#the way the lines on my lower tummy have gotten deeper

[soft-twink]

Fuck, I’m getting doughy 🫣🥵

He/They

[aching-tummies]

Response to the hunger rp-starter! (Btw I love your hunger prompts you should totally do some more 🤭)

I’d take this little predicament you’re in as the perfect opportunity to listen to your tummy rumble. Since you don’t plan on filling it anytime soon, I’ve got all the time in the world to listen to it complain. I’d pull you into my lap and turn the volume on the movie down so I can hear your tummy better, and I’d keep both hands on it so I can feel the growls vibrate against my hands. I’d poke and prod at it a little when it gets quiet, we don’t want this perfect serenade to end, do we? If the movie ends and you’re ready for a snack, I’d tell you no. Maybe, if you ask politely, you can have a few popcorn kernels, I’ve already emptied most of the bowl by now anyways. I’d listen to your hollow gut continue to beg all night, and as a reward for letting me indulge in your angry tummy, I’ll make a nice breakfast for you. Something light and easy so it doesn’t get upset again. Maybe even keeping you a *little* hungry so I can hear that belly yell at me again 🤭

Response to this. Thank you for including which starter/post you're responding to! Makes it easy to link it. Also, just a reminder that provided you give me enough to find whichever RP-starter anyone wants to reply to--any of the ones on my blog are fair-game and I'll post/fill what I receive when I get around to writing something that's worthy of the responses ^^

I get up, intent on confining myself to the bedroom while you enjoy the movie. You grab my wrist, gently tugging me back to the couch.

"C'mere." You murmur, pulling me onto your lap until I'm seated between your legs. I watch your hand deftly lower the volume on the T.V., relegating it to ambient noise rather than the main feature of tonight.

"Babe--y-you like this movie though." I protest, wincing as my tummy snarls in the throws of a painful hunger pang.

"I love this a lot more." You whisper breathlessly, hands roaming over the oversized sweater I have on. Eventually, your hands snake their way under my sweater to make contact with my sensitive stomach.

My stomach roars, your massaging hands stimulating my organs and stirring up the hunger pangs. I can't help but wince and moan in your lap, squirming whenever a particularly painful cramp assaults my tummy.

After twenty minutes, I realize that this bout of hunger pangs has gone on far longer than any that I've had all day. Usually, the cramping eases after fifteen minutes and the growls only ever sound for about ten minutes. It's been over twenty minutes of griping, churning, and growling without any signs of easing up. On the contrary--the growls have only gotten louder and more frequent. The gnawing chasm-like feeling in my guts has only grown too--like a yawning maw or something.

"Babe!" I hiss, realizing what you've been up to as your left hand massages small circles in a line across my torso--just beneath my diaphragm. Your right hand rests firmly over my navel, a finger lodged deep into it and swirling occasionally, nudging at my sensitive intestines every time a hunger pang rolls through them. I don't have to see your face to know that you're grinning now that I've caught on to your little game.

You've been stimulating my digestive tract on purpose--left hand searching for and stimulating my pyloric valve while your right coaxes the hunger cramps into forming. It's no wonder the hunger hasn't ebbed, but only gotten more intense while sitting in your lap.

You turn up the volume on the movie as I squirm in your lap. I'm getting flustered as I realize that you're playing coy on purpose. Sighing, I lean back against you to try and at least appear unbothered by what's going on. I watch the movie, same as you, but my mind is 100% on the sensations in my abdomen. Your massaging hands slow down just a tad as your attention becomes split between the movie and what's going on beneath your palms. For the whole two hours, you keep massaging my stomach--pressing deeper whenever the growls get too quiet. Each time you press a bit too hard causes me to gasp, introducing more air into my system and creating more growl-fodder as it gets mixed into my guts by your massaging hands. Your right hand occasionally moves from where it's firmly planted over my navel to pinch and prod all over my lower belly. By the end of the movie, my intestines are thoroughly sore from all the pinching and prodding and my upper digestive tract feels like mince-meat from the firm massaging and pinching it has endured over the last two hours.

An ear-splitting growl punctuates the movie just as the credits begin to roll, tapering off only as the screen becomes covered in text.

"Nnngh…ooohhh…" I moan, squirming as what feels like a 7.0 on the Richter scale quakes across my digestive system--the epicentre somewhere around my stomach-organ.

I try to get up but your hands wrap firmly around my belly.

"Nnngh…b-babe…lemme up. 'm gonna…gonna find an apple or something 'cuz I'm not gonna be able to sleep with my stomach this active and empty." I mutter with a pout. You nuzzle against my neck, arms tightening around my noisy belly.

"Hm? No." You murmur against my neck.

"Babe--please! My stomach hurts!" Another loud rumbling shakes my digestive tract and I know for a fact that you had to have felt that one too. "See? I'm hungry and it's gonna wreck itself if I don't give it a little something. Water? Tea? Please, babe--I know tomorrow's a day off, but I really want to get at least some sleep tonight after the week I've had."

You shake the bowl of what was once popcorn at me suggestively. I look down into it and scoff.

"I'm not gonna swallow kernels, love. Popcorn in any form upsets my tummy on a good day and the whole point of fasting was to enjoy freedom from a week of indigestion." I tell you firmly, crossing my arms over my chest even as my stomach continues to snarl.

"Fine. Tea, then." You relent, letting me out of your hold.

I scurry off to the kitchen, quickly chugging a bottle of water from the fridge in hopes of quelling the gnawing ache in my guts enough to not be a distraction. The cold water trickling into it must anger my tummy because the cramps and grumbles it causes make me regret chugging the water straight from the fridge.

I bustle around the kitchen, setting the electric kettle to boil as I open the cabinets to hunt down a mug and to decide on which tea to brew. I settle on Ti Kwan Yin and put three scoops into a large French Press. You'd probably kick up a fuss if I tried using anything with berry or chocolate additives. Granted, I don't like those types as much as Chinese-style teas--but you'd probably nit-pick if I came back with something resembling hot chocolate or juice rather than leaf-water.

Once the water is ready, I rinse the leaves with a splash before letting the tea infuse in the next pouring, leaving the plunger on the French Press up to allow the leaves to dance in the water for a while as I select a mug from the cabinet. The creaking of our bedroom door lets me know that you've abandoned the living room and are waiting for me in the bedroom now. With you no longer watching me, I debate eating that apple. You'd probably be upset with me if I did. I know that you're already going to do your best to keep me up all night--endlessly entertained by your game of keeping my stomach in a constant state of 'hungry-and-noisy'. You'd probably do even worse to me if I put anything solid in my stomach so I refrain from eating that apple.

I do opt to chug a mug of the tea (adding cold water to cool it down faster) before I bring a refilled French Press of tea and two full mugs into the bedroom. Chinese-style tea isn't your favourite, but I'd feel rude for not at least offering you the second mug. Odds are that all of it will end up in my belly which is fine by me if it quells the gnawing, achy hunger pangs.

You've already rearranged our bed into a bit of a nest, patting my side of the bed suggestively. I set the items on the night-table and slide into bed, my stomach sloshing and letting out a watery rumble as the ice cold water and the lukewarm tea slosh about inside.

Before I'm even settled, you're already pawing at my stomach, pressing into it and sloshing at it. You're already using my stomach as a pillow as I finally get settled.

"Aw…do you hear the ocean, babe?" I tease as my stomach lets out a loud, watery burble right into your ear.

You spend all night alternating between dozing on my stomach and prodding at it. Shockingly, I manage to doze off for a couple of hours in spurts throughout the night. I wake whenever a particularly painful hunger pang quakes through my belly, often caused by your incessant poking, prodding, and sloshing of my tummy. Midway through the night, you wake me to have me chug the two mugs of now-cold tea and I manage to get through half of what's in the French Press as well before a sickly burble causes me to stop. I'm full--my stomach flooded to capacity with tea. Even as my stomach protests the fullness, hunger still ripples through the watery sack that is my stomach, organs convulsing and desperately searching for something with some substance to digest but finding absolutely nothing as I've refrained from swallowing anything solid for almost thirty hours now to allow the week-long bout of indigestion to pass.

In the morning, my stomach has finally quieted down. No more gas or excess tea to cause rumbles no matter how much you poke or pinch. Doesn't seem to stop you as I wake to you trying all manner of things to my belly. I wake-up to the sensation of you placing a hand firmly over the upper quadrant of my stomach and firmly pushing down as though to squash a gurgle out of me. A pitifully quiet, whiny rumble resounds through my stomach--whining for breakfast. Even though it's muted, it isn't any less painful than the loud grumbles that ripped through my gut throughout the movie.

"Oooh…nnngh…babe…c'n I…c'n I please have something for breakfast? Nnngh…stomach acid's gonna burn a hole through my gut if I don't." I whimper, rubbing at my stomach as it continues with the pitiful, whiny rumbles.

"Sure thing, sweetie. How about you wake up and I'll make us breakfast?" You suggest.

I nod, lazing about the bed as I try to find the energy to get up. I moan as you pat my stomach roughly before you go, triggering another slightly louder rumble. My guts are still sore from your handling of them and I guess that you've been teasing my pyloric valve while I've been asleep. That's the only explanation for why my torso feels like it was put through a meat tenderizer.

I sit up with a groan, emptiness amplifying as everything shifts. An urgency registers in my brain and I limp to the washroom. My stomach is dreadfully empty, but all that tea and water definitely went somewhere, resulting in another organ getting distressingly full. It's a miracle that we didn't wake to wet sheets--especially with you man-handling my torso all night.

Business taken care of, I stop to brush my teeth as well. The minty taste of the toothpaste is amplified as my taste-buds haven't had anything but the slightly metallic-tasting tea in almost 40 hours now.

By the time I leave the master bedroom to find you in the kitchen, my stomach has begun to growl in earnest again. It roars at the sight of half a slice of toast and a couple of strips of bacon on a plate.

