"Does it mean I don't have to finish my history homework?" he asks hopefully.

"I was gonna skim the chapter and summarize for you anyway."

"Fuck yeah," he grins.

You head to the living room, get comfortable on the couch, and lose yourselves in zombieland for the next two hours. Not what you would've picked for a soothing distraction from a horrifying reality, but it seems to work for Eddie.

He seems calmer as you get ready for bed. You stand together at the bathroom sink to brush your teeth, letting the toothpaste dribble out of your mouths and growling like zombies at each other in the mirror.

This is, of course, when your mother walks by to say goodnight: When you've both got toothpaste dripping off your chins.

"I don't even want to know," she shakes her head, trying and failing to conceal her smile. "Everything's locked up, I'm going to bed." She doesn't usually announce that everything's locked up, but you appreciate her trying to pass it off as normal for Eddie's benefit.

"G'night," you both gurgle through your foam-filled mouths. She lightly smacks her own forehead with her palm and walks away laughing. You lean forward to spit and grin at each other in the mirror.

Once the lights are off and you're in bed, Eddie practically crawls on top of you. You hold him tight and stroke his hair, finding that one spot on his scalp that's been known to knock him out. It works. You hope his dreams are much happier than his reality as you begin to drift off to the sound of his steady breathing.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, shit, fuck."

You open your eyes to a strange chant and suddenly remember that Eddie is supposed to be with you. You can't feel him. You roll out of bed and turn on the lamp. He's kneeling on the mattress, hair a mess.

"Turn around," he orders. "Don't look."

"Eddie, what's going on?"

"Turn around!"

You're in such a panic, you can't just turn your back on him. Your eyes drift from his frantic eyes to the wet spot he's trying to shield with his body. When your eyes meet his again, he crumbles.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm so fucking sorry," he cries.

"Babe, it's okay," you begin.

"I'm so fucking sorry, just let me get my shit and I'll go," he continues.

"Eddie, would you stop?"

"I wish I was fucking dead, I'm so fuc--"

"Eddie! Stop!" Your sharp tone scares him enough to make him stop rambling.

You step toward a corner of the bed and pull the sheet back to reveal what's underneath.

"Look. Mattress pad. Easy fix. By morning, we can pretend it never happened."

He looks from the white corner of the fabric to you, and then back again. His mouth opens and closes several times.

You lean against your dresser and speak softly, resisting the urge to close the distance and embarrass him further. "You're aware that I hemorrhage for a significant amount of time every month, right?"

He nods.

"Sometimes I bleed through. My last mattress looked like such a murder scene, Mom was afraid to transport it across state lines. It's not a big deal. I go through this all the time."

He sniffs.

"Why don't you go hop in the shower? Just put your clothes in the hamper, and I'll throw a load of laundry in."

He starts to protest.

"Nobody'll suspect a thing," you cut him off before he can even begin. "I go through this at least once a month. It's practically expected of me. Nobody'll know."

He looks downward, and you let him consider his options.

"Can you turn around?" he asks quietly.

"Yep."

You turn your back and hear him rustling through his paper bag, and then hear the door open and close. You strip the sheets - only the bottom sheet had any traces of his shame - and ball them up.

You weren't lying; this does happen occasionally. Perhaps not as often as you implied, but enough that nobody would raise an eyebrow at the washing machine going at 3 am. You clean the spot on the mattress pad, change the sheets, re-make the bed, and grab clean pajamas. You'll throw your current ones in with the load, to support your 'It Was Me' story, should anyone question it. (They won't, but it would probably make Eddie feel better.)

"Did any get on you?" He'd crept back into your room so quietly, you hadn't even noticed him. He's eyeing the fresh stack of pajamas you've placed on top of the dresser.

"Nope," you smile, turning around. "Figured we could do with a complete re-set. I'll be right back."

You grab the sheets in one hand and your pajamas in the other, and head to the bathroom to collect Eddie's clothes.

Four minutes later, you return to your room. Eddie is sitting on the floor, leaning against your dresser, his knees to his chest. You sit next to him, but not close enough to touch him. Not yet.

"Please don't beat yourself up over this," you beg. "It's not a big deal."

"Fucking embarrassing."

"Eddie?"

"Yeah?"

"I love you."

He doesn't respond. You stretch your legs out in front of you, cross your ankles, and get comfortable.

"You know I'm gonna marry you one of these days, right?"

Still nothing.

"What do you reckon our life expectancy is? I figure we've got what, maybe 50 years ahead of us? That's a lot of time."

You place your hand on the floor between you, palm up, to see if he'll take it. He doesn't.

"I'm gonna love you forever," you inform him. "Sickness, health, weird haircuts, awful tattoos, all that jazz. I will love you if you suddenly develop a fondness for Madonna or disco dancing. I'll even love you if you become that guy who brings an acoustic guitar to parties and expects everyone to sit around and listen to him. Actually, maybe not with that one. Please don't be that guy." You pause, hoping for a laugh. When it doesn't come, you clear your throat and continue. "Point is, there's almost nothing that could make me stop loving you. This, right here? Doesn't change a thing. I fucking love you. Get used to it."

He lets it sink in, and then he sighs. Finally, he reaches for your hand. Your fingers lace together. You look over at him, and he slowly meets your eye.

"I fucking love you too."

"You better, Munson," you wink.

He smiles a tiny smile.

"Ready to go back to bed?"

He hesitates and asks, "Can I go out and smoke first?"

"Baby, you're a refugee, not a prisoner. You don't have to ask permission to leave."

"Right," he groans, hauling himself off the floor. He holds out his hands to help you up, and you take them.

"Do you want company, or do you need a minute?" you ask once you're standing.

He shrugs, looking at the floor.

"Because that's okay," you smile, reaching up to brush his hair out of his face.

"What's okay?"

"Needing a minute," you explain. "I just announced my intention to lock you down forever. We're probably gonna occasionally need a minute to ourselves."

"You can come with me," he whispers, kissing your forehead.

You follow him to the back door, put on your jackets and shove your feet into your shoes, and step out into the darkness. You sit next to each other on the porch steps, resting your head on his shoulder and huddling together for warmth as Eddie smokes in silence. It's pretty peaceful out tonight. The black sky is cloudless and dotted with stars. The air feels clean and crisp. Eddie's body provides just enough heat that you're not too bothered by the cold.

He seems calmer after he smokes his cigarette down to the butt, but he uses the tip to light another. It's going to be a long night. You press your fingers between your thighs, starting to feel the chill set in.

"You know the Speedway just this side of the county line?"

A run-down gas station with a cracked parking lot and a flickering neon sign comes to mind. Yeah. You know of it, but you've never been in. Gareth had suggested dropping in for snacks once when you passed by, but Eddie had said everything in there was overpriced and kept driving. You hadn't thought anything of it at the time; you and Eddie are 7-Eleven people, after all.

"Yeah," you whisper.

Eddie pauses so long, you wonder if he's reconsidering telling you whatever he was about to reveal.

"We were on a beer run," he says eventually. "Dad was already hammered. Ran over our mailbox and took out the neighbor's trash can on the way out. Swerved all over the road. I used to think it was fun, riding like that, but looking back I'm surprised nobody died." Eddie stops to take a long drag. "I stuck a pack of Sno-Balls under my shirt while Dad was paying for his beer. You know, those pink coconut cakes?" He glances at you for confirmation, and you nod. "The thought of those things makes me sick now. But when you're that hungry, they look fuckin' amazing. Anyway, the cashier spotted me and said something. Dad's face… I mean, it was already red from the drinking. But it looked like his head was going to explode. Eyes poppin' out of his head, vein throbbing in his neck. He grabbed me by the hair and just started whalin' on me, right there in the middle of the store. I heard people yelling, but I… I kinda just scrunched my eyes shut and waited for it to be over, like I always did. And then when I opened them again, Hop had the old man pinned to the floor."

Eddie sniffles and drags his sleeve across his face.

"I know you've never seen my dad, but he's not a big guy. Hopper could've fucking demolished him. But Hop had a busted lip. Blood just dripping out of his mouth and onto the old man. Sometimes I wonder… if maybe Hop let him get a swing in just 'cause he knew that's what it would take to finally put him away. And it did. He got 15 years for assaulting a cop."

A tear streaks down your cheek, and a smile tugs at your lips.

"Took three guys to haul Dad off. Still kicking and screaming. At me, at Hop, I dunno. But Hopper's the one who took me to Wayne's. Bought me a hot dog to eat on the way, and I think it might've been the best fucking thing I've ever eaten. Even with the sore jaw the old man gave me for getting caught. He always said to never trust a cop, but Hop… he's saved my ass more than once. I guess…" Eddie stubs out cigarette #2 and chuckles. "I guess if you have to leave me for somebody, Hop's a decent choice."

You knock your knee against his, lifting your head off his shoulder to look at him. His eyes are shiny and tear-filled in the moonlight. Is it a crime to think he's beautiful like this?

"What can I say?" you grin. "I've got great taste in men."

Eddie snorts, shakes his head, and stands. He offers you his hands, and you take them and let him help you off the steps. When you stand, he pulls you in for a hug.

"Thanks," he mumbles into your hair. "For tonight. For everything."

You feel like something needs to be said, but you can't find the right words. Instead, you hold him tight and kiss the side of his neck. He melts into you. You stand there, stuck together on your back porch, until a shiver rips through your body.

"Jeez, make us stand outside in the cold all night and get sick, why don't ya," Eddie grumbles, pulling away and putting his hands on your shoulders. He turns you around and pushes you toward the door. "Get inside where it's warm, you crazy woman. You've gotta take care of me for the next 50 years, you don't get to check out early."

You laugh quietly and let him push you inside. You silently shed your jackets and shoes and return to your bedroom, snuggling into your clean sheets and holding onto each other for warmth.

Four days later, Wayne stopped by to tell Eddie that his old man was back in jail where he belonged. Unable to resist the sight of the bar across the street from the shitty motel he was staying in, he'd wandered over, drank too much, and picked a fight with the guy on the stool next to him...

Who happened to be an off-duty Indiana State Trooper, visiting Hawkins to have a drink with an old friend named Jim Hopper.

[dollfacefantasy]

How’d you think frank would react to reader in subspace! You’re literally one of the only people writing for frank and your writing is so so brilliant!🙂‍↕️

frank castle x fem!reader cw: mdni (18+), smut at the beginning but after that it's just fluff, brief daddy kink a/n: thank you so much angel <33 i gotta keep my fellow frank freaks fed 😤

frank knows you're dropping from the broken whine you let out and the way your hands become grabby, pulling at his shoulders to try and get him as close as physically possible. you always get that way when you start to sink.

he has you on your back beneath his muscular frame, your knees hooked over his shoulders while his cock batters your pussy. his pelvis slams against your center over and over in rough thrusts. he's just pounding you in search of his release.

you'd already cum twice. once on his tongue and once on his cock. the static of overstimulation chipped away at your sensibilities and made you vulnerable. it left you needing him. depending on him.

"just one more for me, baby. c'mon. i know you got it in you," he grunts as his eyes flutter.

"mmm... frankie," you whine. your glossy eyes search to connect with him amidst the haze of lust surrounding you. you babble out the next word while blinking slowly. "daddy..."

he groans at the slurred quality of it. "i'm right here, sweetheart. just gotta cum for me. squeeze me nice and tight."

in this state of mind, defiance isn't an option. you feel your belly starting to flutter along with your legs beginning to flex. the orgasmic spool inside you unravels as though his words work as a direct physical command.

you cry out and arch your back. your arms loop around his neck to cling to him like you're at risk of losing him. your teeth dig into your bottom lip as more choked, pitiful sounds explode out of you. he can feel tears leak from your eyes against his shoulder. you're so close to his ear that he can hear the soft sniffles.

"that's my baby. that's my girl. my good fuckin' girl. so fuckin' good for me, fuck," he grumbles against your skin, his own words trailing off and becoming incoherent.

he presses down on you harder to the point that you're completely squished against the mattress under his weight. his cock is so deep inside you that it'd probably hurt if you were more lucid.

most of the time, he was more gentle with you. everywhere but the bedroom, he treated you as though you were a tiny doll made of glass. when he was close like this though, on the brink draining his balls inside you, being careful felt like something only possible in dreams.

he crashes over the edge hard, growling against your neck and clutching the sheets. his breath comes out in ragged pants as pure euphoria washes through him. you let out tiny squeaks below him, but they're not of much concern right now.

it's after the blissful fog settles that he tends to you.

he rolls off of you once he's almost all the way down. his back hits the bed, and cool air flows between both of your bodies. you lie there for a few moments as if you're dead. if not for the quick rise and fall of your chest, that's what someone may think. your eyes stare at the ceiling, blank and unthinking. tears trail down your temples.

after a few seconds, you start to turn onto your side. you curl up, pupils still cloudy and face void of any specific emotion. in these brief eclipses after sex and before totally settling down, your mind gets stuck in a weird limbo. all you can think about is him. you want him holding you, touching you, taking care of you. but you can't ask for it. can't verbalize the desire for any of that. in the beginning stages of your relationship, he thought you were trying to forget he was beside you.

but now he knows better.

he places a hand on the divot in your waist and pulls you back to him, not letting you draw in on yourself. his nose brushes behind your ear while his lips plant soft kisses on your throat.