"Sorry, darling. We're out of eggs. Welp--eat up!" You tease, finishing the last bite of the other half of the toast. Sighing, I pick up the toast and begin to nibble on it, hoping that by prolonging the eating process that I can trick my stomach into thinking that there's more than there actually is. I sigh as I feel you wrap an arm around my waist--clearly intent to mess with your favourite part of my anatomy all day.

"You'd better be treating me to something amazing--and filling--at some point today, babe." I warn you as my stomach growls angrily, indignant at the lack of food available to digest as I finish my last slice of toast.

[4dtk]

hello, i hope you’re doing well! can I request holding hands 13, hugs 34, kiss 7 & 31, and touching 38 with johnny? the plot could revolve them finally deciding that it’s time they’re ready to try for kids since they just moved into a new place! thank you <

got carried away. enjoy LMAO

hand-holding, 13: linking hands together during sex

hugs, 34: hugging while grabbing butt

kisses, 7 & 31: passionate kisses, gentle stroking of cheeks

touching, 38: stroking their leg

warnings/tags: dom!johnny, sub!reader, fem!reader, breeding/impregnation kink, daddy kink, brief cockwarming, cunnilingus/oral (f receiving), fingering, missionary, mating press, vaginal penetration

NSFW UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DNI!!!

"how’d you like the place, mrs. suh?" you can’t help but let out a smile at the honorific, leaning into his side at the stunning place you’d manage to get. taking inspiration from pinterest, the array of options for you was blinding, but soon you settled on a style that you could both agree on along with the carefully crafted furnishings you’ve chosen.

"it’s so sexy," you whisper with a laugh, looking around at the pristine kitchen counters and overhead lighting. you’re saying it half as invitation, and you smile knowingly when johnny turns it around to compliment you.

"ya know what else is sexy?" rolling your eyes, you turn to face him to see a lazy smirk stretch across his face. johnny says nothing more and leans in gently, taking your lips with his in a sensual kiss that shows no matter how cheeky he is with you, the love that’s gotten him wrapped around your finger is undeniably unconditional. in a way, it was literal, too where the silver band wraps around your fourth finger as a reminder of your shared love.

your husband pulls away just for a second, "for how many times i’ve came in you, i was sure i would’ve knocked you up by now." johnny has the pleasure to witness the malfunction of your brain, unable to form any words at the casual sentence he drops about fucking impregnating you. he coos and lets out a giggle when you try to pull away from him in embarrassment.

"you-! you’re really not shy saying those kinds of things?!" playfully you push him away, ignoring the turn in your stomach when he had murmured with a low voice. his apology came in the form of kisses along your forehead right up to your lips where you melt once again into his chilling embrace, fingertips as cold as the arctic while his body emanated warmth. you never understood his body temperature, but you couldn’t care much when his touches leave traces of electricity along your skin.

johnny walks you back, feeling around for the kitchen counter that he accidentally bumps you against. with a muttered apology said in haste, your lover captures your lips with his even more hungrily, using the strength in him to prop you up onto the counter. reluctantly, he pulls away again.

"aren’t you an eager one?" his hand strokes the legs that accommodate him, spread to hold him as close to you while his forehead rests on yours.

"how can i not? you’re so tempting without even knowing it…"

you sigh affectionately, "is it also as tempting as kids running around in our new house?"

johnny jerks back in surprise. "you… you want to try, now?"

with a hesitant smile, you reply, "i mean, why not?" you’re afraid you’ve said the wrong thing when johnny’s surprised look doesn’t let up, but soon you’re met with his contagious laugh, looking at you like you were the only thing to exist in his world. his heart’s never felt so warm before looking at you as it does right now and he has to hold himself back from taking you then and there.

"now who’s the eager one?"

you fail to shove him away, a grin plastered on your face as your cheeks flare up completely now, "bitch, you were the one who made the lewd joke!"

"it was a fact," you roll your eyes for the second time that night, pulling him in anyway to smash your lips with his. you're needy, unable to keep your hands off of him even when your skin is stinging from the cold temperature of the marble counters. johnny groans softly into your mouth, pushing onto your hips more and more to feel any form of friction with you.

he picks you off the counters effortlessly with a tight arm wound around your middle and lazy pecks placed onto your neck.

"do you think we'll get a noise complaint tomorrow?"

pursing your lips and shrugging was your answer, impatient with the countless questions and quips johnny liked to do during your sessions. "okay, okay, i'll shut up." johnny knows you like the back of his hand. it's an obvious feat, certainly, since you decided to say yes to his private proposal on the top of an observatory. under the stars, where they had given their blessing.

johnny knows you like the back of his hand in that way, too. and you forgot how fucking skilful he could be when duty calls.

you find your brows furrowed and your hand clutching onto the sheets for dear life while johnny's tongue relentlessly flicks against your clit. he eats like it's his last meal, both hands holding your thighs open. the warmth of his tongue makes you shiver, already feeling your slick leaking in between your cheeks.

obscene noises bounce off the walls of the new place, sheets already messy from your constant thrashing although everything else — the cupboards, the bedside table, the vanity — looked untouched. at least now you know this innerspring mattress was a good choice.

"you- fuck, johnny!" your moans only fuel your lover more, who settles into a more comfortable position, suctioning your bud into his mouth. your body twitches so much that you can feel the tightening of his grasp on your thighs, stilling you into a thrilling sensation of oversensitivity even before he's got himself buried in you.

"argh- fuck, fuuuck, mhnh-!" johnny swears his eyes roll back at the way you groan out multiple please's, which merges with the whimpers for him to go faster and deeper just as he sticks a finger in. your cunt clasps around the digit easily, mouth now speechless from how deep he reaches into you. "oh my god, j-johnny!"

johnny slips in a second finger, and a second later, a third which you easily welcome with your sopping pussy. he pumps all three into you at an agonisingly slow pace, half focusing on the lewd noises coming from below him and half licking up the arousal that lingers around his lips.

the hooded lids of his eyes stare up at you like prey, lowering his tongue back onto your clit. the combination makes you unravel, little mewls escaping your lips that contribute to the heat of the room.

"johnny- please fuck- please- can you fuck me now? c-can't-"

he shuts you up by sucking harder, causing your thighs to close in around his head. your pleas is not lost to him, but you're more focused now on chasing your high selfishly with how fucking good he's working his tongue despite the slow speed of his fingers.

"impatient." lick. "little." lick. "bitch." lick. he's loving every second where he doesn't give into you. "plus, you're gonna have to do more than that, honey."

"i-i need your cock, please, johnny!"

tut tut. "wrong name, baby." you whimper when his fingers slowly slip out, teasing your gummy walls by rubbing at your hole. you hardly can form any words, but you try your best anyway.

"c-cock, daddy- want your cock so fucking bad-"

"again."

sinking further into the delirious feeling of pleasure, you're willing to let go of any dignity just to have him deep in you, shooting loads and loads of his seed where there's no room for you to not get pregnant. "ah- d-daddy, please- i need your cock to split me open!"

"n-need your cum." the fingers halt, johnny's eyes are filled with you splitting your legs wider and wider. your hole is begging for him, clenching around nothing as it leaks more and more.

he hardly can contain his excitement, pants shimmied down to reveal his tight boxers. it's straining against his already hardened length, and he sighs in relief when he finally pulls the last remaining fabric down showing his tip that's angrily red, aching to be in you just by a few pumps of his hand. "all for you, pretty girl."

the name elicits a bashful smile from you, "need a suck, daddy?"

johnny caresses your sensitive sex gently, "'s okay, just wanna be deep in you. ain't that right, babygirl?"

you can taste him on your lips as he kisses you softly, a hand reaching up to stroke your cheek with a ghost of a touch. his eyes soften just a little before he nudges it into you, playing with your cunt just a little that deliciously clasps around the intrusion. a long groan leaves his lips when he finally gets deep into you, bottoming out in no time. smoothly, he slips an arm around your waist, supporting your arching back that grinds to feel more of him.

"that's right, baby, just like that. moan for me." his thrusts start out slow and you want to cum just from those few movements, his shaft brushing up against your walls so obscenely. your moans are like music to him, lips occasionally lingering at his ears where your repeated calls of daddy, daddy makes his thighs shake and his hips stutter.

you're certain you're drooling by now, trapping the man with your legs. his hips move quicker now, muttering praises that has your pussy fluttering around him and arms curling more around his neck. the line blurs more and more and all that's residing in your head is how good he feels in you paired with the wet pap, pap, pap of his hips meeting your cunt. gradually, the knot deep in your tummy tights like a coil, aching for release.

"god! j-johnny... you're so fucking deeep... hah-" with a tongue lolled out, you can only mumble short sentences, sometimes choked out in a sad attempt to call out to your lover. "ah- i am, a-aren't i? can't wait to- fuck- pump you full of my cum. want you filled to the brim, you'd like that, yeah?"

like a broken record, there's a chorus of yes's that leave you, at the thought of seeing your pussy struggling to take the many loads of johnny's seed as you whine and thrash at the way he'd push it back into you. and that's exactly what he plans to do.

he grunts when you tighten around him, jerking and transitioning into shorter, quicker strokes, desperate for release until he finally bursts. head buried in your neck, hot breaths littering your skin. you're not far behind, toes curling at the immense pleasure you're experiencing that when it comes, you shiver at the way you come undone, relishing in the way johnny spurts the warm liquid into you.

you're left to rest for a minute, his cock still buried in you. he can't get enough of you, he can never get enough of you. that's why he finds himself fucking into you again, the amount of rest not doing much for your sensitive body. it overwhelms you so much that you can't help but let your wanton moans fill the room, riddled with not a single thought.

"you feel so good around me, baby." johnny takes your legs, lifting them up from the previous missionary position. his cock delves deeper the same time he presses them into your chest, eliciting a shameless cry from you, begging him to move. "just to be certain, hm? gotta be sure that you're full of my cum — so i'd have the pleasure of seeing your belly swell up with my baby, your boobs full with milk."

"plus, i'm gonna need to be sure that i'm gonna become a daddy." using an arm to hold your legs down, the free hand grasps onto yours that's holding onto the headboard. he misses the first time, but catches your fingers in time with his thrusts.

"daddy... hah- please, you're filling me up so g-- so good!"

johnny groans, impaling you with his dick with a speed faster by the thousands compared to the previous round. with your legs tucked snugly to your chest, you can do nothing but plead with your eyes for any sort of relief.

"cum- cumming! cumming! jo- johnnyyy..." with a scream of his name, you're gushing around his length, head making a terrible indent into the softness of your pillows. your mouth grows lax, drool leaking from all sides of your mouth before the other's thrusts falter bit by bit. you take his cock to the hilt, balls twitching from releasing into you.

"fuck, baby, take it- take all of it in your pussy." he shoots another load deep into your cunt and you feel sticky all of a sudden, coming down from the intense high of the dizzying state you were always put in whenever johnny was in you. with a kiss to your twined hands, johnny murmurs out i love you to your fingers, planting another kiss on the silver ring that you donned.

weakly, you reply. "love you too, so much." although, you're confused when the other doesn't pull out.

"it's a plug. so i don't have to worry about you not getting a positive on that pregnancy test." you giggle at that. giving into him even when your legs return to their natural state. tenderly, johnny manoeuvres you onto your side, his still hard length resting in you and his hands move to your ass, squeezing it that makes you squeal softly. "it's a win-win. i get a baby, and you won't have to clean the sheets."

"oh my god," your words are littered with laughter, exchanging small talk with the slowly darkening sky with the promise of a little one and a lifetime with johnny suh, the man who'd given you the stars and the moon if you'd asked.

[adashofniallandasprinkleoflunacy]

A/N: If there’s anything I learned from doing this, it’s that vampirerry is an utter WHORE. Good for him!!!! As for myself, I’m done with the semester and my term projects and finals left my singular brain cell fried, so this was a nice way to get back into writing again. I hope you guys enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing it! Thank you to the anon that suggested it, this was super fun to do! :D

read you’re someone i just want around here

word count: 6k

A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Harry is very attentive when it comes to aftercare with Y/N. The sex they have is often rough and includes toys, degradation, and multiple rounds, so he believes aftercare is non-negotiable. Rough sex can be fun, but if it’s not followed by a lot of communication and post-performance support, it can take a hard emotional toll on a person. Even when intimacy isn’t meant to be inherently sentimental, there has to be a certain level of connection and etiquette surrounding it, or it could end badly for both parties involved. He always checks on her immediately after they finish, simply to gauge her headspace and how her body is responding, and after he’s made sure she’s alright, he goes into his usual routine of skin-to-skin contact and gentle coddling. Reassurance and praise is just as important afterwards as it is during, because it’s good to let a partner know that your appreciation runs deeper than just the physical need felt in the heat of the moment; everyone deserves to feel valued beyond their body. 

Harry proceeds to clean Y/N up after every session, because it’s the least he can do since she’s usually the one getting the brunt of the work. He’ll fetch a clean towel dampened under warm water to wipe her clean, or he’ll offer to help give her a bath or a shower— whichever route she prefers. Harry dresses her, and changes the sheets if need be, and tucks her into bed to ensure she’s nice and comfortable. If it’s been a particularly intense session, he’ll go the kitchen and bring back a snack and a drink— a granola bar and a Gatorade, or some chips and her favorite juice, or if she’s feeling especially hungry, he’ll happily go out of his way to prepare her an actual meal— and he insists on feeding it to her bit by bit until she’s come to enough to handle it on her own. If she’s not hungry, he at least brings her a glass of water and urges her to drink it; better to be safe than sorry. After that, more cuddling is the status quo, which normally ends in Y/N falling asleep in his arms, and Harry has absolutely no problem with that at all.  

B = Body Part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Harry’s favorite body part of Y/N’s is probably her chest. Yes, he likes it for sexual reasons— obviously— but there are innocent reasons for his fascination, as well. He likes how responsive she gets when he touches her there— how he can get her going just by groping her the way she likes it, or by using his mouth to tongue across her nipples until she’s writhing in pleasure and whining for more. He loves leaving hickies all over her tits, probably more than she likes receiving them. It’s just so fucking hot seeing himself marked all over her, especially when she’s putting on a bra and he can see all of the dark bruises scattered across the cleavage spilling from the undergarment. Filth aside, he also enjoys loving all over her chest. Absentmindedly cupping them while they’re snuggling, nuzzling his head between them while they’re watching television, massaging them under her shirt with his large palms as she sits back against his chest, sipping a glass of wine and chatting away, unwinding after a long day. It’s a form of intimacy; it provides a type of closeness nothing else can. 

As for his own favorite body part, it’s a tie between two different areas. He loves his thighs— they’re one of his most prominent features. They’re thick and meaty and sensitive, so they’re the perfect sweet spot to touch when he wants to get riled up. Given his previous response, it can be easily deduced that he likes to get hickies there, as well. The marks look great peeking out from under his briefs (for the short amount of time they last, anyways) and they make a great accessory to the large tigerhead tattoo along his left thigh. It’s artwork, really; a proper Picasso. 

His other favorite body part...well, take a lucky guess. It’s likely not that far off— literally, considering it hangs right between his thighs. 

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Harry’s personal preference is cumming inside. He adores feeling the way Y/N tightens around him when he finally orgasms (she’s just so warm and soft and unbelievably tight; it’s like she was made for him), almost as much as he loves seeing her reaction. Her body will immediately start to wriggle and her back will arch as she releases broken little whimpers, clinging to his shoulders with her nails and begging him to fill her until he’s milked his worth. Hearing her ragged breathing and feeling her sweaty chest stutter against his is enough to do him in, but when she goes as far as to gnaw on his ear and whine a soft little, “Want it all, baby. Want you dripping out of me when we’re done.” Well, that’s enough to kill him all over again. 

Of course, there are times when Harry likes seeing himself all over her, too. On her outstretched tongue, or smeared across her pretty face and plush lips (she looks particularly cute when it ends up all over her eyelashes), or streaked over the valley of her tits, or pooled at the center of her tummy. If he’d been taking her from behind, then he likes seeing it run down the backs of her thighs, or splattered across the dip of her spine. And if she’d been giving him a handjob, then seeing himself dribbling down her fingers is just as good. Why? Because those fingers usually end up in her mouth, which means he ends up all over her tongue, and so the cycle comes full circle. How poetic. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Did Harry suggest wearing a matching set of a vibrating cock ring and buzzing bullet to do grocery shopping once? Yes. Did he drop three glass jars of peach preserves by accident as a result, causing them to have to book it out of the bread aisle while trying to look as unsuspicious as possible, which failed horribly because they were literally hobbling like a crippled elderly couple? Also yes. Did they end up fucking in a Target fitting room? Definitely. 

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

A lot of experience. Tons. Immense amounts. Insane amounts. Two hundred years of the same seven continents just means two hundred years worth of sex across every single one. And it gives you plenty of time to find the clitoris, as well as giving you a chance to learn the female anatomy like the back of your hand. That being said, Harry doesn’t doubt he could make Y/N cum with his wrists tied behind his back and a blindfold strapped to his face. In fact, he’s made her cum just by using his thigh, so that in itself is enough credibility to last him several more lifetimes. The toy chest in his closet and the fact that he’s well-endowed are bonuses— he knows more than enough tricks to keep her satisfied with just his tongue. Not to mention his fingers— they’re long for a reason.

F = Favorite position  

Funny enough, Harry doesn’t have one. He’s spent so many decades cycling through every possible position in existence, it’s gotten to where he can’t pin-point a preference; all positions are unique, and they each have their own appeal. Reverse cowgirl is nice because he likes watching the way he stretches Y/N open with every plunge of her hips, and it also gives him the luxury of marking his rings across her ass in the process. Regular cowgirl is nice, too— having her chest bouncing in his face is nothing short of a divine miracle, in his opinion. Doggy style is a staple, and there’s always different add-ons he can apply to spice it up; for example, taking her from behind with her wrists tied to her ankles, or bending her over the kitchen counter with her face pressed into the marble, or fucking her against his glass wall with her hands and chest flushed to the cool surface as their breaths fog the floor-to-ceiling window. 

Missionary is a tried and true option, and just like it’s prior counterpart, it can be enhanced with a variety of extra tricks. Bondage is a good condiment, against the wall is always a nice touch, spread-eagle never goes wrong, and just having her legs wrapped around his lower back is more than enough. However, he does have two favorite variations of the position. The first is when he mounts her legs onto his shoulders or along the inside of his elbows to open her up more, and then just ramming his hips down at a very specific angle that hits her g-spot just right, pounding her into the bed so hard she tears the sheets off the mattress. The second is a cowgirl-missionary hybrid: he sits back on his heels and uses the steep downward slope created by his thighs as elevation, pulling her ass onto his tilted lap and swinging her legs over either side of his hips. He gropes her waist with his palms and yanks her forward, bouncing her against his cock and watching her completely dismantle as he nudges all the right places with as much speed and force as she deems fit. 

And then there’s fucking from the side, but that’s a whole other extensive conversation he doesn’t have time for. 