"no hiding from me, babydoll. you did so good," he whispers. his hand caress your warm skin, trying to reel you back to him.

you still don't have any words, but your muscles relax for him in an instant. he can feel it under his fingers.

"that's right. i got you, daddy's got you," he mumbles, "let's get you cleaned up."

he rises to his feet on his side of your bed and drags your limp body across it so he can hoist you up into his arms. in your more playful moments, he might throw you over his shoulder, tease you about how he used to have to carry guys like this when he was in the marines. but you're not giggling or squirming right now, so he doesn't.

he scoops you up like a bride and walks over to the bathroom in your apartment. that's when you start coming back a little. you nuzzle at his chest, your warm breath fanning across his muscle.

"there she is," he mumbles.

inside the bathroom, he sits you on the countertop. you lean back against the mirror while he goes to turn on the shower. the surface is cool on your skin. your eyes flutter shut as you relax a bit more.

only seconds later, he's back in front of you. he stands between your thighs and cups your face in one large hand. as quickly as they shut, your eyes pop back open to look at him.

"how're you feeling, pretty girl?" he asks, voice quiet and rough.

you nod in response as if it's a yes or no question. pushing off the mirror, you drape your arms around his shoulders again and press your face to his skin.

"'m ok," you sigh, "just a little sleepy."

"yeah, you are," he says with the hint of a smile gracing his features, "you can knock out as soon as we're done, ok? just let me take care of you."

again, you nod. you never had any objections to handing control over to frank. he lifts you from the counter again and walks into the shower with you.

the hot water streams down onto your bodies below. it trickles from his skin to yours, relaxing both of your muscles. you shut your eyes and keep your head on his shoulder. his fingers twirl in small patterns on your back as he sets you down. the tile is cold on the soles of your feet. you still have to lean against him for balance.

vaguely, you feel his hands running over your body. they’re slippery, slicked up with your sweet-smelling body wash. you swear you hear his deep voice humming, vibrating in his chest beneath your ear, but it could be your imagination.

in total, it feels like the shower is only seconds long. you know you’ve been in there for longer, you felt him run through your whole routine. but time melts away in your mind when you're in this state.

as soon as you’ve acclimated to the smooth surface underfoot, he’s guiding you off of it and onto the cushioned mat outside the shower. you stand there, managing a few lazy blinks.

he laughs softly at that. “few more minutes, sleepy girl.”

with an old towel from the rack, he dries you off. he’s quick but thorough, getting every last little bead of water off of you without being tedious about it.

he scoops you back up after that. your arms and legs latch around him, holding on as he carries you to the bedroom and plops you down on the bed.

“time for sleep?” you yawn, stretching your limbs a bit.

"nice try but you gotta put on some clothes, baby. don't want you catching a cold," he says before heading over to the dresser and grabbing a top for you along with some panties.

"that's not how it works, y'know," you correct while lazily watching him return to you. he tosses the scraps of fabric next to your body on the mattress.

"oh you're a doctor now, huh?" he mutters before tapping your ankle, "put your legs up."

you do as he says without complaint, lifting your legs high into the air so he can pull your panties over them.

"i'm just saying, i wouldn't get sick from sleeping naked," you yawn.

shaking his head, he grabs one of your outstretched arms to pull you up right. despite regaining your ability to speak, you still looked at him with that same dreamy smile you got when you were blissed out.

he tugs the sweatshirt over your head. it was one of his, one of the newer, softer ones you'd bought for him. he'd owned it just long enough and worn it the right amount of times needed for it to smell like him.

"there you go," he says softly and pulls you to his chest for a few seconds. he just feels you in his arms for a moment, pressed against him, safe and sound. as much as you loved being babied, part of the reason he took care of you was for himself too.

he kisses your forehead and then lets you lie down.

"you get comfy, babydoll. i'm gonna put some clothes on, and then i'll be right back," he says before departing to tend to himself for a few minutes.

when he does come back, he's surprised you haven't passed out already. instead, you're tucked under the blankets and curled up to a pillow, waiting for him. you reach out with another grabby hand to signal your desire for him.

"i'm coming," he mutters as he rolls onto the mattress beside you and loops his muscular arm behind your head.

you nuzzle right up to his chest, draping your own limbs over his body. he feels your lips lay a small kiss on his chest.

"get some sleep, baby. don't want you to be all cranky in the morning," he murmurs and shifts a little to engulf you with his frame.

"you're the one who gets cranky..." you reply. but you follow along anyways and shut your eyes. his body heat combined with your soft bedding has you drifting off in no time.

[greenandsorrow]

Morning Wood.

rut!Alastor x gn!reader

☞ I had some leftover smut scenes from the first chapter of "The price for misbehaving" and so, I decided to combine them with a slightly different depiction of Alastor. He's all fuzzy, basically covered in deer fur -anthropomorphic animal vibes and not the cartoonish, bright red guy we all know!

☞ You don't need to have read the actual multi chap in order to enjoy and understand this. However, I did keep the rutting/mating season theme. I love it when fictional men act pathetic -and the fact that I'm the one determining that in my silly, not so little, fics.

☞ Lots of horniness and hormones. Pet names. Masturbation and a blowjob, but make it goofy and playful! The reader is full of sass. Alastor is eepy and needy. Pre-established relationship. You're his mate!

🪻

Alastor is a mess.

A mess of sharp edges.

And antlers.

Antlers that bear little nicks along their edges.

His wiry frame is covered in patches of scruffy fur that cling to his body in a disarray. It's a chaotic blend of rough textures and soft tufts. His chest and arms are a map of scars, faint reminders of a past that seems to be trying to hide beneath some of the fluffiest tufts.

His tail is twitching with restless energy.

Somewhere on the upper floors of the hotel, his bedroom is dimly lit, the only source of illumination coming from the radio dial of a fancy antique. Alastor is sitting perched on the edge of his bed, legs spread wide and claws digging into the mattress beneath him. His chest rises and falls in shallow, uneven breaths.

The air is heavy with the dizzying scent of his rut.

He lets out a low growl, his usual composure cracked by the haze of primal need that's clouding his mind. His cock is already in his hand, long, throbbing and impossibly hard, with veins pulsing. The fur at its base is damp with sweat and precum. His heavy balls are drawn tight against his body.

Alastor squeezes the base of his cock and the sound that escapes him comes out unbidden, raw and guttural. He can feel it... The unbearable heat coursing through him, a wild and instinctual drive he can't suppress.

He pumps his shaft, slowly and deliberately at first, as he tries to maintain an ounce of control. But his rut isn't something he can just ignore... And soon his pace quickens, his hips bucking into his hand.

"F~ fffuck~" he hisses through gritted teeth, his free hand gripping his thigh -in an attempt to not tear the poor bedding. His thoughts are filled with glimpses of you... The way you tease him with that infuriating smirk, the way your hands feel on his chest, your breath ghosting over his neck.

It only makes things worse.

His cock twitches violently in his hand, precum running down the length in sticky lines. His clawed hand grazes the sensitive skin of his cock head just enough to sting, but the pain only spurs him on more.

"Why now?" he growls, his voice gravelly.

His tail thrashes behind him.

Alastor is imagining you beneath him, your hands exploring every inch of his furred body while your voice whispers filthy encouragements in his ear.

The thought alone sends him over the edge. With a strangled cry, his body tenses, his hips jerking forward as his release spills on his hand in thick, hot ropes. His vision blurs for a moment, the intensity of his orgasm leaving him trembling.

The room is now silent, save for the sound of his ragged breathing. Alastor slumps forward, claw still sticky and cock softening slowly. He grimaces, dragging a hand down his flushed face before letting out a defeated sigh.

"Disgraceful" he mutters to himself -though the shame is only fleeting. The rut isn't done with him yet and he knows it's only a matter of time before the unbearable ache returns.

Had you found him like that... What would have happened?

For now, though, he allows himself a moment of tranquility.

You said it'll only be four days... He can go four days without you, right? Pfft. Sure, he can. That was literally day two.

The morning light filters through opac curtains and the hotel fills with the familiar sounds of its guests going about their day.

Alastor stirs on the couch, his lanky frame sprawled across the cushions, tail twitching lazily. He lets out a small groan, rubbing at his chest absentmindedly.

The Radio Demon is practically draped across the couch like he invented the concept of fatigue. His shirt is half-tucked, the fabric wrinkled like he's been sleeping in it for days. His legs dangle off the arm of the sofa, one hoof idly moving to some rhythm only he can hear. His hair sticks out in every direction, defying both gravity and logic.

That's when he feels it.

"Oh, dear" he mutters, blinking, as he shifts his hips and feels the unyielding pressure against the front of his slacks. His cock, half-hard when he fell asleep, is now achingly stiff...

Alastor gives an exasperated sigh, though it is also tinged with some embarrassment. He shifts his long legs awkwardly, but the motion only heightens the friction, earning an involuntary hiss from him.

"Of all the things to wake up to" he says under his breath, voice carrying its usual cadence despite the situation.

One hand is already slithering near his waist before he thinks better of it... But he decides to resist.

It's no use.

His cock throbs, demanding attention, the weight of his balls adding to the torture. Alastor whines softly, while his tail is moving erratically against the cushions of the couch.

That's the sight you walk in on -Alastor spread on the couch, red-faced and visibly aroused, brows furrowed in sleepy distress. You lean against the doorway, taking a moment to soak in the ridiculousness of it all.

"Well, good morning to you too, sunshine." you begin, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I see you've got a… pressing issue in your hands."

Alastor's head snaps up, his wide eyes widening even more. He had forgotten it was today you were coming back.

"Wha-?!", he struggles to sit up.

You toss a pillow at him. He doesn't dodge -it smacks him in the chest and he groans theatrically, clutching it like it has wounded him mortally.

"Careful!" he pouts, half-lidded eyes gazing at you under messy bangs. "I'm already frightfully weak. Don't make it worse."

You rollyour eyes. "You're always weak when you want something, Al. So spit it out. What do you need?"

Alastor stretches, the movement languid and a bit too purposeful as his shirt rides up, exposing his lean, scarred stomach and the dip of his hip bones.

"Well", he drawls in a tone full of fake innocence, "since you're offering…"

He really is weak.... He hates but simultaneously loves how lust dictates his decisions.

His ears flatten against his head, hands moving to shield himself, though it does little to mask the twitching outline beneath the thin fabric of his slacks.

"Relax." you say, stepping closer with an amused smirk. "It's nothing I haven't seen before. Though, I'll admit… you look particularly needy this morning."

"I- I wasn't expecting company s- so soon again..." he stammers, his usual smoothness nowhere to be found as his tail continues to flick nervously behind him.

You raise a brow, letting your gaze drift deliberately downward.

"Clearly. But hey, I'm here now, so why don't I help you… ease into your morning?"

It's obscene, the way his cock is straining against the fabric like it is fighting to break free. The outline is clear -a fat dick, slightly curved and frankly, too big for him to be this embarrassed about it. His trousers don't stand a chance... The poor button at the top looks like it's holding on for dear life.

"Wow" you observe, crossing your arms. "When you called to say you were 'resting', I didn't realize you meant that. I guess you really were up all night."

His lips part in protest, but the words get caught in his throat when you kneel between his legs, smiling up at him.

"Don't act so shocked... You always do that." you tease, dragging your palms up his hairy thighs. "Y'know Alastor, you look like you could use a hand -or a mouth."

"Y- You are positively scandalous" he manages out, though his voice wavers -probably from the excruciating anticipation for your touch.

"Yeah, yeah" you quip, tugging at the waistband of his slacks. "Now shut up and let me work."

He can't help but make a strangled, static-laced whine at your order.

The moment his cock springs free, it hits his stomach with a thud, the thick shaft flushed and throbbing with need. A soft, furry, happy trail goes down till the base -where his balls rest against the couch, each movement causing them to shift enticingly.

You let out a low whistle, leaning in close. "Well, aren't you a pretty buck."

"This whole ordeal is utterly flawed!"

"Oh, I wouldn't use that word. It's more like an opportunity."

Alastor's right ear twitches at that, his breath ragged. "A- An opportunity for what, exactly?"

Grinning wickedly, you answer. "To see just how needy the great Alastor can get."

Alastor freezes... like a deer caught in headlights, the eternal grin faltering. He shifts his limbs, trying to compose himself, but there's no hiding it -there he is, the Radio Demon, infamous and terrifying… now looking like prey that has wandered into a very compromising situation.

And oh, is it compromising.