Actually, maybe Harry will entertain it for a minute or so. He usually throws one of Y/N’s legs over his neck to get a deeper range, manhandling her roughly onto her side and yanking her closer to his body by her waist, grasping it with stern vigor and holding her down against the mattress, grunting out a gravelly, strict command along the lines of, “Stay fucking still.” He’ll drill into her at a brutal, consistent pace, staining his fingerprints along the curves of her torso and sponging damp kisses onto her ankle, smirking into her skin as he watches her fist at the duvet in a futile attempt at maintaining her bearings. It’s pretty evident that she can’t, though; the way her eyes lull around their sockets from his harsh stride does a terrible job at hiding her lack of self-control, alongside the fragmented curses she gasps out whenever he nudges her g-spot with the head of his cock. 

“Oh, that was such a pretty noise. Did I hit that little spot you like?”

Her response will be begrudging, as always, which he thinks is ridiculously useless considering he can see her burying her face into the pillow to hide how her jaw drops open in sheer rapture. “No.”

“No?” The vampire leans forward, stretching her leg towards the headboard and preening at the garbled squeak that escapes her gritted teeth, plunging deeper as he lowers himself to her level. He knots her hair around his knuckles, tugging sharply until her face is tilted back enough to meet his fiery gaze. “Then why are you starting to shake?

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It depends on the mood, honestly. There are definitely serious moments, but Harry enjoys the humorous ones just as much. He already adores making Y/N laugh and smile on a regular basis, and that desire only grows when he’s buried between her thighs, simply because she just looks so fucking cute laughing with her hair splayed around the pillows in a messy halo, her sounds of glee stuttering due to how sharply she’s jolting against the bed. He loves feeling her giggle into his mouth as he cracks sarcastic jokes and makes stupid witty comments that break the intensity in the air, especially because she’s usually clever enough to return them with some of her own. Then they both end up snickering like idiots as he tries to keep a solid pace, which eventually tapers to a messy, haphazard stride as their laughter drowns out their goal to the point where he has to take a genuine break to collect himself. There’s tons of examples— how could there not be? Sex is hardly ever perfect, so awkward moments are not only expected, but guaranteed. What better way to handle them than with a bit of humor?

There was an incident once where Harry accidentally knocked their foreheads together so hard, they both bruised (which he responded to with, “I’m pretty sure this isn’t what Cosmopolitan meant when they suggested matching couples tattoos.”). Another time, he got so into the moment he didn’t realize he was jack-hammering the top of her head into the backboard until she brought it to his attention (and made a comment saying it sounded like a sped up version of the beat to We Will Rock You). A bad case of the hiccups. Y/N burping right in his face halfway through his orgasm. A random leg cramp that made him think he was going to need amputation to survive. Accidentally rolling off the bed or couch onto the ground and nearly dislocating both of their spines in the process, getting his cross earring tangled in her hair and nearly ripping off his ear trying to get it out, and the unfortunate collapse of a pillow fort he’d spent over an hour building. He even sneezed in her face once, and when she instinctively went to shove him back, she wound up slamming her palm into his nose so hard he nearly passed out. Nose bleeds aren’t necessarily sexy, per se, but he just dug blindly through her nightstand until he found two new tampons somewhere in that black hole she calls a drawer, shoved them in his nostrils, and kept going. No one can ever accuse him of being unresourceful. 

Queefing. Lots and lots of queefing, which he usually starts mimicking with his mouth, and then she responds to that by whining and telling him to cut it out, and then he takes to mocking her whining instead. It normally finishes with them laughing so hard that Harry’s cheeks hurt from smiling so big, but it’s a good type of pain. The best type of pain. 

H = Hair (how do they groom?)

Harry likes keeping himself neat and orderly, but he doesn’t enjoy going bare, so trimming is his grooming preference. There’s just something so unappealing about a completely smooth dick— it looks like raw chicken and it’s fucking disgusting. He doesn’t have anything against a good bush, but it tends to get unruly and he’d rather not have to overcomplicate his shower routine. And honestly, he can’t trust himself because last time he had a full front yard going, he got shitfaced and tried to braid it on a dare. Keeping the hedges trimmed is the ideal landscaping option, and it just looks way hotter— a uniform dusting of hair is a good accessory and it just makes everything look more cohesive, given that he also fancies keeping his happy trail thick. It’s all about aesthetics, isn’t it? 

I = Intimacy (the romantic aspect)

It’s no secret that Harry’s been somewhat detached from intimacy for the last two hundred years or so. Intimacy is reserved for genuine romance, and that’s something he hadn’t entertained since before the lightbulb was invented. But now that he has Y/N, intimacy has crawled its way back out from the deepest recesses of his subconscious, where it had been shoved into a bottomless pit with the rest of his trauma. He likes it— he likes opening up to her in any way he can, because sharing those obsolete parts of himself with someone again is more fulfilling than he ever imagined. He likes kissing her randomly when she’s halfway through a sentence, just to feel her words die off abruptly in her throat as she gives into his gentle gesture, a delicate smile spreading across her satin lips. He likes whispering sweet phrases of encouragement into her hair when they’re tangled amidst sweaty limbs and rumpled sheets, reminding her of how much he cares for her and how beautiful she looks when she’s so far gone and how she makes him feel like his entire body has been set alight. He likes sponging soft pecks across the stretch marks along her thighs and across the dimples on her belly, her skin candy and velvet on his tongue as she releases a watery sigh that lets him know he’s doing all the right things in all the right places. He just likes letting her know she's special to him, in any and every way he can. 

Intimacy forges timeless bonds, and he reckons that assumption is unarguable, considering he knows a thing or two about eternity. 

J = Jack Off (masturbation headcanon)

Harry likes to jack off, obviously. Who doesn’t? It’s why he has an entire section of his toy chest dedicated to self-pleasuring tools. Vibrating cock rings, an array of lubes that range from temperature-changing to sensation sensitivity, and a few pocket vags that get the job done whenever Y/N is out of commission (usually because of work). His favorite one is an electronic sleek black model that is made of a premium silicone material and has a variety of massage settings, suction strengths, and internal textures. It’s designed to make the session feel more real, and yes, it was expensive, but self-love is always worth the splurge. 

The beauty of living on his own is that he can get off wherever and whenever he wants, without having to stress about someone interrupting an important step in his pampering routine. He usually does it in his room and on his bed, simply because Y/N’s pillow is close by and the experience is heightened when her scent is swimming around his hazy, bliss-drunken mind. If Harry is feeling particularly needy, he’ll ditch the toy all together and just hump one out against the mattress or cushion. If it’s a particularly restless day, he’ll take a toy downstairs and lazily play within himself on the couch while browsing through Netflix. Those instances usually average a few tamer orgasms rather than a single large one, but he’s not complaining; his stamina comes in unapologetic waves that stem from a never-ending supply, and he certainly has the time to kill. If Harry gets the sudden urge in the shower or while he’s relaxing in his jacuzzi, he won’t bother fetching a trinket; he’ll just stroke one out with his hand, using the cool metal of his trusty lionhead ring to tease the tip until he brings himself to orgasm. It turns out daylight crystals have more than one use. 

There is one common factor amongst all these different choices, though: Y/N is present in every fantasy. And if the vampire is feeling especially bold, he’ll grab his phone and take a video of whatever he’s doing to himself, and then she’ll have a nice little gift waiting for her once she gets out of the café for the day. That usually leads to him receiving a present in return later that evening, and then he’s dialing her contact before the clip is even done playing, and then what he does during his alone time doesn’t require him being so alone anymore. 

K = Kinks 

Harry has tons— in fact, he has so many, he can’t really keep track. And he also has the sneaking suspicion that if he were to ever jot all of them down, he’d end up locked in some type of sex addict rehabilitation center. Bondage is a big one, so he’ll start there. He’s great with ropes, given that he learned his way around them ages ago. Chains are nice, but they can be a pain to set up without the right equipment; he’s thinking of getting a reinforced metal hook installed into his ceiling, like the one in his storage closet, which he uses to keep his punching bag secure. Handcuffs, obviously— velvet-lined, straight metal, fuzzy coverings, he’s got it all. Dominance, degradation, Daddy, Sir, choking, brat-taming, spanking, flogging, slapping— impact play in general, to be honest— spitting, wax, praise, begging, masochism, branding (mild stuff, no molten metal shit), collaring, discipline, dirty talk, edging, exhibitionism, face-fucking, face-sitting (with him on the receiving end), giving oral (is that a kink? It is now.) gagging (both the action and using the actual object itself), breeding (he hates that term but that’s the official name, unfortunately), teasing, voyeurism, role play, and… he thinks that’s it. Oh, and blood, but that doesn’t really count for apparent reasons. 

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

Y/N’s couch is sacred, at this point. Their entire relationship started on that lumpy, worn excuse of a sofa, and it’s seen them through their progression from strangers to friends with benefits to lovers to more. It’s comfortable enough, the dark color hides any explicit stains, and the cushions always smell of her signature mixture of honey and lavender combined with Snuggle fabric softener. It’s finicky, but irreplaceable. His kitchen counter is a close second. It’s provided a lot, taken a lot, been through a lot— through a lot of Lysol wipes, to be specific. If it wasn’t marble, it likely would have been reduced to chunks and rubble by now, courtesy of his enhanced strength gripping the edges as he slams her against the smooth surface. The backseat of his Cadillac is consecrated, as well; there’s just so much erotic appeal to fucking in a car with rock music blaring in the background, muffling the obscene sounds of bodies connecting and a mixture of fever-pitch moans. The couch, the counter, and the Cadillac— the Unholy Trinity. 

The jacuzzi is nice, too, but for the sake of his clever little “c” alliteration, he’ll leave that one as an implied token. 

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

As much as Harry claims he likes full submission in bed, he can’t deny that he loves being challenged. Delivering punishment and coaxing out an orgasm is so much more satisfying when he has to fight for it; it’s so fucking hot watching his girlfriend try to best him in a power struggle, especially when she finally— and undeniably, since he always wins— caves under his will and winds up begging him for what he otherwise would have gifted her freely. That’s where the brat-taming kink comes into play. He likes it when she mouths off and makes snarky digs, and he enjoys it even more when he tries to set her in place and she amps her disobedience as a result. There’s nothing more attractive than a battle of wits with someone who is a perfect match in every way. And when she channels her attitude into physical gestures, it riles him up beyond compare. For example, when she smirks and rolls her eyes, despite the fact that there’s trails of tears staining her cheeks and mascara smeared all over her waterline? Christ, he could go feral. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

No feet, no feces, no beastiality. There’s probably more, but those are the ones off the top of his head.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Receiving oral is great— he highly recommends it, solid ten out of ten— but giving it is so much better. Harry’s always been a giver, even when he was young and barely knew his way around a woman’s undergarments. The stereotypical expectation for a person who is beginning to explore their sexuality is that everything they do, they do for their own gain. It’s a selfish realization, yes, but it’s a primal type of selfishness that no one can truly be blamed for. It’s a simple concept: when you start having sex, you want as much personal benefit as possible. It’s only natural. But from the second Harry became sexually active, he came to find that providing release to his partner outweighed the bliss he could get from letting them pleasure him instead. It’s not direct pleasure, but rather cognitive, which more often than not translates itself physically. And when it comes to Y/N, that euphoria manifests tenfold. 

Nothing compares to having his face buried between her legs as she tugs and yanks at his hair desperately, her chest heaving and jaw falling open as he uses his tongue to unravel her from the inside out. Spitting sloppily onto her folds and hearing the raw gasp of aroused shock that escapes her sore throat, which causes his swollen lips to spread into a dirty grin as he latches onto the sensitive bud at the thick of her core, fiddling with it until her legs are trembling uncontrollably around his sturdy shoulders. Watching her features go slack as he bobs his neck fervently between her thighs, swiping the bridge of his nose across her clit over and over until the entire bottom half of his face is drenched in her excitement. Fucking his tongue into her and feeling her buck against his jaw as she holds him in place with her fingers tangled in his curls, whimpering his name repeatedly in a voice so shattered, he could probably build a mosaic with the fractures. Feeling her drip down his chin and into the collar of his shirt, savoring how sweet she tastes as he pins her hips down against the bed and groans feverishly into her cunt, his ego idolizing the image of her so disheveled under his influence. 

A measly blowjob is hardly any competition to that. Harry could very well cum just from eating Y/N out. In fact, he has, and that in itself is all the proof he needs. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

This is one of those other factors that depends on the mood. If Harry has been waiting all day for it, his impatience bleeds into his rhythm, which means he settles for fast and hard. It means he settles for bending her over the back of his couch with one palm around her throat and his other fingers in her mouth, pounding into her with so much force, the sofa starts shifting across the ground. If Y/N has been teasing him endlessly for a decent amount of time, it’ll be rough and deep, but not fast; he’ll drag it out for as long as possible, just to make her regret acting like such a spoiled brat. That’s when he brings out the paddle, or the crop, or just manhandles her across his lap and spanks her until she’s apologizing profusely through her whines. If he’s in a soft, romantic headspace, it’ll be slow and sensual, with lots of gentle caresses, giggly kisses dusted across eager lips and droopy eyelids, and penetrating strokes that make his toes curl and tummy clench. 

Pace is relative, but the message behind it is all the same: I want you more than anything, and I’m going to show you just how deeply I mean it. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Quickies are fun, Harry will admit. They’re filthy and messy, and they show just how far gone two people are for each other to the point where they can’t wait to feel one another at a later time; that they need to be together now, or they’ll go absolutely insane. Quickies are saved for when the urge strikes at random times. For when he’s out with Y/N at a park, sitting under the shade with his head in her lap as she combs his curls out of his eyes and thumbs over his chin affectionately, and the sun filters through the tree canopy just right to where it illuminates her lashes and the suppleness of her cheeks in a manner he deems ethereal. For when they’re at the mall, walking hand in hand and licking at ice cream cones as they survey the shops, and she reaches over to wipe a bit of Rocky Road off the corner of his mouth, replacing the stain with a soft stipple of her lips instead. For when they’re out eating dinner and playing footsie under the table like immature teenagers, and she’s trying to steal a French fry from his plate but he keeps fighting her off with his fork because, “I told you to order your own, but you wanted those disgusting potato skins instead!” And she’s laughing so brightly and unapologetically, giving him a look that so obviously tells him she can’t wait to get him alone, and nothing seems quite as flawless as that fraction in time, then and there and nowhere else.

These simple but memorable moments cause him to get love boners, which he jokingly refers to as “sniffy stiffies,” where “sniffy” has to do with being sentimental, and “stiffy”...well, that one is pretty self-explanatory, no? It always ends with them shagging in the car, or in the family bathroom of a diner, and in the case of the park, in an obscure area of the forest that lines the jogging trail. 

Quickies are just that— fast, but meaningful nonetheless, because they come from a place of genuine emotion. They’re fleeting, but unforgettable. Sniffy stiffy quickies, if you will. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Taking risks is the norm in Harry’s life, especially when it comes to his sex habits. He’s proven time and time again that he has no problem riding along the seams of a dare and just barely making it out unscathed, so experimenting outside of the bedroom is just another day in the life. Fingering Y/N in a music room in an antique shop, getting road head during a two hour drive back to Los Angeles, ripping his girlfriend’s panties out from beneath her dress at one of California’s most prestigious restaurants— the list is endless, really. Harry likes to think he has a gift for coming up with inspirational quotes on the spot, so he’ll lend his expertise here and now: “A life without risks is a life that isn’t worth shit.” It even rhymes, so he knows sorority pledges will have a ball putting it in their Instagram bios. A bit of charity work for the bird-brained. 

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Endless stamina. Literally. Vampires don’t stay tired for long, so he could be ready to go again within seconds. And he can last long, as well; his stubbornness and pride depend on it, and he likes making his partner cum first as an ego boost. He can go as many rounds as Y/N can and more, though he won’t push it. He doesn’t want her to end up in the ER with a bruised cervix. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Harry could run a sex shop from his closet; Y/N doesn’t take the piss by calling him “Fifty Shades” for no reason. He uses them on himself, he uses them on her, and he got high once and tried to sword fight Y/N with a dildo, so it’s safe to say he definitely uses them quite a bit. If his Lovesense Lush 3 vibrator could talk, he’d be drawn and quartered for excessive debauchery. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Harry loves teasing, that’s no mystery. Winding people up is one of his most practiced skills, so of course that would channel into his intimate life. He’s mastered it, though it’s not like it’s hard. A drawn out blink here, or a feathery touch there. An inch of space between his and Y/N’s lips to establish some tension, or squeezing her inner thigh with his palm hard enough to draw a tiny squeak from her chest. Touching her through her clothes, or leaving a trail of wet kisses down her throat and stopping right at her cleavage. Biting the sensitive skin along the inside of her knee, or dragging the tip of his cold nose down the center of her twitching tummy. Lapping slowly at her nipples until they perk up, or sinking a single long digit inside her and keeping it there just to feel her clench around it needily. And once he gets a pattern going, teasing molds into edging, edging molds into begging, begging molds into praise, and before he knows it, he’s hit four of his kinks with one roll of the dice. 

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Harry is very vocal in bed, and he’s not ashamed of it. He knows for a fact that Y/N loves it, and if him being loud gets her worked up, then he’ll let his throat go out in the process. He’s noticed that in different situations, he has an arsenal of sounds for each. If he’s being rough and dominant, he tends to groan, grunt, and growl. If he’s being desperate and needy, he turns to whines and whimpers to communicate how he feels. If he’s too zoned into the moment to distinguish all his emotions, broken moans and stuttered mewls are his default. No matter the circumstance, they all take the same route: they start low and soft, and escalate in volume proportional to the intensity of the moment. So what if half the building is hearing him orgasm for the third time as he mocks his girlfriends sobbing pleads and calls her his “dirty fucking whore”? Let’s be honest, it’s probably the highlight of their week. He has a great voice— a sultry, deep baritone that compliments his English accent nicely— and anyone would be lucky to hear it spew the filth it does. He’s yet to get many complaints, so he doesn’t intend on stopping. 

W = Wildcard (random headcanon)

An honesty hour moment seems interesting, so he’ll confess a few tales from his past. The first time Harry ever went down on a girl, it was against a tree in a garden and he nearly asphyxiated under all the layers of her gown. A couple of years later, he ended up getting oral from a reverend’s daughter against a tree, too, for the morbid irony and associated religious revenge. And to drive the point home, oral was only the beginning of what she gave him. His first decade as a vampire was definitely his pettiest. 

X = X-Ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

It’s not uncommon knowledge that Harry’s well-endowed. He remembers how insecure he was the first time he had sex— a shocker, he knows; he was insecure?— and how he knew barely anything regarding sizing and how to use his assets accordingly. But it’s been ages since then, and now he definitely knows his way around his own body (let alone his partner’s), and he most certainly knows that he’s above average not only as a person in general, but when it comes to what’s in his trousers, as well. Harry won’t specify inches— he loves how speculation drives others mad— but it was big enough to give Y/N a decent pause the first time she pulled down his pants, and it’s big enough to leave her absolutely fucked every single time, without a single miss. If that’s not credibility at its finest, then he doesn’t know what is.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Harry’s sex drive is insatiable, to say the least. His vampirism combined with his narcissistic tendencies makes the ideal cocktail— cocktail— for the constant fuse that’s always burning under his skin. He’s ready to go at all times; Y/N just has to say the word and he’s pulling on a pair of sweatpants as he grabs his keys, hopping down his complex’s corridor toward the elevator on one foot as he tries to get his last shoe on the other. Lazy morning sex is probably his favorite; he’s come to find it’s when he’s most pent up, usually after a sleepless night of feeling Y/N’s body heat radiating through all of his cold limbs. It also sets a great tone for the rest of the day, and he just loves seeing Y/N wake up to him lying on his side with his temple resting on his fist, his elbow propped against the mattress as he poses the other on his hip in a theatrical diva stance. He’ll smile at her giddily with all his pearly teeth, dimples twitching as his lashes flutter dramatically, dirty intentions written clear all over his face (“Good morning, hon—” “Wanna have sex?” “Harry, it’s ten in the morning.” “Is that a yes? Because it’s not a no.” “I haven’t even brushed my teeth!” “That’s fine, I’m gonna stick my dick in there anyways.”) 