Your newly acquainted mate's cheeks flush a deeper crimson, his grin stretching unnaturally wide in a desperate attempt to assert himself. "Ah, well, you see- It's not- !"

"Save it. You're not fooling anyone, stag boy. Look at you... All scruffy and needy... Rocking an erection on your favourite vintage couch."

He swallows hard, his Adam's apple bobbing. "I- I assure you, it's entirely… involuntary!"

"Yeah?" you quirk an eyebrow, letting your hand trail up his chest and then back down his stomach, relishing in the feel of his muscles clenching underneath your fingertips.

"Sh- shocking behavior! I- I don't know what you're-"

"Alastor" you cut him off sharply. "Stop talking."

He did.

The trembling demon's shaft isn't just stiff -it's... raging, twitching as if annoyed that it's not already getting attention. And oh, the head. Flushed an angry red, it's bulbous, slick with an impossible amount of precum that's dripping lazily down the sides. It is cartoonishly swollen to say the least.

"Good lord. How can you always wake up like this?"

Alastor squirms, his grin trembling. "I- I am a creature of many talents, my dear!"

His hand grips the armrest of the couch so tightly that the fabric starts to fray.

"Right" you mutter, your fingers finally wrapping around him. The moment you touch him, he lets out a static-filled gasp and the hotel's lights all flicker, his whole body jerking as though he hasn't been touched in centuries. It's been four days.

His cock is hot to the touch. The contrast between the smooth head and the slightly fuzzy base is oddly satisfying under your palm. You give him a little squeeze. He twitches violently in response, tail flicking and ears flattening again.

"Eager, huh?" you tease, stroking slowly. Alastor's sharp teeth clench, his head falling back against the couch as he lets out a broken groan.

"N- nothing like that! I- I'm always prepared!" he babbles, his voice breaking into static again.

"Sure, sure."

That earns you a petulant glare.

The smell of him -something earthy and musky- fills your senses. You let your tongue dart out, licking a stripe along the underside of his cock, slowly, tasting the salty precum that has been pooling at the tip.

Alastor lets out a sound that can only be described as pathetic, his sharp claws scratching the couch (aka the real victim) in a vain attempt to ground himself.

"Prepared?" you mock, your breath falling on his slick glans. "You're shaking like a leaf,u freckled sweetie. I'd say you're anything but prepared."

Alastor whimpers, an uncharacteristic noise for someone so smug. His deer tail is lashing furiously now, the coarse fur of his thighs brushing against you as he shifts in place.

You wrap your lips around him in one swift motion, taking him just far enough to feel the weight of him on your tongue. The ridges along his shaft catch against the wet heat of your mouth as you slide down his length. His claws dig into the couch, again.

He almost chokes... His grown antlers momentarily catch on the backrest. His chest is heaving.

Meanwhile, your lips remain around his hot cock. You hum, the vibration making him jerk so hard he nearly bucks into your mouth. He spills even more precum, coating your tongue.

Pulling back just enough to tease, you let your lips part with a wet pop, his shiny length gleaming.

His ears are still pinned back, his teeth biting into his lip as he struggles -and fails- to suppress a shuddering moan.

You don't wait for him to recover. Instead, you lower your mouth back onto him, taking him even deeper this time. His cock twitches and twitches, the veins pulsing against your tongue as you hollow your cheeks and suck hard.

"Ah- !", static again.

You pause to look up at him, his sweaty and flushed face making you feel oddly proud. Alastor's response to your simple gaze is a little pat on your head. He appreciates what you do, even if it brings him equal amounts of relief and torture.

An incoherent and strangled series of moans leave his open mouth as you work him over with a mix of slow strokes and hard sucks. His legs tense, the fur along his thighs bristling as he teeters on the edge.

"P- Please" he begs, his voice cracking in a way that makes heat pool in your stomach. His usual bravado has vanished completely, leaving him dazed, needy... and utterly at your mercy.

You hum again, the sound sending a shockwave through his body. His cock pulses hard in your mouth and you can feel him getting closer with every ragged breath and broken moan.

You shift your position on the rug slightly, your hand slipping lower to cup his balls. They are heavy and warm in your palm, fuzzy with coarse fur -like the rest of him. You give them a teasing squeeze. Alastor practically yelps, his thighs snapping shut for a moment before falling open again, leaving him vulnerable and exposed to you.

"Sensitive, aren't we?" you comment, rolling them gently between your fingers. His cock twitches violently in response, a bead of precum spilling onto your lips as you kiss the base of his shaft.

Alastor's hands claw at the couch helplessly, his sharp nails ripping the fabric. (🛋️RIP)

"I- I can't take this anymore!", his voice breaks into a high-pitched whine. His antlers clatter against the backrest, as his head tips back, neck taut and exposed.

"Oh, but you can, deer boy" you murmur, your voice sultry. "And you will."

As if spurred by your words, his hips jerk forward, his instincts betraying him. The movement is sudden, sharp and almost frantic, his cock sliding further into your mouth as he begins to rut against your face. His balls slap against your chin with each desperate thrust, their weight a reminder of just how pent-up he truly is when he's in musth.

"G- Goodness gracious, I- ah- oh my~!"

His fur bristles everywhere now -all over his back, his arms and chest- and his ears are spasming.

Static crackles in the air.

You tighten your grip on his base, your free hand moving to steady his hips.

"Easy there, mister buck" you say, pulling back just enough to catch your breath. "Getting ahead of yourself, don't you think?"

"F- forgive me... I really c- can't help it!" he stammers, eyes glazed over with a mix of embarrassment and raw, animalistic need. "You're- you're too good! And frankly, I missed you!"

You chuckle.

Then, you lick a stripe from the base of his cock to the very tip, savoring the way he shudders. "Oh, I know", you say smugly. "Now, be a good little deer and stay still, or I might stop altogether."

The threat makes him whine again, the sound almost pitiful -but he forces himself to stay still. His thighs tremble, the tension in his body visible.

Satisfied with his obedience, you take him back into your mouth, your tongue swirling around his tip before sliding down to the base. His hips twitch despite himself, his cock pulsing hard as you swallow him down.

His breathing grows extremely ragged.

"I- I'm... ah! I'm so close" he chokes out. His balls have drawn up tight against your palm, a telltale sign of his impending orgasm -making you moan around him.

Simply, that's enough.

With a desperate cry, Alastor comes undone, his cock throbbing violently as he spills into your waiting mouth. You swallow it, the salty heat flooding your senses as he slumps against the couch, his body trembling with aftershocks.

When you finally pull back, he is even more of a mess than you found him -his hair disheveled and wet, his chest heaving rapidly and his face flushed with a mix of exertion and satisfaction. You lick your lips, your eyes gleaming with mischief as you look up at him.

"Feeling better, bucko?" you ask, your tone smug but with an undertone of affection.

Alastor's ears rise on top of his head and he gives you a sheepish, toothy smile. "I… suppose you could say that", he admits, still breathless.

You laugh, the sound light.

You stand up and give his lips a peck."Good. You look cute like this... completely wrecked and at my mercy."

"The couch looks worse."

Thank you for reading!🪻

Support me further: ☞ PayPal link

~ My Hazbin Hotel masterlist ~

This work is part of the nymph's daily gifts! 💌

The dividers are by @saradika-graphics.

Tags; @stygianoir @aperfectidiot @lady-valtieri @what-0-life @clowncollegealum @whatinthepluto @dragonqueenfk @ajajajabdjsjx @ellie-x0xo @1rxsemary1 @ermmmwhattheflipguys @kimkimmm2411 @sukaretto-n @crowleysthings @ratskinsuit @mariaclarade-la-cruz1 @ilikemyteawithmilk @dontevenknowwhyimhere @dennsfz @sirens-and-moonflowers @diffidentphantom @midorichoco @speedycoffeedelight @cinnamon-galaxies @kammsinn @chibistar45 @alastorthirsty @victias @mezzo-piano230 @shayshaymonyou @atlaloversblog @iheartalastor @mydickisjuicy @pinestwinssimp

[ubeb0nes]

HCs for Sevika w/ an oral fixation

Ooo baby this one is sin

༇ ༇ ༇

This one is based off a hc by @justhereforsubsevika !!! Thank you for the sevi brainrot food my friend 😫

cw: smut. (mostly) bottom!sevika (TEEHEE)

༇ ༇ ༇

Those are some of the prettiest, most captivating lips south of Noxus. They were meant to always be wrapped around something; or, parted and filled until she gagged.

She is an absolute munch. She'd live between your legs if you'd allow it. Morning wood? No, morning munchies.

You wake up every morning, without fail, to Sevika peppering your skin with kisses. You can tell sleep is still clinging to her mind like it is yours, because her kisses fade in and out with minute pauses when she nearly falls back asleep for a moment.

And yet, she's still kissing down your body, lingering to lavish your lower stomach with special attention before she rises back to kiss under your ear.

"Can I have it, baby?" She'll ask in a morning voice that could have Janna herself laying back and spreading.

Her fingers are busying themselves teasing the hem of your underwear, and are deftly ripping away the damnable boundary once you emphatically say yes.

She'll always give you those begging eyes while she goes down on you, as if pleading with you for even more of your essence down her throat. She can never have enough of you. Her mind melts away when you're between her lips, all she can comprehend is you, your taste, and how you fall apart in her mouth.

Eating you out is by far her favorite past-time, she would say it's a hobby of hers even, but it's more than even that; it's literally a passion of hers. Sevika daydreams about your pussy, eyes glazing over mid-workday as she traces out your clit in her mind.

MUNCH

Once you two are together, she can't even masturbate without something resembling your pussy with her. In her mouth, specifically.

You get Sevika the custom-made fleshlight as an anniversary gift, handing it to her with a giggle (mostly bc you'd wrapped it in a way where it was very obvious what it was).

"Please make sure I catch you using it," you murmur in her ear with a groan, palming her cunt through her pants to drive home your point. And if bby can do one thing, it's follow orders!

On the night that Sevika first uses it, she gets home a little earlier than you do from work. There's rarely a night where she doesn't need to blow off some steam from dealing with the repercussions of Silco's blunders, or the general headassery of the Chem-barons.

You're not home yet, and she's particularly impatient. She takes the fleshlight out from the nightstand (with a strange sense of bashfulness lol), running her fingers gently over the replica of your pussy lips. She bites her lip, imagining your breathy moans at her light touches.

She lays down on her stomach on the bed, pillow tucked under her hips and propping her pretty ass even further up in the air. She holds the fleshlight with her mechanical hand in front of her face like she's laid between your legs, while the other pumps one of your longer dildos slowly in and out of her pussy…

Sevika doesn't know how she ever touched herself without it beforehand. Stars are shooting around behind her eyes as she traces her tongue over the perfectly-replicated folds of your pussy. There's something so painfully lewd- borderline humiliating- about what she's doing that makes her even more wet.

She loves it, she loves it so much and she's pumping the dildo even faster, her hips bucking as she sucks on "your" clit, eyes rolling back as she swears she can taste you. She can practically hear you cooing her ear, calling her a good girl while your hand strokes over her ass-

Oh, but you are cooing in her ear. And your hand's drifted down to the cock between her legs, taking control and slowing the pace down until she was whimpering. Big, strong Sevika, whimpering.

"Shhh, baby, it's okay, I'm here. Keep eating that little toy of yours out, keep being good."

The little moan of submission she gives shoots straight up your spine, and it takes all of your willpower not to fuck her silly with the dildo. You keep pumping it slowly, bottoming out with each stroke just to hear that restrained whimper in the back of her throat.

Sevika looked so good when you stepped into the bedroom, hips rutting against your pillow as she fucked into herself, face buried in your pussy. She was consumed by you, and it drove you absolutely insane.

You appreciate getting to see from a different angle how she looks when she eats you out. It's so clear that she's eating you out for her own pleasure (the fuckin' brat) rather than your own, as she practically makes out with the fleshlight.

Against all rationale, you're almost jealous. Then you remember, you're in charge.

"Enough of that. Lay on your back." And then, you're climbing up to sit on her pretty face (not without giving her a proper hello kiss first, ofc), leaning over her with a broken moan to continue fucking her with the dildo.

You'd think she hadn't had a proper meal in days with how loudly she moans into your pussy. Her hands clamp down on your hips, pulling you down to smother her face. And suddenly… you're not nearly as in charge as her tongue is.

"B-baby… please, wait, it's so much, oh!" You're whimpering as you rest your forehead on her stomach, your wrist lazily pumping the dildo in and out of her. It's funny how quickly that wicked tongue can break your more dominant spirit.

She won't stop suckling on your clit, muttering "so good, so sweet" in that fucked-out tone of hers that lets you know Sevika's gone. All that's in her place are her whims, all of which have to do with having you in her mouth.

She's pulling your third orgasm of the night out of you, which at that point your throat is raw from screaming and begging for more. You rapidly tap on her thigh, squeaking out a high-pitched string of "please"'s that cause her to release you with a pop.