All in all, his libido is insane, and he’s lucky that Y/N’s is up to par or else he would have worked her into an exhaustion-induced coma by now. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Harry just...doesn't. Maybe once every few weeks, but definitely more often now than before he had his girlfriend. Sleeping just comes way easier when he has someone he cares about resting beside him, their inherent warmth thawing the stiffness from his muscles and putting his racing mind at ease. He feels safe enough around Y/N to let his guard down— both literally and metaphorically— and that seems to help with his supernatural insomnia; it sedates that nocturnal hyper-instinct in his brain that demands he be aware at all times, muffling the animalistic part of him that has been manning the reins for the better half of the last two hundred years. He doesn’t need to be so on edge anymore when everything he needs is just an arm-length away. Especially when she’s usually willing to lend her chest as a pillow, and who is he to neglect her wishes.   

[wonderfilworld]

Sunlight - J.P.

James Potter x reader’s morning routine. it’s really just soft morning sex, lol. 

a/n: this is my first time writing smut!

word count: 1.9k

warnings/contains: NSFW!! smut, unprotected sex, cursing. like I said it’s my first time writing smut so if I missed anything please let me know!

Masterlist 

you woke due to sunlight streaming through your bedroom window. the room was silent, save for the snores of the sleeping body next to you. it was pleasantly warm, the newly arrived spring season prompting you to leave your window cracked open. you could hear birds in the distance and the wind that rustled the leaves outside. you lay for a while on your right side, arm under your head as you listened to the world around you with your eyes closed. you planned out your day, what you and your love would do on your day off. 

feeling a hand spread across your back, you smile and roll over on your left side. you get as close to your boyfriend as humanly possible, one leg thrown over his hip and resting your right hand on his chest. james’ right arm goes under you, left arm on top as he hugs you. you bury your head in the crook of his neck as you take a deep breath. he smells like sweat and his faint woody cologne and a smell that is just so him and you smile as you speak, “good morning.”

his arms grip you even tighter, his left hand coming to stroke the hair out of your face. “morning, baby,” he says quietly, placing a kiss on your forehead. he keeps his lips there, pressed loosely against your head as he mimics your deep breath from earlier. his left hand travels down your right arm to your elbow, then back up to cup your cheek. you know what he wants - you always do - and you pick your head up to place your lips on his. 

he sighs into the kiss, and you tilt your head to deepen it. james always gets like this in the mornings: clingy and loving, never wanting to take his hands off you, and you love every minute of it. his hand is now on your waist, squeezing tightly and you listen to his silent command, climbing to lay fully on top of him. you’re both bare, so you can feel how hard he is, pressing against your lower stomach as you lean up to set him directly under your core, already slick just from kissing. sometimes it’s embarrassing how fast he can make you needy, your core throbbing as you await his touch. you roll your hips as his tongue makes its way into your mouth to meet yours. you both moan lightly into each others mouth as your hips roll deeper, harder, into his. 

it’s always slow in the mornings between the two of you; neither of you are morning people so you take it slow. your usual screams and loud moans are just soft ones and whimpers at this hour, sleep still lingering in your systems. your hips quicken ever so slightly as his hand travel from your hips to your thighs, then back up to rest on your ass, kneading the flesh there, urging you to go faster, go harder, against him. his head rolls back on the pillow as he lets out a low groan and you drag your lips along his jaw, then down his neck, getting to the spot right behind his right ear and sucking there. his left hand comes to hold the back of your head, threading his fingers through your hair as you kiss the sensitive parts of his neck, letting your teeth graze there lightly. you know he loves to see the marks you leave on him, and you would be lying if you said you didn’t love leaving them. he sucks in a sharp breath as you bring your lips back to his.

“baby,” he stresses. your hips haven’t stopped moving against his, and you know that if you wanted you could finish you both off like this. but you want more - need more, so you bring your lips down harder against his as his right hand travels between the two of you. his fingers make contact with your pussy that’s already made such a pretty mess on his cock and it has him twitching in anticipation as he runs his fingers through your folds, dipping into you ever-so-slightly to gather the wetness there and bring it up to your clit. you jump slightly, always so sensitive for him - something he never lets you forget. you whimper and he shushes you. “you like that?” he asks. he knows the answer but loves to make you talk, loves to hear how your voice gets higher due to how good he makes you feel. 

“gonna let me fuck you?” he whispers against your lips, breath tickling your face.

“yes,” you whine, hips oscillating in tiny circles, loving the way his fingertips against your clit create a trail of fire that travels up the base of your spine. you couldn’t keep your eyes open, and you know he hates when you shy away from him, but the pleasure was overwhelming, and it was getting difficult to hold yourself up. mewls leave your throat in time with the tight circles james is drawing against your bundle of nerves. 

“I got you, baby, gonna make you feel so good,” he pants, his free hand reaching down to give himself a couple of quick strokes so he can line himself up to your entrance. you take initiative, leaning back and lifting yourself even more so you can sink back down on his cock. you have to go slow, resting both of your hands on his chest while his stroke your sides. he’s patient and you love him for it. 

you whimper as he fills you, you feel so full and it makes you warm and makes your toes curl. you clench around him as you get used to him and he moans quietly. he never wants to start until you tell him you’re ready but his hips thrust up involuntarily, and it knocks the breath out of your lungs. you collapse against his chest and bring your hands to his hair as you attack his lips again. he says something but it’s mumbled against your lips. it sounds like an apology, but you don’t reply, instead opting to tentatively roll your hips, feeling the way his cock nudges the deepest parts of you. it’s insane when you think about it sometimes, how it feels like he’s in your tummy. you groan loudly as your clit rubs against his body. the burning sensation in your spine is back now, you’re fully adjusted to his size, so you pick up the pace, grinding against him. he knows this feels best for you, knows you need the extra stimulation so he aids you, grabbing your hips and pulling and pushing you against him, watching your face as you lean up to once again place your hands on his chest. 

“that’s it, baby, just like that, fuck,” he’s breathing heavily and the low, raspy tone of his voice causes your stomach to flip and your walls to tighten around his cock. “use me, baby,” he groans. 

you let out a loud moan at that, head dropping back on your shoulders as you feel him touch a particularly deep spot inside of you. “feels so good,” you sob. it amazes you that you can even form words, there’s a distracting pull in your lower tummy and you know it won’t be much longer until it snaps. but you know james needs a little more, that extra push to get him there too, so you brace your body on your hands and push yourself up, lifting halfway off his cock before coming back down, relishing in the loud fuck! he lets out. the power you have over him in this moment is intoxicating, and so you do it again and again, until you have a pretty rhythm bouncing on top of him. you know you can’t keep this pace for long and so does he, but he appreciates your commitment to making him feel good. both of his hands come to grab your tits, squeezing the mounds of flesh and running his thumbs over your nipples. the act brings a line of fire straight to your core, where the burning flame has gotten much stronger. you can feel it in your toes, they’re hot and cold at the same time and they curl on their own accord. 

“james,” you whine. he knows what you’re asking for so he abandons your tits as his hands return to your hips, holding you up so he can take over thrusting into you. you fall forward with a loud cry, burying you face in his neck as your moans get louder. “please, please, please,” you beg, mind foggy as you can feel the fire licking against your spine. you know you’re close; you just need that one extra push. 

“close, baby?” james grunts. he can barely formulate a full sentence either and he’s so close to his release he can taste it. “gonna cum all over my cock, huh?” 

you sob even louder as his thrusts go harder, deeper, faster into you. you know he won’t give you what you want until you use your words, so you pick your head up to slot your mouth over his. you only manage a few seconds of sloppy kisses until you’re just panting into each others mouths. “yes,” you answer him, gasping as one of his hands leave your hips to rub tight circles against your clit once again. “yes, yes, yes,” you cry. “i’m gonna cum.”

“shit - baby.” james chokes, his hips stutter and his fingers go incredibly faster against your sensitive bud. he can feel you clenching around him, so tight, and he won’t last much longer. “come on, baby, let me feel you,” he whispers against your lips. 

your moans die out into small gasps as the pull in your tummy snaps and the fire explodes. your mind goes blank and you moan loudly against james’ lips. “fuck,” you’re crying now, tears slipping past your waterline and dripping onto james’ face, your orgasm so intense that you barely recognize james’ plea’s. “can i cum inside you, baby? i’m so fucking close - shit.” of course it’s okay, it’s always okay with you but you appreciate that he always asks, makes you feel important and valued. 

“please cum inside me, want it so bad,” you whimper, your head resuming it’s position in the crook of his neck, your own orgasm still racking through your body. 

james lets out a load groan as his hips stutter once more before dragging your body down against his, keeping you there as he fills you up. his cum is hot inside you and you can feel it begin to slowly leak out as james gives a few weak thrusts in and out of your tired body. 

you’re both breathing heavy, sweat is covering your bodies, and you feel so content. his hands are stroking your back now; you’re still shaking slightly and he knows you like to keep him inside as long as possible. he gives you a couple kisses to your temple before you bring your head up to kiss him properly. you lift yourself off of him, wincing as his cock falls from you. 

“bath?” he asks. you collapse beside him, smiling up at him as he sits up on the bed and looks at you. 