That puppy-eyed look is back as you two readjust, with you laying back on the bed and her bracketed between your legs. "Was that good?" She asks, her mind still hazy, and sinking back into her subspace as you massaged her scalp.

"So good, Sevi," you praised. She smirked pridefully, dipping down between your legs to give your pussy a kiss. She laughs softly when your hips buck, and you push her face back with a whine.

"The real thing's still better," she says, reaching up to grasp one of your hands as her languid, loving kisses branched out.

[allwaswell16]

A One Direction fic rec of soulmate fics that are hidden gems as requested in this ask. If you enjoy the fics, please leave kudos and comments for the writers! You can find my other recs here. Happy reading!

- Louis / Harry -

💕 De amore ex tempore by @persephoneflouwers

(M, 101k, historical) the Time Travel AU where alternate versions of themselves live simultaneously in different realities and their paths collide every time, until somehow, they converge into one.

💕 I'm Praying (that you don't burn out or fade away) by @lululawrence

(NR, 75k, soul stars) Harry and Louis are literal stars who have known they were soulmates from their creation eons ago, however when Louis came to Earth to start the next phase of their fated future, he forgot everything. Even Harry.

💕 You, Who Never Arrived by abrighteryellow / @a-brighter-yellow

(T, 42k, 90s au) Louis Tomlinson is days away from marrying a perfectly nice podiatrist when he gets a phone call that changes everything. Or, the Only You AU in which Louis has a soulmate and it's definitely not Harry Styles.

💕 i got a heart (but i don't got a soul) by tempolarriefics / @tempolarriefix

(NR, 19k, famous/not famous) the one where louis sells his soul before meeting his soulmate, harry is a popstar with a heart of gold, niall is inadvertently responsible for harry's boners, liam is a meddling angel, and zayn is a demon who made a mistake

💕 The Journal by 4ureyesonly28 / @evilovesyou , RecycledStardust

(G, 13k, magic) When Harry finds himself purchasing an antique journal in the ancient bookshop of a town he's never heard of, he doesn't exactly want to admit that he has no idea how he got there.

💕 Swimming Against the Tide by @neondiamond

(G, 9k, enemies to lovers) Louis and Harry are rival competitive swimmers who kinda hate each other. Turns out they’re also soulmates.

💕 You Can See It with the Lights Out by @larryatendoftheday

(M, 8k, canon) In a universe where you know as soon as you meet your soulmate, Harry's been shaking hands his whole career, waiting for the one.

💕 Crimson Clover by babyhoneyhslt / @babyhoneyheslt

(T, 5k, historical) Harry and Louis are soulmates, but one is already promised to another. When their plan to flee is discovered and they are separated, Harry falls gravely ill.

💕 Oh, what a world, and then there is you by LaDiDah

(T, 5k, historical) Harry and Louis have met many times before, in many different universes. Soulmates always find each other.

💕 Can't Imagine You Without The Same Smile In Your Eyes by galactic_larry / @galacticlarry

(T, 4k, uni) It’s been over a week since Harry’s first semester at university began, and he has had zero new exciting friendships or noteworthy experiences, just a bizarre dream that keeps waking him up in the middle of the night.

💕 Louis and the no good, very bad day by @haztobegood

(E, 4k, soulmate goose) Louis collapses back into the bed with a groan. Just when he thought his day couldn’t get any worse, there’s a fucking goose stuck on his balcony.

💕 Falling by @reminiscingintherain

(T, 4k, soulmarks) Based off the prompt:  you’re my soulmate and I know we’d have a happy ever after but you’re my best friends ex and if I dated you they’d never speak to me again and I don’t know what to do

💕 That’s the way love goes by bella28 

(T, 4k, soulmate goose) In a world, where soulmate geese are sent to the people who can't figure out who their soulmate is, Harry finds himself stuck with a goose when he is attending a concert of his favourite artist Louis Tomlinson.

💕 Bitter Soulmates Series by theweightofmywords / @lil0

(T, 4k, angst) They had never met, but he didn’t think there was anyone in the world he missed more.

💕 So Paris When We Kiss by cherrylarry / @beelou

(G, 4k, exes) There’s a travel website open that he certainly did not open himself. Niall has been trying to get him to Paris ever since he got his mark. There’s not any particular reason why he hasn’t gone, it just never felt like the right time. 

💕 What’s in a Name by @hellolovers13

(T, 2k, friends to lovers) Louis had always known Harry was his soulmate. The name on his arm disagreed.

💕 emotions won’t grow by localopa / @voulezloux

(G, 1k, angst with a happy ending) so, you’re the unfortunate soul stuck with me

- Rare Pairs -

💕 neither wanting more, neither asking why (series) by @justanothershadeofblue

(E, 40k, ot5) For Louis Tomlinson, there's nothing that compares with getting his soulmark and meeting his soulmate. Nothing that he could imagine that ever could.

💕 I Saw Several Angels in the Self Help Section by LadyLondonderry / @londonfoginacup

(G, 3k, ot5) Zayn and Louis are soulmates. They're also missing some soulmates. For extra flavour, it's Christmas.

[wren-kitchens]

i will still come around when the time for sleep is through

3000 words

curious as ever, jimmy swims slowly to the surface, careful to avoid being spotted before he can figure out why in the name of void smajor is at the codlands in the middle of the night. is- could he be looking for jimmy? well, obviously he’s here for some reason, and jimmy highly doubts that it's to do a midnight trade deal, but- could the king of rivendell really be looking for him? oddly enough, smajor appears to have dressed hastily; clothes far less formal than jimmy has ever seen them, a shawl draped haphazardly around his shoulders in what seems to have been an afterthought. his gloves, jimmy notes, are the only orderly thing about him.

this has been finished for like a week now but I keep forgetting to post it lol

flower husbands for the soul 👍

a catfish flicks a clump of seagrass into jimmy's face, and he lazily opens an eye as he floats across the bottom of the swamp. the fish has the self awareness to look sheepish as it swims away, and jimmy closes his eyes again. he knows smajor (and several other rulers, but he doesn't care as much about their opinions) would think him even lesser than they already consider him to be if they knew he very literally sleeps with the fish, but he can't find it in himself to care all that much. after all, beds—in jimmy's opinion—are just for setting a respawn point; they’re far too uncomfortable to actually sleep in.

people make such a fuss about beds; all gilded canopies and satin spreads to show off wealth and luxury, when all one really needs is a soft bank of sand and silt. even lizzie has a bed, although she has since told jimmy that it was only for show, admitting that the ocean floor is so much more comfortable, but a grand bed makes an impression. jimmy doesn’t have the resources to waste on a bed he'd never use, and he can’t be bothered to find any, so he never has. which has now led to him getting smacked in the face with seagrass for the second time in five minutes.

"do you mind?" jimmy huffs, opening his eyes again to see the same catfish floating next to him. "i’m trying to- what?"

the catfish flicks the seagrass in his mouth and swims off, and as jimmy spits it out, he notices a foreign shape at the surface of the water. in fact- no, not foreign at all; if those colours are what jimmy think they are, then that's-

curious as ever, jimmy swims slowly to the surface, careful to avoid being spotted before he can figure out why in the name of void smajor is at the codlands in the middle of the night. is- could he be looking for jimmy? well, obviously he’s here for some reason, and jimmy highly doubts that it's to do a midnight trade deal, but- could the king of rivendell really be looking for him? oddly enough, smajor appears to have dressed hastily; clothes far less formal than jimmy has ever seen them, a shawl draped haphazardly around his shoulders in what seems to have been an afterthought. his gloves, jimmy notes, are the only orderly thing about him.

jimmy pops his head above the water. "smajor? you're- what are you doing here?"

smajor turns so fast, jimmy wouldn't be surprised if he strained a muscle in the process. "codfather?" voice almost frantic, he moves over to the water in a very un-smajor-like way. his eyes land on jimmy, and something in his shoulders seems to relax.

"you- are you okay?" jimmy frowns, swimming over to the shore, a little concerned. smajor has a very holier-than-thou attitude when it comes to the swamp, so to see him here with no apparent reason is odd to say the least. not that he’s complaining about seeing him here, just- it's odd.

"i’m- I am perfectly fine." smajor says, entirely unconvincingly. something in jimmy's chest aches as he notices that smajor's hands are shaking. "i'd- I have to ask if you yourself are alright, codfather, seeing as you appear to be sleeping in a river." smajor says, clearly aiming for his usual cold indifference and falling short. it feels- almost inappropriate to witness smajor like this, but at the same time, jimmy wants to help—more than he expected to. 

so jimmy gives what he hopes sounds like an offended scoff and folds his arms, tail keeping him afloat. he sinks a little lower in the water, and hopes that smajor is too distracted by whatever it is he’s dealing with right now to have noticed. "I have tried almost every bed in the world, and none of them have been remotely comfortable."

something shifts in smajor's expression, and he looks almost disappointed, which jimmy does not understand in the slightest. "I cannot imagine the seafloor being more comfortable."

"then you'd be surprised." jimmy says, unfolding his arms and swimming closer to where smajor stands on his dock. "I can’t imagine you ever tried it, anyway." with some effort, he hoists himself up onto the platform, tail vanishing as he does so. 

"no, I have not." smajor says, oddly quiet.

jimmy leans against one of the pillars, facing smajor, who now sits in an oddly formal way, shaking hands clasped in his lap. "you should. at some point anyway- you’re basically immortal, right?"

"I- yes." smajor's face remains unreadable. "not many ways to kill me."

"there you go." jimmy waves a hand in a vague gesture. "what's the point of immortality if you don't try new stuff?"

smajor looks up, and his eyes look- almost clearer as he raises an eyebrow. "but you won't try beds?" there's some of that amused judgement in his voice, and jimmy almost grins.

"I tried them, I just didn’t like them." he corrects. "honestly, they’re just so- constricting. I don’t know why anyone sleeps in them voluntarily; it's like being suffocated."

smajor gives a little scoff, almost inaudible. "i’ve heard that's your opinion on formal clothes too. is that why I don't see you in my meetings anymore?"

jimmy blinks, a little taken aback. that is why he doesn’t like formal clothes, but the only people he complained to about that were lizzie and joel—and they definitely are not friendly enough with smajor to have mentioned it. "I- no, I just- they were frustrating."

"oh?" smajor frowns, and something about the way he does makes jimmy feel like he didn’t do it intentionally. 

"joey, mainly." jimmy admits, and smajor scoffs again.

"hardly surprising." smajor says, a slight softness around his eyes. "i’ve never met a man so capable of being so irritating."

jimmy grins. "is that 'cause he keeps trying to flirt with your brother?"

smajor groans, and jimmy laughs as he pinches the bridge of his nose in exasperation. "no, it's because my brother is being insufferable about joey flirting with them."

"they- its reciprocal?" jimmy gapes. smajor looks up, takes one look at jimmy's expression and covers his mouth, a smile in his eyes. jimmy finds himself warming to it despite himself. if smajor is happier, it's worth a little teasing. "don’t laugh at me- how in the name of void would I know?" 

"I think, codfather, having a pair of functional eyes would suffice." smajor says, something like amusement lacing his tone. his hands have stopped shaking. 

jimmy gives an exasperated huff, glancing back at the water. "the amount of times i've been told that- it's just getting ridiculous now."

"well, if you keep missing things, it's to be expected." jimmy turns to smajor to find his expression reserved once again—something moving behind his eyes.

jimmy looks at him for a moment. "why are you here, smajor?"

apparently unconsciously, smajor tugs at the cuffs of his gloves. "do you.. have you-" he clears his throat, nervous. "what do oceanfolk think about past lives?"

jimmy blinks. "I don't- we don't really have that kind of thing? y’know- we live for thousands of years, me and lizzie are immortal, it's- i’ve never really thought about it."

"I- right. yes- of course, that was- that was a foolish question." smajor says, beginning to stand up as if to leave. something jolts in jimmy's chest. "I should-"

"hey- no, wait." without really thinking, jimmy grabs his hand. smajor practically freezes, seemingly shocked by jimmy's sudden reaction. "what do you mean?"

smajor hesitates before sitting down again, rubbing a gloved thumb against the back of jimmy's hand unconsciously. jimmy finds himself suppressing a smile at it. "in rivendell, past lives are- it's believed that we all have one. sometimes we have dreams of- y’know. who we used to be."

jimmy tilts his head in interest. "how do you know they’re about a past life and not just like- regular dreams?"

"there's a kind of.. familiarity to them." smajor says, voice soft. "almost nostalgic, honesty. it's often as if i’m looking through an old diary i’d forgotten about."

"oh." jimmy feels a little winded. "how do- are they always.. good?"

something shifts in smajor's expression, unreadable. although- something about it suggests that it isn't entirely meant to be unreadable. "no. I- many of the ones i’ve had are.." he glances at jimmy's eyes, something sad flickering across his face for a fraction of a second. "they’re- they aren't always good."