“bath,” you agree, watching as he gets up and makes his way to the bathroom. you hear him turn on the water and you close your eyes once more. 

“get your pretty ass in here!” he yells, and you softly giggle before getting up and joining your lover. 

[plush-rabbit]

Together Forever

Warnings: Yandere, (Super) Minor Character Death, NSFW Word Count: 4.5K A/N: I kept the reader GN so it could be read and enjoyed since I think you wanted it male pronouns last time and I don’t wanna exclude yall. (i’ll try to get better with writing male!reader since I have an aizawa request with male pronouns so yeah)

| Tear Stained Love |

The hallways are empty, glistening floors freshly cleaned as your heels click on the tile followed by more subtle ones that follow you in wake. You talk to a new recruit, your hands waving in front of you in eagerness as you walk them around the building, a bounce in your step as you round the corner and flap your hands in front of your chest as they share your enthusiasm. The recruit is nothing more than another recruit, just a person who has joined the cause of the Paranormal Liberation Front because they saw the value and promise that it held- that it will bring and you’re glad for that, eager and joyous as you touch their shoulder in a way that cannot be read other than encouraging- they’re new, someone who came along and they need all the encouragement that they can get and you’re willing to offer it to them only if it’ll make the transition from hero propaganda to liberation easier on their mind and consciousness. Your hand rests on their shoulder, giving it a soft squeeze and you tell them in a sweet voice to just come to you if they ever need anything- you know how hard it can get if they’re alone and how much a giving hand could mean to someone.

They thank you for it and as they open their mouth a voice breaks through the once empty hallways, suddenly multiple steps crossing and reaching towards you. You raise your head, hand still around the shoulder of the young recruit and your encouraging grin, widen, teeth bared and eyes wide and you can feel your face heat up as Tomura walks towards you, jacket around his shoulders as he barks your name in a gruff voice. No matter how rough, how angry and unpleasant the voice can get, it still fills you with butterflies and you stand at attention, hand slipping from the shoulder and fingertips slipping down until they graze the beginning parts of the bicep, cotton soft against you. He calls your name and stalks towards you as you wait patiently for him.

“Tomura!” You cry, standing on the tips of your toes before bouncing back on your heels. You raise your arms as he stands in front of you, a silent ask for a hug and behind Father, his eye narrows. “Have you met-”

You yelp as your words are cut off, a hand wrapped around your wrist, nails pressing into your skin until they pull and drag against you as the hand pulls you into the chest of the owner. Your eyes are wide and you glance up at Tomura, smiling and accepting the touch given to you. “Who is this?” His hand lets go of your wrist and comes to the small of your back and you hum in content, nuzzling your face into his chest.

“A new recruit,” you mumble, eyes closing as your arms wrap around him. “They just joined so I was giving them a tour.”

“Don’t we already have someone to do that- someone that isn’t you?” You blink and there’s an odd tugging in your stomach, gripping and making you feel a bit ill. You tilt your head and he stares at the recruit instead of you. Your lips pull down into a frown.

“No.” Your eyes water and you want him to look at you. Your hands pull against his jacket, fisting the once crisp fabric into your palms. “Is there a problem with me giving a tour?” Your chest feels heavy and you blink rapidly. “I don’t have to do it again if you-”

“Are you done with the tour?” He says the word as if it leaves a bitter taste against his tongue. His arm around you, bunches your own shirt and you’re left blinking in confusion and pain, hiding your face back into his chest.

“Yes,” you mumble, nodding your head against him, your hands twisting at the dark fabric that he wears. “We just finished.”

His hands tighten around you, squeezing and coiling around your frame leaving you breathless. “Good.” His reply is curt and offers no further chance to continue the conversation. Your cheek is pressed against his chest, feeling as his heart races, pumping and pounding. With a slight turn, your lips press against him, a small, loving peck that is placed above his heart.

-

His hands, once clean and sacred, are covered in ash when you see him again. He makes no motion to hide it. Makes a show of grabbing Father and placing him down, revealing the gleeful, wicked grin across his face, eyes that shine with a malicious tint as he gives you a nod to follow him to the bathroom. Obedient as always, you follow. The water runs, gushes and fills the room, steady until it is interrupted by a pair of hands and you watch as the pristine sink is darkened with ash, ash that falls down to the drain and in minutes only faint, light gray trail marks show the filth that coated the sink.

“Was someone mean?” You ask, grabbing at a towel and drying his hands and stroking at the fingers, careful to not pull too tight at the skin. “Are you all right?”

“Do you want to know who it was?” His question is innocent enough. His tone, says otherwise, filled to the brim with giddiness as his foot taps excitedly. “Well?” You nod, putting the towel down on the counter in a sad clump, going to hold his hands in yours. “It was that recruit you were showing around earlier.” Your eyes go wide and you look up at him, mouth parted and he can only frown at your expression. He scoffs and turns around, exiting the bathroom, and going into the room where he stands at the edge of the bed. “You should have seen the look on their face.” He faces you, eyes narrowed and grin returned, stretched across his face. “They begged for help as the decay crept up their body. But fuck-” he laughs and it’s humorless- “they wouldn’t stop crying until I wrapped my hands around their neck and held, feeling them choke and gasp and slowly, they decayed.” His eyes meet yours, pink flashes and swipes at his lips. “I’m almost sad you weren’t there.”

“You killed them?” You ask, eyes wide until they narrow and your tone turns harsh. “Why the hell would you do that?” His laugh is mocking, high pitched and for once, it irritates you. “Tomura!” You snap, fists balling at your sides. “They had a good quirk- they were going to be useful to the cause- to your cause! Why the hell-” you press your palms together in front of your chest and take a deep breath with closed eyes, shoulders raised and pulled close to you- ���What could they have possibly done to you?”

His upper lip curling into a sneer, breaking the scar that decorates his lip. His eyes are harsh on your for a moment, the space between his brow bone furrows and wrinkles. And then, he softens, lips meeting together in a thin line and gaze softening. “They were getting too close to you.”

You blink. Your shoulders lowering and hands falling to your sides. “I’m sorry?”

He bares his teeth, gritted together in a grimace and he turns his back to you, coat swaying in the movement and you watch the back of his neck, glimpses of skin revealed until his silvery hair settles. “For the love of-” he groans and shakes his head- “They- You- Whoever the fuck it was, was getting too close to you.”

“They just joined, Tomura! They couldn’t have gotten close. I-” you point your index at yourself even if he cannot see it- “could not have gotten close.”

“You touched their arm!” He turns around and you recoil in shock. He takes a deep breath, face flushed and his arm raises, fingers curling over the side of his cheek. “I saw you.”

You blink and your mind races to find the memory that happened earlier today. Had that been the reason why he pulled you close to him? Was he stare directed at the recruit in anger and not interest? There’s a pause in the room, still and undisturbed as he waits for you to respond. You stare at the hand that touched the recruit’s shoulder. Your hand is empty, no phantom touch of their lingers and as much as you want to pout and shout at the loss of the person, you can’t seem to find the anger or sadness that lingered. You swallow and look up at him, hand curling into a soft fist.

“Tomura,” you whisper, “it was a shoulder touch. They just needed encouragement.” You can’t believe that you hurt him like this. That he could have thought that you would have left him. Your declarations of love have never been false or wavering. They were always true and they always will be. You take a step closer to him and reach out with the hand that touched the deceased. He moves away from you and your eyes water at the rejection. “I love you,” your voice cracks, bottom lip trembling with a hiccup. “Do you think so little of me to leave you?”

He’s silent and he stares at your hand that still hands in mid air that is reached out towards him and with quick movements, he grabs at your hand and pulls you close to him only to turn around and let your fall back onto the bed. You yelp in shock, arms going above your head in a small bend and you watch as he lowers himself onto you. His hand coming to grip at your face, pressing his lips against yours and pushing his tongue past your lips without warning. The pink muscle strokes at your tongue while his hands keeps a firm hold on you, his body pressing deeper against you as a hand travels down, ring and little finger traveling down in a spider walk until they dip under your shirt, the scarring on his hand tickles at your tummy until the reach your chest.

He presses himself closer to you, his thickness hard against your sex, boydy pressing down as his ring and little finger roll over the soft bud. Your eyes pinch close and you moan under him in appreciation, hands suddenly coming to life as you travel up and grip the sides of his face, breathing heavily against him. Your hand slides, curving and pressing against his ear until they rest on the back of his head, fisting his hair in your palm, nails dull against his scalp.

He’s heavy above you, pressing his entire weight onto you, tongue still pressed and deep inside of your mouth as it circles around running against the roof of your mouth and down the flat of your tongue, humming as your nipple grows pert under his attention. His hand holds your face tightly, sharp nails pressing into your skin, clean and sharp as they threaten to break the soft skin and expose your pink and blood. His hand dances over to the other breast that has already pebbled with the anticipation of attention. You moan into his mouth, arching your back to further press into his palm. Your sex is hot against him, throbbing and slick slipping past your slit, and it stains. You’re sure that you can handle him, to feel him deep inside of you- raw and unprotected, the prep unnecessary as long as the promise of satisfaction and having him so close and near and willing remains. You buck your hips against him, earning a groan from him, hips moving against yours in a rapid hump. His lips pull away from you, teeth snagging at your bottom lip and pulling it up in a stretch that is almost more painful than pleasurable.

You whine and when he lets go, your tongue rolls over the inside indents, sucking in your bottom lip and staring up at him with glazed over eyes. Your hands slip off his face, leaving him in shivers as your fingertips brush against his scarring. His hand rests flat against your chest, pebbled bud poking into his palm as his member remains against your sex.

“Do you love me?” He asks, resting his forehead against yours, snowy hair cascading down into a curtain.