"I think- I think i’ve. had those." jimmy says haltingly, and smajor watches him intently. "but- they've all had people I know? it doesn't- statistically speaking, that's unlikely, right? like- my past life interacted with their past lives?"

"i’d have to argue that it's fate." smajor says, and there's something almost melancholy about the way he says it.

"nothing i’m seeing seems to have anything to do with fate." jimmy huffs. "joel had a dog named geraldine and he was trying to sell everyone dead bushes."

much to jimmy's surprise, smajor sits upright, eyes fixed on his own. "you- do you not see anything else?"

a little startled, jimmy shakes his head. "I don't- i always thought they were just weird dreams, I didn't really pay attention to them much."

there it is again—that upset flickering across smajor's face, vanishing before jimmy can decipher what it means. "that's such a you thing to do." smajor says instead, scoffing a little. oddly enough, it doesn’t sound mocking, rather.. disappointed.

"it- how would I know?" jimmy says suddenly, realising that he does not want to see smajor looking that sadly at him any longer. "th- if i’d seen anything else, I mean."

"I- I would assume you remember." smajor says, apparently taken aback. "if you don't- you said, oceanfolk don’t have past lives?"

"no, I just- how do-" come on words, don’t fail him now. "I assumed they were- your brain can’t create new faces, even when asleep, right? so I just- I assumed that's what it was."

"you- so you may remember something else?" smajor says, a spark of what jimmy can only call hope in his eye.

jimmy shrugs, a little helpless. "I don’t know. I never- I mean, I just thought they were dreams, y’know?" he pulls his knees to his chest, resting his chin on them. it's not exactly the most well-mannered thing he's ever done, but this little meeting is far from formal, so he doesn’t care. "it- I always felt. I don’t know, like there was something missing?"

smajor looks torn between two conflicting feelings—neither of which jimmy can even begin to parse. "missing? how so?"

"just- i’d wake up, and i’d remember bits and pieces in such vivid detail, but.. there always felt like i’d forgotten huge chunks." jimmy says, finding it a little difficult to bring himself to look anywhere other than smajor's face. "I remember small stuff like- like there were no dark oak trees, or the weird monopoly on an enchanting table, or that the place I lived had someone else there- but I can't even remember who?"

smajor blinks back something that looks almost like grief, and jimmy can’t imagine what he could have said to elicit such a response. "I see." his voice is weirdly cold, and jimmy wants to take back whatever it was that made it happen. "the missing chunks.. do you have any idea what they could be?"

jimmy shakes his head, more apologetic than perhaps he should be. "it's just nothing. I don't- is there some reason that is, with your past lives?"

hesitating only for a moment, smajor nods. "it- it typically happens when you recall something or someone.. incredibly important to you." he glances away, and jimmy almost wants to take his hand again in order to keep him from running off. "generally speaking, it takes something related to whatever the memories are to trigger their return."

"is there a way I can do that?" jimmy asks, and he can't quite understand why smajor looks so upset.

"I don’t know." smajor says, shortly. "i’m- my apologies, but I must leave. I made- I shouldn't have come." he starts to stand again, and jimmy stares at him. "i’m sorry I disrupted your sleep, codfather."

"you- do you have to go?" jimmy says, pushing himself to his feet. "I- did I say something?"

smajor gives a ghost of a smile, something so deeply sad shadowing his eyes. "nothing you said. i’m- it's merely late." 

he turns to leave, spreading his wings, and jimmy reaches out on instinct to stop him- barely managing to catch smajor's wrist as he does-

there are butterflies in jimmy's stomach as scott tucks the poppy into his own hair, talking so casually about how they are husbands now- apparently completely oblivious to just how flustered jimmy has become at the concept. he takes jimmy's hand, staying close as they venture further into the cave, and all the while jimmy can think of nothing else but the man beside him. void- the idea of scott as jimmy's husband? gosh. 

scott smiles in that stupidly fond way, and jimmy could just die right here as scott strokes his hand carefully through his hair. in the quiet of the night, with only their soft voices and the crackling of the fire to break the gentle silence, it could truly just be the two of them in the whole world.

the worry in scott's eyes as jimmy desperately tries to assure him (and maybe himself too) makes his heart ache. neither of them want to say it, but both of them are thinking the exact same thing: if jimmy does die one final time, where does he go? and more importantly- will they ever see each other again?

jimmy's last moments are spent staring at scott—watching the dawning horror reflect on his husband's face and realising simultaneously that their worst fears have come to pass. and yet, even as jimmy's vision fades to black, he can’t help but notice just how gorgeous scott's eyes look in the light of the sun peeking through the windows.

gasping for breath he didn't know he'd lost, jimmy struggles to sit upright against the dock—head pounding as if he had fallen backwards. smajor- scott- he is in front of him, eyes wide and panicked as he grasps jimmy's hand, cradling the back of his head.

"aeor- codfather, are you alright?" scott says, and- oh void, it's really him- and he knew-

jimmy pushes himself up, sitting properly as he catches his breath. scott (is that even his name anymore?) watches with apparent fear in some attempt to prevent it from happening again. 

"you- you remembered it all," jimmy breathes, and scott's eyes widen with understanding and something so deep, jimmy isn't sure there's a word for it. "didn't you? you knew who I was- all this time."

scott nods, tears beginning to shine in his eyes. "I- I knew. I am sorry I didn’t tell you, I wasn't sure-"

scott doesn’t have time to finish, because jimmy has pulled him into a hug that feels so incredibly long awaited—especially as scott sinks so readily into his arms. "i’m so sorry." jimmy says into scott's hair. "you waited so long- i’m sorry I took all this time."

"I don’t care." scott whispers, and the softness of his voice is reminiscent of every quiet evening in their cottage, falling asleep in each other's arms in front of the fire and almost forgetting where they were. "you're worth every second. oh, jimmy." 

"I love you." jimmy buries his face in scott's shoulder, pressing a kiss to his neck as he does so. "I- I can’t believe I- oh void. I love you so much- i’m so sorry."

scott is laughing, and he sounds like he might be crying too, and that alone brings tears to jimmy's eyes. "it's okay- you’re here. i’m never letting you go again."

it takes a long moment for either of them to regain enough composure to pull away, to wipe away the tears and do anything other than hold each other close. when they do, scott is smiling and still crying and he’s the most beautiful thing jimmy has ever seen. 

jimmy reaches up to cup his face, and he sinks into him within a second. "you’re so different- you’re so fancy. where's the cottagecore builder I knew?" he gives a teasing smile, blinking back tears. 

"I don't- I don't think i’m the one who changed the most." scott rests his hand against jimmy's, laughing wetly as jimmy scoffs in joking indignation. "love, you’re a fish."

jimmy can’t help but laugh. "am- am I a handsome fish at least?"

there's a fondness in scott's eyes, so great that jimmy thinks he could probably die right here. "the most handsome. oh, darling." he whispers, tears springing from his eyes again. "i’d almost given up. I thought- you must have been someone else."

"i’m so sorry." jimmy says again, voice breaking. "you know- if- if it's any consolation. I think I was falling for you again."

scott laughs, wiping his tears away. "you’re such a sap." he smiles. "you always have been."

"I loved you since the day we met in that cave." jimmy presses his forehead against scott's. "you- I always assumed you knew, but- you meant the world to me. you mean the world to me. you’re my home." he gives a little grin, tearing up again.

scott makes a noise that sounds like a broken gasp. "you- you want me to say it, don’t you?"

"a little." jimmy rubs a thumb across scott's cheek, and he laughs.

"it's home?" scott smiles, and jimmy's mind reels. void, how he’s missed him- without even knowing.

jimmy presses a soft kiss to scott's lips. "home." 

[notiddygothgf]

18. Stained Sheets

★ pairings: aki hayakawa x fem reader

★ ❝ What would you do if things were different?❞

★ c.w.: LITERALLY pure lovemaking, fluff, talks of the future, a certain position that is the sum of 34 and 35. totally unrevised.

★ a/n: HI MY MUNCHKINS!! as promised, here is the second chapter. I promise, you'll love it (I wrung my brain dry writing this, i love aki sm). Not gonna say too much, but more at the end of the chapter!!!! Keep those comments coming and I'll keep the content coming (lord knows I'll have plenty of time to write it on vacay. typing this on a beach rn btw, its 90 degrees here and 20 degrees back at home).

★ w.c: .7.5k

shameless ; chapter index

YOU AND AKI flopped onto the cushiony surface of his mattress, the analog clock on his nightstand glowing softly in the dim room: 12:58 AM. The faint hum of the city drifted through the cracked window, accompanied by the occasional whoosh of a passing car. The air in his room was cool and faintly smelled of his cologne, something sharp and clean, mixed with the faintest hint of cigarettes. 

Side by side, you both lay there, staring up at the ceiling. Your limbs were stretched out like a starfish, while Aki had one arm draped lazily over his stomach, the other tucked under his head. You huffed out a laugh, breaking the silence, your voice low to match the quiet of the room.

"This week as been... a lot," you muttered, rubbing your hands over your face before letting them flop back onto the bed. 

Aki groaned softly in agreement. "Yeah. Feels good to be back in a real bed." 

"Did you pick up those meds the doctor prescribed?" You turned your head to glance at him, raising a brow. 

He hesitated, his lips pressing into a thin line. "Does nicotine count?" 

You groaned dramatically, propping yourself up on one elbow. "You're gonna be so cranky tomorrow when your back hurts, grandpa." 

"I'm not cranky," he argued, side-eyeing you with a faint smirk. 

"Right, you're a fuckin' ray of sunshine," you teased, poking his arm. "The poster child for positivity." 

He chuckled, low and soft, the sound warming the small space between you. "That's rich." 

You gasped, feigning offense. "What do you mean?" 

Aki turned his head fully toward you, his dark hair falling slightly into his face. "You're pissy as hell, like, half of the time." 

"Oh, right, because you're so congenial," you shot back, narrowing your eyes at him. "You love my attitude." 

"I do," he said easily, his smirk softening into something almost fond. 

You couldn't help but grin back at him, the playful banter easing the exhaustion that had settled into your bones. There was something about these moments with Aki—small, quiet, and unhurried—that felt like a balm, soothing the edges of a hectic day. 

The silence stretched for a beat, comfortable and heavy with the kind of familiarity that didn't need filling. You stared at the ceiling again, your thoughts wandering. "Hey," you said after a while, your voice quieter now. "Do you ever think about stuff like... I don't know, what would you be doing if things were different?" 

Aki shifted slightly beside you, the mattress dipping under his weight. "Different... how?" 

"Like... no Devils. No Public Safety. Just... normal life stuff." 

He was quiet for a moment, his gaze fixed on some indeterminate point on the ceiling. "I guess I don't let myself think about it much," he admitted. "It feels... pointless, you know?" 

"Yeah," you murmured, though your chest tightened a little at his words. "But still. If you could imagine it, what do you think you'd be doing?" 

Aki let out a soft breath, almost a sigh. "Maybe something boring. A desk job, maybe. Nine to five, go home, cook dinner, watch TV. Something simple." 

"You? At a desk job?" you said with a laugh. "I can't see it. You'd lose your mind." 

He chuckled again, shaking his head. "Probably." 

"What about something cooler, like... I don't know, quitting Public Safety and owning a little coffee shop? You could wear one of those cute aprons and everything." 

Aki turned his head to look at you, his brow arching in mild amusement. "A coffee shop?" 

"Yeah. You'd totally pull it off. You've got the broody, mysterious vibe down already. Plus, imagine all the tips you'd get from customers swooning over you." 

His cheeks tinted the faintest pink, and he scoffed, looking away. "You're ridiculous." 

"I'm being objective, here," you teased, poking his side again. 

He caught your hand this time, his fingers curling gently around your wrist. The sudden contact made your breath hitch for just a second, but you masked it with a grin. "Okay, your turn," he said, his tone shifting as he tried to regain control of the conversation. 

"My turn?" 

"Yeah. What would you do if things were different?" 

You considered for a moment, chewing on your lip. "I'd travel, I think. See the world, eat all the food, meet all kinds of people. Just... live, you know?" 

"Sounds nice," he said softly, his thumb unconsciously brushing against your wrist before he let go. 

The room fell into another comfortable silence, but this time, the air felt heavier, charged with something you couldn't quite name. You turned your head again, catching the way Aki's eyes lingered on you before quickly darting away. 

"What?" you asked, tilting your head. 

"Nothing," he said too quickly, his voice tight. 

You narrowed your eyes suspiciously. "It's not nothing. Spill." 

He hesitated, his jaw tightening as if debating whether to speak. Finally, he sighed, turning fully onto his side to face you. "I was just thinking..." 

"Thinking what?" you prompted, your heart skipping a beat at the seriousness in his tone. 

"You look good in my clothes," He looked at you for a moment, his dark eyes searching yours, and then, almost shyly, a small smirk tugged at his lips. "I could get used to the sight of you like this."

The statement caught you off guard, your eyes widening slightly before you barked out a laugh. "What?" 

"I'm serious," he said, the smirk growing. "I could." 

You squinted at him, trying to gauge whether he was teasing or not. "Are you trying to make me do your laundry? Because that's not happening." 

He shook his head, his gaze flickering down to your lips and back up again. "No. I just think it'd suit you. Can't imagine that a woman who can barely cook for herself would be a good homemaker, anyway." 

There was something in the way he said it—low, deliberate—that made your cheeks heat. "Oh, yeah?" you said, trying to play it cool. "What's the appeal? Oversized shirt, messy hair, looking like I just rolled out of bed?" 

He leaned in slightly, his voice dropping just enough to make your heart race. "Exactly." 

The air between you seemed to shift, the teasing suddenly laced with something more. You raised a brow, determined not to let him fluster you. "You've got a real thing for this, huh?" 

"Maybe," he admitted, his smirk softening into something warmer. "Or maybe you'd look better without them – my clothes." 

Your breath caught, your brain short-circuiting for half a second. "Aki," you gasped, smacking his shoulder. 

He laughed, the sound rich and genuine, and you couldn't help but join him. It was absurd, but the way he was looking at you—like you were the only person in the world—made your heart feel too big for your chest. 

The laughter faded, leaving behind a soft, lingering silence. Aki reached out hesitantly, his fingers brushing against your cheek before settling there. His thumb traced a faint line along your skin, and before you knew it, he was leaning in. 

The kiss was slow at first, tentative, like he was testing the waters. But then you melted into it, your hands tangling in his hair as the world seemed to shrink down to just the two of you. 

The laughter faded slowly, leaving behind a quiet that felt heavier, charged with something unspoken. Aki's hand lingered near your face, his fingers brushing your cheek with a gentleness that sent shivers down your spine. His dark eyes searched yours, flicking down to your lips for just a moment before meeting your gaze again. It was hesitant, almost as if he was waiting for permission, or perhaps the courage, to take the leap.

When he leaned in, it was slow—agonizingly slow. You could feel the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin, and your own breath hitched, caught in your throat. Your heart raced in your chest, pounding so loudly that you were certain he could hear it. Then, finally, his lips met yours.

It started soft, barely there, like he was testing the waters. His lips were warm and a little chapped, and he kissed you with a careful kind of tenderness, as if you might break if he pressed too hard. The world seemed to tilt on its axis, narrowing until the only thing that existed was Aki—his hand on your cheek, the subtle press of his lips against yours, the faint scent of his cologne wrapping around you.

As the kiss deepened, the hesitance melted away. Aki's hand slid from your cheek to the back of your neck, his fingers threading into your hair, pulling you closer. His other hand came to rest lightly on your waist, his touch grounding and electrifying all at once. You felt yourself leaning into him, your hands finding their way to his shoulders, then tangling in his hair. It was soft and slightly messy between your fingers, and you found yourself smiling into the kiss, overwhelmed by the realization of how much you'd wanted this.

Aki tilted his head slightly, deepening the kiss further, and a quiet, almost inaudible sound escaped him—a soft sigh that sent warmth coursing through your entire body. His lips moved against yours with a newfound confidence, slow but deliberate, like he was savoring every moment. The kiss wasn't hurried or desperate; it was something else entirely. It was an exploration, a quiet confession, a promise.

You broke away for the briefest moment, gasping for air, but Aki didn't let you go far. His forehead rested against yours, his breath heavy and uneven, mingling with your own in the small space between you. His thumb brushed along your jawline, a gesture so gentle it made your chest ache (and your stomach feel warm).

You opened your eyes, meeting his. His cheeks were flushed, his lips slightly swollen, and his usually guarded expression was wide open, unfiltered. He looked at you like you were the only thing in the world that mattered, and it made your heart stutter.

Then, without saying a word, he kissed you again, softer this time, almost reverent. It was slower, more deliberate, like he was trying to commit the feel of you to memory. Your hands slid down to his chest, resting there as you kissed him back, matching his rhythm. Each touch, each movement felt like a silent conversation, one that didn't need words.

When you finally broke the kiss, you were both breathless, your faces still impossibly close. A laugh bubbled up from your chest, light and giddy, and Aki's lips quirked into a small smile.

"Wait," you murmured, your voice breathy but tinged with excitement.

Aki blinked, his brows furrowing slightly as he tried to steady his breathing. "What?" he asked, his voice soft, like he was reluctant to break the moment.

You grinned, already sitting up. "I have an idea."

Aki groaned, though there was a hint of amusement in his tone. "Why do I feel like this is going to end with me regretting it?" 

You shot him a mischievous look over your shoulder as you headed for his closet. "Oh, ye of little faith. Trust me."

Aki's closet was so... him. It was a sea of neatly-pressed sweaters, tees, and shirts – black, white, grey, navy blue, for the most part, with only a few exceptions. You reached for the tie he had hung up there only a few hours earlier, wrapping it around your knuckle.

"What are you doing in there?" He inquired.

With a grin, you hid the wound-up tie behind your back, sauntering back out into the master bedroom. 

He looked at you how a mother looked at her child's mud pie – with his brows knitted and the faintest hint of a smirk on his face. Slowly, he asked, "What's that?"

You stepped towards the bed, crawling towards him until you were straddling his narrow waist. He peered up at you through those confused blue eyes of his, but humored you nevertheless. Rather than glorifying him with an answer, you leaned down, pressing a kiss to his lips. Then another. By the third, he was reaching for you, and you were prying his hands off of you to pin them to the pillow atop his head.

His eyes widened, glinting with mischief, "Where are you going with this?"

"So many questions," You shushed him. Taking the balled up tie into your hand, you wound it around the headboard of Aki's bed, bringing it back down to wrap around his wrists before finishing it off with a knot. Aki, shockingly enough, allowed you without a word of protest.

He looked pretty all of the time – just to be clear – but you couldn't help but think that he looked prettiest when he was underneath you, hair splayed out over the pillow, face dusted with a pretty shade of pink, eyes half lidded as he awaited your next move.

You leaned down, capturing his lips in another kiss, this one slower, deeper, lingering just long enough to leave him chasing after you when you pulled back. His breath hitched, and his chest rose beneath you as he tilted his head up, silently asking for more.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you ?" you teased, brushing your thumb over the delicate curve of his cheek.

"Maybe," he murmured, the corner of his lips twitching into a smirk. His voice was soft, tinged with a slight tremor that betrayed the calm he was trying to project.

You rocked your hips against him, slow and deliberate, eliciting a soft whine from his lips. The sound sent a shiver through you, and you couldn't resist the urge to do it again, drawing out another gasp as his body tensed beneath you.

"A little excited, are we?" you murmured, lips brushing against his ear.

His cheeks flushed deeper, but he didn't look away. Instead, his half-lidded eyes locked onto yours, brimming with a mix of embarrassment and undeniable want. He was harder than a boulder beneath your hips already, and you hadn't done much. He tugged lightly against the tie securing his wrists, testing the knot, but you pressed your palms to his chest, holding him still. 

"I didn't say you could move," you whispered, and he let out a shaky exhale, sinking back into the pillows.

When you leaned down to kiss him again, he met you halfway, lips parting eagerly against yours. His breath came faster now, and his head tilted to follow your movement, as if desperate to close every fraction of distance. The soft, needy sounds he made as you rocked against him grew louder, sending a heat rushing through you.

"Patience, Aki," you murmured against his lips, though your resolve was starting to waver. His body beneath yours was intoxicating, the way he moved, the way he looked at you like you were the only thing he needed in the world.

"I don't think I have much of that left," he admitted, his voice breaking on a quiet moan as you shifted your weight just right.

You decided to test that theory, dragging your hips back and forth and back again until the two of you were panting like horny teens. 

"I want you," He breathed, "I need you."

"Where do you need me?" You asked. Licking his neck, you teased, "Here?" A little lower, near his collarbone, "Here?" Another kiss to his stomach as you continued crawling down, "Here?" And one more just atop the tent in his pants, "...Here?"

He arched up, tented fabric brushing against your cheek so deliciously. "Please, I can't– I..." He sighed, chest rising and falling rapidly. 

You pressed another kiss to his clothed cock, which jumped up playfully, tapping your lips like it had a mind of its own. Peering up at him through faux-innocent eyes, you purred, "What? Use your words."

He swallowed, "If you keep teasing me like that," He choked out a laugh while you mouthed at his dick through his pants. "I'm gonna...cream my pants like a fuckin' middle schooler."

"Would that be so bad?" You teased. (And, truthfully, you would be lying if you said you didn't want to see that just a little bit – the picture of his body arching up, eyes rolling back as he came prematurely with a cry of your name).

"Please," He groaned, and you knew exactly what he wanted.

"How about... right here?" You gripped the waistband of his pants, wiggling them down to his thighs. He was sporting a pair of navy blue boxers today – the cotton kind, fabric strained around his erection, stained darker at the tip by the tiniest little wet mark. Bracing your weight on your hands, you leaned down, placing a long, tender kiss to the spot.

Cute, you thought. 

You wrapped your lips around the head of it, mouthing hungrily at him through the fabric. He opened his legs a little wider to accommodate you. 

"Yes," He panted.

He wants more. You didn't want to keep him waiting. So, teasing your thumb beneath the waistband of his boxers and snapping the elastic against his navel once, you tugged his boxers down, finally freeing him from its confinement. 

And there he was. Long and thick and flushed a pretty shade of pink at the tip, just as you had remembered. You wrapped a tentative hand around it, flitting your tongue over the head to collect the pretty little bead of precum that had bubbled up at the top. Once you were satisfied with that, with the salty taste of him, you gave it another lick.

"Don't be a tease," He warned you, though he was smiling the whole time.

Fine, then. You didn't bother pulling his pants the rest of the way down, or even acknowledging his comment. No, the moment the waistband was out of the way, you were swallowing him whole.

Aki exhaled sharply, nearly doubling over at the sensation of your warm mouth closing in around him. He felt the muscles in his abdomen tense with the strain of it – it felt like he could cum like this, with your lips stretched around him, and you didn't really think you (or him) would mind testing that theory.

His skin was hot. He burned for you – the same way you burned for him.

You pulled up. Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks. Then you throated him again, right up until your nose brushed his navel. You felt him throb in your mouth.

"Fuck, 's good," He whimpered weakly, tugging at his makeshift restraints while you picked up the pace.

Up and down, up and down, fitting him all the way in until the head of his cock bumped the back of your throat. Until you were gagging on him, eyes watering from the stretch. Until your eyelids were fluttering shut.

He moaned for you – deep and velvety and, suddenly, you couldn't care less about his roommates that may or may not have been within earshot. 

You made a noise in response, though it was broken up by the nasty, dirty sound you made every time you gagged on his dick. You peered up at him through half-lidded eyes, through long, wispy lashes, leaving a trail of saliva running down his thighs that you didn't even mind.

Aki squeezed his eyes shut, biting his lip. "Fuck," he panted, "You're– God."

You hovered over him, a mischievous gleam in your eyes as your lips wrapped around him. His body tensed, his muscles clenching instinctively under your touch, and his wrists strained desperately against the tie that kept them secured. His breath caught in his throat as he tried to shift beneath you, but there was no escape. 

You sucked him into your mouth again, this time more deliberately, lingering longer than before – letting him sit in the back of your throat even though you ached with the strain of it. His stomach twitched beneath you, and you could feel the slight hitch in his breath, his chest rising and falling faster. A small whimper escaped him, muffled by his own lips, and it made your smirk grow wider. His laughter was nervous now, caught somewhere between amusement and helplessness, as your sucking grew harder and more insistent, trailing lower with every press of your mouth. 

The hot air on his damp skin heightened the sensation, making him squirm even more. His body was betraying him—each lick, each slurp, teasing touch of your fingers up and down his inner thighs making it harder to hold back the rising wave of pleasure. You could see it in his face—the way his cheeks flushed deeper with each second, the way his breath became shallow, quick. 

You didn't stop. Your lips brushed lower still, moving deliberately across his cock, lingering just enough around the base to hear the soft gasp from his lips, the quiet hitching of his breath every time your nose brushed against his navel. His hips bucked involuntarily against the bed, and the restraint of his wrists only seemed to make his movements more desperate. The feeling of vulnerability that hit him so suddenly was undeniable, and you couldn't help but feel the rush of satisfaction from the effect you had on him. 

Every time your lips met his skin, it was more intense than the last. It was wetter now, a little messier, each movement of your head up and down his shaft seeming to linger just a bit longer, dragging out the sensation of exposure and teasing. You let your tongue flick out, just once, to trace the line of his skin where your lips had been. His body jumped at the contact, and you smiled at the way his muscles clenched in response. 

He was completely at your mercy.. 

His face had turned pink now, the flush spreading across his neck and down his chest. He bit down on his lip, trying to stifle the sounds that threatened to spill from him, but his breath was ragged, his chest heaving beneath you. You could see the embarrassment burning through his attempts to keep himself composed. 

He arched slightly, his back lifting off the bed as he tried to pull away from the sensation, but the restraints held him firmly in place. His throat tightened as he stifled another sound, but it escaped anyway—a soft, almost involuntary moan that only made you want to go harder. You could feel the heat of his skin against your lips, and you took your time, savoring each moment of his helplessness. 

Before you could continue any further, his voice broke through, low and desperate. "Wait–" His wrists tugged once more against the tie, his body still aching from the restraint, his words barely audible. "Wait, I wanna try something different.

Finally, you paused, lifting your head just enough to let your breath linger over the trail you'd left behind. His chest heaved with the effort of trying to catch his breath, his eyes half-lidded in both frustration and something else—something you couldn't quite place, but you saw it in the way his pupils were dilated, the way his body still trembled beneath you. 

You met his gaze, and for a moment, the playful tension in the room seemed to shift. There was a long, drawn-out silence between you, the only sound the echo of his breathing. You brushed a strand of hair behind your ear, your eyes never leaving his, watching the way he struggled to collect himself, his body betraying him every time he moved. 

"My face," After sufficiently collecting his breath, he nodded, motioning for you to climb back up his torso. "Sit on it."

You relented, sitting back on your heels with a look of playful satisfaction. Your eyes never left him as you studied his flushed face, the way his breaths still came in shallow gasps. There was a brief moment where you almost felt bad—almost—but the thrill of seeing him so vulnerable, so exposed, left you feeling more alive than you had in a long time. 

"You want me to..." You swallowed. "On your face?"

"Yeah."

He was quiet for a long moment, his chest rising and falling rapidly as he tried to steady himself. His face was still flushed that pretty shade of pink, his body still trembling slightly under the aftershocks of the tension. His wrists pulled gently at the tie again, though it wasn't to free himself anymore. It was to center himself, to find the control he had lost in the heat of the moment. 

"What if I crush you?" You asked, hesitant to climb up there. Your ex husband was right about one thing – you had certainly put on a couple of pounds. The last thing you wanted was to break his nose, or something like that. 

"Then I die a happy ma," He shrugged, pupils dilated, "Sit on my face."

You slowly untied the tie that held him, taking your time, watching him intently as you did. The look on his face was a mixture of relief and lingering frustration, and for a moment, you just watched him breathe, the soft sound of his pants filling the space between you. 

"Okay," You sighed. "How do I...? How do we do this?"

"Turn around f'me and back it up," He chuckled. "You can start by taking those pants off."

"You want my ass all up in your face?" You quirked a brow. Still, a little uncertainly, you sat back onto your knees, wiggling your pants down and off of your legs. Then, huffing out a nervous breath, you turned around – straddling his legs, reverse cowgirl in nothing more than your panties. The air felt cold against the wet patch you had made in the fabric.

"You talk a lot, you know that?" He teased. "Come on. Back it up."

With a roll of your eyes, you crawled backwards – back and back, until your hips were hovering over his face, until you could feel the warmth of his breath against your clothed pussy. Until you were eye-to-eye with his cock, still hard and wet from your lips.

"Like this?" You asked. Your legs were shaking already just thinking about how this would go. 

"No," He tutted. "Like this."

His hands snaked up to grip your hips. Then, without a word of warning, he pulled them down until you were flush up against his face. You could feel his lips as they pressed a hot kiss to your pussy through the drenched fabric – his pointed nose as it pressed deep into your cushiony lips.

You felt him hook a finger beneath the crotch of your panties. Then, he pulled them to the side.

"What are you...?" You trailed off. The moment his breath hit your bare skin, you were quiet, shuddering as a wonton gasp left your lips. 

"Such a pretty pussy," He remarked. His tongue flitted out to lick a hot stripe up from your neglected clit to your entrance, and he moaned – fuck – moaned at the taste of you. His grip tightened ever-so-slightly, and then he was diving in, sucking your puffy clit into his mouth.

"Fuck!" You gasped out. This angle was strange, but not at all unwelcome. "Fuck me. Oh God, Aki–"

His roommates. You thought. Surely, any minute now, they would hear the two of you. So, sparing a glance to his twitching cock, you licked your lips and sucked the tip into your mouth. This will keep me quiet.

Keep you quiet it may have done, but him? He was another story. 

The moment the head of his dick was back on your tongue, he was moaning into your slick pussy, pulling you right up against his mouth while he painted circles and shapes with the tip of his tongue all over your needy cunt. It was wet back there – wet enough that your pussy met no friction when you grinded against his face, smearing your juices everywhere.

So fucking hot.

You took him deeper into your mouth, softening up your tongue to allow him more room. Then, you began to deep throat him – take him all the way down to the base.

He responded in kind with a whine, lips wrapped around your clit in a way that had you seeing fucking stars. You rutted your hips back again, desperately seeking more of that searing, white-hot pleasure he was giving you.

He was sucking on you the way you liked – like you were a jawbreaker. Like you were a four-course meal and he was a starving patron.

A few minutes later, and you were getting close already. It was a combined effort from his skilled tongue and the sound of his pretty little moans and whimpers every time you throated him down. You didn't care that your eyes were watering, that your neck and mouth were beginning to ache with the strain. All that mattered was him – the feeling of his big hands gripping your ass in his hands, smacking the skin there every so often until you were gasping (more like gagging) around him.

And, judging by the way he was beginning to squirm, you knew he was close, too. You were determined – determined to make him cum before you did. So, in an effort to finish the job, you went at it a little faster.

Up and down, up and down, sucking and slurping and moaning around his dick – which left you no room to get out anything beyond a series of gurgled moans and groans. The feeling of ecstasy washed over you like the ocean's tide, pulling you further away from shore, deeper into its blue depths.

Aki reached down to tangle a fist in your hair. He grunted something along the lines of 'Good fuckin' girl' into your pussy, and then he was guiding your head up and down his shaft. A little faster now.

Sucking him back into your mouth, you hollowed your cheeks.

Aki sighed, throbbing in your mouth, growing bigger as you felt him get harder. In response to your ministrations, he tightened the suction around your clit, then loosened it again. It was all too much to handle – you felt like you were melting.

"Fuck," He panted, releasing the suction. His hips jumped up as he chased a little more of that release he desperately craved. 

When his hand slipped behind his head to guide your head gently, bobbing you back and forth on his dick, you melted into him. You were struggling to fit the whole thing in your mouth, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes, but you were determined. His shudders and sighs spurred you onward.

"Takin' it so well," He purred, guiding your head. "Gettin' me so close."

You felt that fire in your core reignite, thighs clenching around his pretty face while you pulled back for a moment to slurp on the tip rather unceremoniously, spit dripping down his dick. You tilted your head to the side, wrapping your hands around what you couldn't fit into your mouth to work the rest of him. Your tongue swirled around it like a lollipop.

You were putting in overtime.

As you braced your hands on his hips to sink your head the rest of the way down, you met some resistance, eyes watering as you felt yourself gag on him. 

The muscles in Aki's thighs tensed. With a blissful sigh, he slipped a finger into your warmth. He felt so fucking good, it made your heart skip a beat – long, thick fingers sliding into you with little resistance, tongue working you up to an orgasm already.

"Oh, fuuuck..." He trailed off, then his hand fisted itself in your hair, and you felt yourself mewl. "'M so close, wait–"

(Of course, that only made you want to do it more). You wrapped your lips tighter around him, sucking him down until you were moaning around his length.

"God–" He sucked you back into his mouth, then departed from the wet flesh to shudder beneath you, "Oh, shit, I think I'm–" Another shudder, another tremble, then his hips were arching up off the bed, "Fuck–"

Then he came hard, crying out your name before he broke – popping in your mouth like bubblegum, shooting a warm load down the back of your throat. His grip on your hair tightened, as if he hadn't expected to finish so soon, and then he was huffing out a quiet, blissed out laugh. You swallowed it like it was your job.

"Got a little excited, did we?" You teased, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand. Still, your voice was hoarse when you climbed off of him. 

When you turned to face him, he didn't reply – chest heaving as he struggled to catch his breath. His hair was disheveled and his face was pink, glossy at the bottom where you had been seated. His blue eyes were wide and wild as he licked his lips.

Truthfully, you were okay with the fact that you hadn't finished. His reactions – feeling him arch up into you the way he did – were enough. He did not seem to share your sentiment, gazing at you like you were a slab of raw meat.

"Come here," He answered. "Ride my face, baby."

He's got some crazy stamina, you gaped at him. 

Still, when he didn't revoke his statement, you began to smile. "Yeah?"

"Please," He pleaded with you. 

You swung your leg over him slowly, careful and deliberate, as if you were testing the weight of the moment. The second you settled onto his chest, you felt everything shift. His body was warm beneath you, solid and unmoving, but the look in his eyes—dark, intense—sent a shiver racing down your spine. 

You fidgeted, your fingers brushing over the hem of your shirt in a nervous, mindless gesture, trying to distract yourself from the way his gaze seemed to burn through you. His hair was a mess, sticking to his forehead in wild, disheveled strands, and his lips quirked into the faintest, laziest smirk. From here, you could see him – really see him, and he was fucking beautiful.

"Relax," he murmured, his voice low, teasing, but it did nothing to ease the flutter of nerves in your chest. 

Then he smiled wider, letting his head fall back against the mattress while you settled your thighs around his face. Nervously, you lowered yourself down, hovering over him. "You look great from down here, by the way." 

The words struck you like a physical touch, heat rushing to your cheeks. You opened your mouth, ready to shoot back something—anything—but before you could, his hands shifted at your sides, steadying your hips as he moved down on the bed.

The motion brought you off balance, your breath catching in a sharp gasp as you pressed your palms against the wall behind him to steady yourself. The closeness was overwhelming, his body beneath yours, his hands at your waist, his grin nothing short of devilish. 

"Careful," he said, his voice soft but unmistakably amused. 

"You're impossible," you shot back, your words trembling as much as your hands. 

"And yet, here you are," he replied smoothly, his thumbs brushing gently against your sides, sending sparks skittering along your skin. 

Before you could think of a retort, you felt it—a light, barely-there press of his lips against the most sensitive part of you. Your breath hitched, your entire body freezing in place as he tilted his head, his gaze flicking up to meet yours. 

"You're so tense," he murmured, the warmth of his breath ghosting over your leg as he licked another long, hot stripe across it, this one slower, more deliberate. 

Your knees tightened instinctively against his face, your pulse pounding so loudly you could barely hear the soft rumble of his laugh. 

"What are you—" you started, but your voice faltered when he tilted his head again, wrapping his lips around your puffy pink clit and lavishing it with attention from his tongue.. 

He hummed, his tone maddeningly calm, even as his fingers slid up just a fraction, his grip on your ass a little firmer now. 

Your chest tightened, the heat rushing from your cheeks to the pit of your stomach. "Fuck me, Aki" you managed to whisper, though your voice lacked the conviction you wanted it to have. 

"I want to," he admitted, then went back to practically making out with your pussy, sending a jolt through your body.

You tried to move, tried to pull back and regain some semblance of control, but his hands steadied you, his grip strong but never forceful. Your breath hitched again as he looked up at you, his eyes locking onto yours. The intensity there made you forget what you were going to say, forget where you were entirely – at least, until you heard him slurping you up, gathering your juices onto his tongue.

"Aki, please, I–" You pleaded with the man. Your hand had found its way down to his head, gripping his damp, disheveled locks like your life depended on it. In a matter of seconds, he had single handedly reduced you to a babbling mess. "Mnnnh-"

He groaned into your flesh. With your thighs pressed against both sides of his head, he made for a pretty sight. His hair was tied into a back, though you had ruined most of it with your ruthless rutting. He did nothing to stop you as you clamped your legs over his ears, shamelessly riding his face – just as he had asked.

Prying your legs away from his face, Aki gasped for air. His face was flushed a pretty shade of red. His eyes were wild, lustful as your juices dripped off the sides of his face. "Never gettin' over how good you taste," he panted.

You lifted your hips away from his face in an attempt to make it easier for him to breathe. Your efforts were in vain. He gripped your hips harshly, seating you on his face and then continuing to eat you up like a man starved. 

You found it difficult to pry your eyes away from him. He looked so happy to be trapped between your thighs like this, like he had been waiting ages for it. The way he sucked and slurped expertly at your dripping cunt had your legs trembling around him.

"Sit," he mumbled through a mouthful of your clit. 

"Don't wann'... ngh," You leaned forward, bracing your hands over the bed frame while he dragged your hips back and forth, back and forth over his face until the friction was almost too much to bear. Every time his nose bumped your clit, you mewled, rutting your hips down. "G'nna crush you."

"Sit," he affirmed. "Ride my face."

"Aki– I'm close," You managed to get out through a string of broken moans.

He moaned, pushing your hips up against his nose. He never stopped his incessant licking and sucking, tongue working you up to what would be an earth shattering orgasm. Your pussy was sensitive, so sensitive, yet he wasn't going any easier on you. At this rate, you were convinced you would have to beg for mercy.

"Can't..." You panted. You weren't sure you could finish another time. You were sore, tired, and you were beyond overstimulated.

"C'mon, baby," he paused his desperate licking to beg. "You can do it for me."

You licked your lips, feeling tears begin to well at the corners of your eyes. It was all so much... too much. "I can't," you gasped.

"You can do it, baby," He purred. Sucking harshly on your clit – and then making up for it with a few gentle licks – he added. "Just one, okay?"

On cue, he slid his hands up to your waist, fingers digging into the skin on your waist. You weren't sure if you could take any more. You felt like you were going to fucking pass out.

"Aki, 'm gonna cum," You began, abruptly cutting your own sentence off with a gasp as slipped his tongue inside. "Fuck."

Aki's tongue was long, reaching deeper into you than you expected, and the angle certainly didn't make it better. Almost immediately, he had you arching up, thighs trembling as they clamped around his face, rubbing a slow, steady circle to ease you into the sudden intrusion before he began fucking it into you. You saw stars – and didn't stop moaning until he had to pry your legs open.

You raised your head off the bed, trying to rest your weight on your trembling hands, atop his bed frame so you could get a good look at him. 

You would never forget the sight of him below you like that. His hair – despite having been ruined by your legs – framed his pretty face the same way it usually did. His face was dusted with a gentle, rosy hue again.

You were embarrassed, oddly enough, and laid your head down to cover your face with your hands. He couldn't be real. There was no way this was real. It was too good to be true. 

"Oh my fucking God–" you stammered. "'M gonna cum– I'm gonna cum!"

He parted from your pussy with an obscene slurp, "Come on, baby– Cum all over my face."

And cum on his face you sure did. Instantaneously, somehow, he licked the right spot – just the right amount of pressure – then it snapped. The coil of your release snapped with all of the power of a freight train, your orgasm slamming into you in a way that had your back arching up off of the bed. 

Your hips jolted up against his fingers and his tongue, lips chanting his name like a mantra while feeling every last stroke of his warm tongue against your pussy.

You could feel the shock tear through you in waves, tearing trembling gasps from your lungs while you expelled your juices all over his face and the bed. "Aki," you gasped again once the pleasure had cleared long enough for you to think. Not your soon-to-be-ex-husband, Aki. 

"Oh, God, I made a fuckin' mess," You said, teetering between a gasp and a laugh.

Aki chuckled, his voice low and breathless, and somehow even in this state, he was devastatingly gorgeous. His hair stuck to his damp forehead, his cheeks flushed, and his lips curved into the kind of smile that sent warmth flooding through you. "You're so fucking hot, you know that?" he murmured, his tone both teasing and sincere.

You let out a huff of laughter, shaking your head as you tried to gather your thoughts. But then you looked at him—really looked at him. His head was tilted back against the pillow, his eyes half-lidded but still shining with that unmistakable adoration he always seemed to have when he looked at you. Blissed out and in love, he looked utterly wrecked in the best possible way.

Your gaze flicked down to the pillow beneath him, and you couldn't help but cringe. A mess, indeed. The sight of it—the tangled sheets, the cotton of his pillowcase drenched, the faint evidence of your chaotic moment—was enough to make your cheeks burn again.

When you looked back up at Aki, he was already watching you, his expression softening into something lighter, something playful. For a second, neither of you said anything, just staring at each other like you couldn't believe what had just happened. Then, almost simultaneously, your eyes darted back to the pillow, and it hit you both at once.

You snorted first, trying to stifle the sound with your hand, but Aki wasn't far behind. His laughter started low, rumbling in his chest, before it grew into something freer, more unrestrained.

"Oh my God," you wheezed, doubling over as the giggles took over, your body shaking with the force of it. "Look at this—how the hell are we gonna clean that up?"

"I'll toss it in tonight, but we'll be sleeping without a pillow tonight" he managed to say between breaths, his voice breaking with laughter. "Oh, shit."

That sent you into another fit of giggles, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you leaned forward, burying your face in his shoulder. "Stop," you gasped, "Don't be a fucking dick."

a/n: there it is!! the chapter i've been busting my ass over. i hope it came out good omg, i feel like its terrible but i be way too hard on myself. i wanted to take some time to let you know that I'm currently writing the Aki fanfic that will replace this one once it's all wrapped up -- you can read the first chapters on my profile, it's called Call Out My Name, and it's about a fake marriage that leads to very real feelings (sorta enemies to lovers but not rlly, aki's just bad at expressing himself lol). I would greatly appreciate it if you could go give it a read!! If you loved Shameless, you'll love that one, too!!! Of course, though, nothing will ever replace Shameless in my heart. I love this story too damn much, and I adore the community I've built up on here. Thank you for all of the love so far!! Comment and let me know what y'all thought of this chapter, and maybe even what you hope to see in future ones!! QOTD: have you streamed Rauw Alejandro's new album? Also, is 69 actually an efficient position? (And why is the answer no).

credits: UNKOWN ATM. I found the cover pic on pinterest unfortch. If you know the artist, please let me know, so I can credit them properly for their work!!! This is NOT MY BEAUTIFUL DRAWINGGG. I obviously do not own csm or anything related to it. please do not reproduce, copy, or translate my works anywhere. dont fk w me im a bruja.

also: come find me on my wattpad if u wanna interact more!

taglist: @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505 , @acethebrave , @mitsuyeahhh , @sleepysnk , @enneadec , @noaabean , @em1e , @drakensdarling , @bertholdts--butt , @satanlovesusall666 , @mitsuwuyaa , @noctifule , @scaraphobia , @ask-the-insect-hashira , @lovingranchturkeyweasel , @bontensbabygirl , @slvdsjjk , @novacrystalli , @hanmastattoos , @kodzuksn , @hqtiny , @ohmaiscool15 , @redlittlequeen , @leivane , @goldeneagles-posts , @yeahblahlame , @no-oneelsebutnsu , @cookiesandcreammy , @cawwn , @the-haitani-baton , @littlelovebug98 , @armani78 , @mindurownbussines , @kokos-property , @violetmatcha , @hp-simp505

wanna join the taglist? | shameless ; chapter index

[lambilegs]

Need a pathetic g!p lee harker who just comes home full of stress and lays on top of you while you are sprawled out on your shared bed and she just humps you to release her aggression/stress

g!p lee harker humping reader for stress relief (poor baby needs it)

note to anon: PLEASEEEEEE I've literally thought of this so many times omg. how she'd be so wound up and exhausted after such long hours at the bureau, and would just need your comfort <33 tysm for the ask!! contains: g!p lee, dry humping, reader's genitals aren't mentioned divider by: @pommecita

on the drive home, she's already distracted by thoughts of you. she's been so busy with her current case, barely able to get time in to even get off. as a result, it's made her more needy than usual, pent up from the absence of being inside you all week. and as soon as though enters, oh, well a bunch of others just pour in immediately. her mind is filled with thoughts of the last time you two had sex, and how nice it felt to be inside you, with your walls sheathing her, so tight, so wet.

by the time she gets home to the cottage, her slacks are stretched over her crotch, a very visible tent trapped under the fabric. she can feel her underwear getting slightly wet and sticky from the precum, and even just walking has her throbbing.

when she finds you lounging on your shared bed, in nothing but a t-shirt and shorts, she feels her shoulders stiffen at the sight of your shins. it sounds ridiculous, but all she wants is to run her tongue over them till she's right between your thighs, licking and sucking until you come undone on her face and--

she sucks in a deep breath, and makes her way to you, crawling tentatively and laying on top of you. you immediately wrap your arms around her, dotting her brown hair with kisses. lee lets herself sink into the touch, for it's been so long since she's had this -- this wordless kind of affection.

"did my sweet girl have a rough day?"

fuck, you can't just say stuff like that. she feels her cock twitch at it, and she bites her lip, nearly whimpering. she needs you so damn bad, carnally even. just any relief that can be eased out of a long, hard orgasm.

"please, I..." she drifts off, laying herself flat on your leg, hissing when the plush of your thigh presses right up against her dick.

you feel it, of course you do, laughing when the outline of it brushes your skin. "someone did indeed have a rough day, so it seems."

"stop it," she mumbles into your shoulder. "I'm just pent up. I need to come." after years together and too little sex this week, she has no grasp on her words for once, wanting to make her intentions as clear as possible so that you guys can do something about it.

"yeah?" you coo, and lee's eyes flutter shut at your low, teasing tone. "need to get some hands on that cock till you cream yourself?"

a wracked noise chokes from her, raspy and desperate. she needs you so bad. without meaning to, her hips jerk, her aching cock pressing just right against you and giving her the friction she needs. the touch makes her moan and she intentionally lowers her hips again, needing more. you seem to realize this, raising your leg up and making it easier for her to stroke her dick against it firmly.

lee's head falls to your shoulder, her breath hitching, pleasure winding through her dick and through her thighs, sending a deep ache that makes her entire body writhe. she ruts harder, rubbing herself off on the steady softness of your thigh, the imprint of her dick sinking into your skin. her hot, moist breaths fan along your cheek, tongue lolling out without her realizing at some points. she knows she must look incredibly needy right now, painfully aware of every twitch and contortion of her face. but, she doesn't have it in her to care. it feels too good.

she pins your arms down, ducking down to suck on your neck. it relaxes her some, to have you in her mouth, lips ceaselessly rounding and puckering over a patch of skin. the repetitive motions of it soothe her, and that's a feeling more than welcome when she arches her hips and her sensitive balls brush along your thigh. they're so heavy, so full of come she's almost in pain over wanting to release.

"feels good," she whimpers, hips beginning to flail as she pumps harder. "needed it, I -- ah," she moans when you lift your thigh up, pushing it against her.

"what was that, baby?" you ask, a teasing smirk looped on your face.

that's enough to snap her. she shifts, repositioning her cock right over your crotch, and starts rocking against you, hard and fast. you must feel some of the friction too, your chest pressing against hers as you arch up, struggling against the tight grip she has on you.

"mmph, lee!" you whine when she starts pounding against you faster. "fuck, mm, feels so good, so hard."

"god, I needed you," she pants against your ear. "needed to come inside you so bad."

"please, please, do it after," you rasp. "load me up, fill me so nice, please, please, fill me--"

the images lee conjures up in her mind, of your tight hole leaking with her sticky come, loads of it pouring into you and oozing out, coating your folds as hers, are what undo her. her hips stutter, and the knot in her guts snap. hard. an aching, consuming pleasure runs through her body, enveloping every nerve, every vein, the intensity of it making the entirely of her lower body tighten up. come spurts from her underwear, cock twitching uncontrollably as it bursts against the fabric, leaking and soaking it through.

as she rides out the aftershock with some half-hearted thrusts, her body sags against you, lying completely on top of you. her cheek leaning against yours, her nose buries itself in the soft pillow, inhaling the scent your hair left on it.

"that felt nice," she breathes out, her voice trembling.

your hips jerk up, and you softly whine. "lee, I... I need--"

she lands a kiss to your cheek, her dick beginning to stir again as she reaches a hand down to peel off your shorts. "I know."

by the time you come all over her face, she's ready for round two.

[semiotomatics]

woke up from an anxiety dream to a spider chillin above my (loft) bed

so that's great

[canisalbus]

Vasco and Machete are absolutely adorable, your style is so lovely and you draw the softest beds I’ve ever seen in any art ever

.

[fantasyinallforms]

If anyone needs me today I will be taking my own psychic damage from putting my little guys in devastating situations that I 100% could have prevented but didn't for the sake of good storytelling.

[lost-in-yahargul]

Guys I've been having a very stubborn case of insomnia for about three months now and nothing I've tried seems to help, please hit me with some advice if you can? :')

[tenwhiteandalusians]

and then no one said anything about the fact that if i watched ONE MORE episode tenax pulls a "i'm not angry i'm just disappointed i'm hurt" about scorpus signing with the white faction.

[jkvjimin]

.

[running-in-the-dark]

I've got a psychiatrist appointment tomorrow. mostly to discuss if the new sleep medication is working. it is.. not? I don't know. it sorta makes me stay asleep better but tbh that only really means it's even more impossible to wake up when I need to.

idk at this point I'm getting close to just saying you know what? thank you for trying to help, mr. nice old psychiatrist guy, but let's just give up! who needs sleep anyway (me, like 12-16 hours a day). I'm just not gonna do it anymore! that sounds more doable than ever figuring out how to sleep normally!!

[savage-rhi]

😳