“Yes,” your voice cracks and you want him to kiss you again. “I love you. I love you so much, it hurts,” you croak out, eyes half lidded to stare at his lips that are etched with pale lines and shine with shared spit. “Tomura,” you whine, pressing your hips against him in rapid rises and falls, “please-” your legs kick out and brush against his calf- “kiss me again- please!” Your voice is high pitched, breathy and full of need, words blubbering past your lips as you try to capture him another kiss.

“You won’t leave me?” His voice is soft, whispered words that can hardly be made out by your incessant pleading. “You’ll stay by my side?” He moves his head to hide into the curve of your neck, breath hot against your neck, lips tenderly brushing against the ticklish skin. “You won’t be alone with anyone else?” You can feel his teeth against your skin, the tip of his tongue moving slowly through the small gap between his teeth.

“I love you,” you repeat. “I wouldn’t ever leave you. Whatever you want Tomura- I’ll be with you forever and ever.” Tears pool in your eyes, your hips lowering into a small stutter until they rest on the bed. You tap your head against him. “I’m yours-” you hiccup and nuzzle the side of your head against his- “forever and ever.”

He’s silent, breath steady and slow, head rested against your neck, his nose nuzzling and poking into you, and your heart thumps, racing and beating, ruining the silence that he has created. Hands are shaky as they move into a clawed position, fingers bent and crooked, stiff as they rest against the back of his coat, pulling at the fabric, feeling it stretch under your hands, straining, pulled taut as you repeat your love for him in a breathless, broken voice, your hips moving against his, slick moving past your slit, and making you sticky. Your face burns, rising from your chest in a darkened flush that creeps to your face, burning at your cheeks and the shell of your ears, tears burning in shame and deep desire, you whine and tug the jacket off, his arms slipping past the sleeves and hands resting at your hips. You press your heel onto the floor, tears slipping past and leaving a searing trail as they slide down your face. You mewl, his name comes out in a shaky whisper, body stuttering at the pathetic display that is you humping against him as he remains still, feeling a hot pool form in your belly.

His breath grows ragged, deep huffs and puffs that fan across you, moistening your skin and leaving your aching, your movements against him growing sloppy and rushed. “Tomura,” you breathe, arching your chest into his, your nipples poking through the fabric, “I love you.”

He leaves you, his self peels away from your body, and you whine when he stands in between your legs, your hands fallen onto your lap and you palm yourself, mewling out his name in short gasps. You watch as the shirt is removed, thrown onto the floor without care and soon his other other clothing falls to join the piece of fabric, leaving him bare in between your separated legs.

Tears fall from your face, curving over and spilling onto him, his own eyes wide and glassy as your hand curls around his chest, palming at the naked breast. “Do you know why I love you?” You ask in a shaky voice, your lips dry and your tongue peeks out to wet them. “Do you?”

He shakes his head “no” in response. “No,” he whispers a moment after, voice breathless and light. “No, I don’t.”

You nod and swallow, the thickness in your throat constricting and too much for you as tears pool over and decorate both of your faces. He pays no mind to the tears above you, only watching you with a hazy look, heavy blush decorating his face and chest rising and dipping. “Before I joined the League, I was nothing,” you whisper harshly. “But then you-” you emphasize the word and kiss at his nose- “you showed me kindness. You offered me the hand no one else would have.” Tears fall and you kiss them away on his cheeks, not wanting him to be sullied by your mess. “Tomura, you gave me a purpose.” You ache, feeling yourself throb as drool begins to pool in your mouth. “You gave me life and I’d return it tenfold if I could- I’d kill myself if it would make you happy. I’d do whatever you wanted.” You lips quirk upwards, the corner of your lips tugging, the smile on your face growing into a painful stretch. “And I know you love me. You kissed me Tomura. You love me.” Your voice cracks, breaking at his name and your breath a short gasp as you sit above him, pulling him into a deep kiss, where you press yourself close against him, lips bruising against his. “You love me,” you repeat, voice shaky against his lips.

“I do,” he confirms, returning your kiss, tongue lapping at your bottom lip. “I love you. I’d kill anyone who would try to take you away from me.” His voice is stern, unwavering as he confesses, grabbing you by the arms and pressing his nails into your skin.

Your laugh is breathless, tears obscuring your vision, letting your hands roam at his chest. He nods, covering his hand over yours, murmuring a plea against your lips.

Your lips pepper against his skin, kissing and lapping at the marks that adorn him. You rub your nose against him in soft bunny kisses, kissing him and loving him entirely, trailing down, lips leaving him in shivers until your mouth covers a soft, pink nipple, pulling it into your mouth, tongue flat against it as the muscle pushes it around. Your cheeks hollow, a hand trailing up his chest, fingers ghosting above his collarbone, tracing at the scars that are faint against his skin and your index and middle finger creep past his chin, touch lightly against his lips and slip past them, entering his mouth. Your fingers are flat against his tongue and without words being said, he sucks on your fingers.

His cheeks hollow, the sponginess of the inside of his cheeks are soft against you, rubbing and stroking the appendage that have invaded his mouth, as his tongue circles and licks rapidly on the underside of them. He sucks harsher of your fingers, urging for you to go deeper into him, moanin around you, a hand coming to the back of your head as you suck on his chest, your free hand coming toplay with the neglected breast, toying with the nipple that blushes into a deep shade of red with a simple pinch.

“Lower,” he gasps, hips rising. “Lower, please.” He whines under the touch, stiffening under you, legs spreading and swirling around to find friction.

“I know what I’m doing,” you whisper hotly against him. You pull away, pecking at his pebbled nipple. It’s hard underneath you, and you blow cool air, chuckling as his body gives a shudder. He whines under you, whispering your name in a hoarse whisper, gasping and croaking as you pepper kisses across his chest until you reach the dry breast that blushes red with the touch of your fingers. You pepper kisses against him, letting drool dribble out of your mouth until it pools onto him, sliding down his chest in soft curves. Your tongue runs flat against his chest, kissing against him, leaving soft, red marks that circle and dot against his chest, He mewls under your touch, sighing out your name when you take his nipple in your mouth, suckling on his teat, moaning against him.

You pull away from him and rest your chin against his chest, eyes half lidded and a kitten-like grin on your face. Your hand pulls out of his mouth, coated in his spit and when you pull your fingers apart, they attach with thin strings that break and snap down the side of your fingers. Your hand crawls down and touches at his member. He gasps under you, tongue lapping at his lips. His head presses down on the mattress, body inching up on the bed, body heavy and warm as your hand is wrapped around his girth.

“You’re always such a mess when I suck on your pretty tits, you know?” Your nose brushes against the pert nipple. “When I sucked on them a while ago,” you peck at the areola, circling your tongue around him, “you creamed yourself. Heh,” you chuckle half-heartedly, “I didn’t even have to touch you pretty, pink cock to make you cream. To be honest, I’m almost saddened that you didn’t this time- makes me feel a bit less,” you whisper against him, pecking at his chest.

“Fuck,” he huffs, “I’m close if that helps.” His eyes are filled with tears, his hips thrusting upwards, cock sliding against the side of your thigh. “Just- please,” his hands tap against you, stroking lightly at your hair- “suck my cock- please.”

You lower yourself until your mouth is aligned above his leaking cock that blushes red. “I’ve never sucked you off before,” you confess in a whisper. “I- It always felt too intimate. I always wanted you to be awake for it.”

Your breath is hot, fanning and causing him to twitch against you. He aches and leaks, thin, watery pre-ejaculate that slides down his member and disappears into your palm. You throb, aching along with him and there’s a desperate want to slide yourself on him, to have him stretch and mold against your walls, but when you look at his flushed face, a bright red with sweat beading down the side of his face, tongue out and his hands pawing at his chest, your own needs can wait. You kiss against his tip, lips gleaming with his essence, and with a deep breath, you wrap your mouth around him.

He’s hot- burning against your tongue, the thin, watery seed sliding down your throat, burning as it fills your tummy. Your tongue rolls around him, slipping past the cockhead and lapping at the slit, suckliing more of his arousal. Teeth graze at a vein, pulling and leaving a ghost trace against it and he moans in response, arching his back and jerking his leg. Tomura calls your name, gasping for breath and jerking his hips, the tip of his shaft hitting the back of your throat when it constricts and pulses around him, gagging filling the room as your eyes water. Eyes roll to the back of your head, forcing yourself to lower onto him, gagging and choking, spittle dribbling out and coating your chin. You coo and your hands lower to play and massage at his testicles, rubbing the sac around in your palms, thumbs pressing down underneath in a desperate attempt to distract you from the tears that spill past your eyes as Tomura fucks your mouth, hips jerking and stuttering, your mouth thick and heavy with his scent and taste. Drool dribbles out, sliding and coating you in a sticky substance while his cock twitches inside of you, warm and pulsating, leaving with his own substance.

He grows frantic under you, your name splintered, high and needy, low and growl when your throat tightens around him, tongue rubbing on the underside of him. His chest blooms in red lines that drag across, nipples thick and puffy with the abuse he gave himself, twisted and blooming dark as he whines, palming over himself, hissing at the somewhat gentler action. His legs are stiff, hips raised and kept above the bed as you take him in your mouth. He stays steady, too uncertain and close to keep himself from grabbing the back of your head and ramming himself down your throat until he spills with his seed.

“I’m close- fuck,” he curses, hands cupping his breasts, with nails making indents that bloom under the abuse.

Your words are muffled, choked and teary, tears that slide down and coat him and you in a salty substance that is not his. “I love you, Tomura.” You cry on him, keeping yourself down his throat, nose pressed against his base.

The words sent vibrations to him- the final push he needed. His face burns, hips straining and the heat in his tummy pushing down and making him release, spilling down your seed as his body stiffens and as the initial part if his release bleeds into the rest, he falls back to the bed, hands slipping off his chest and falling onto the mattress with a dull thump.

His seed is hot, filling your mouth and with his length still inside, it bubbles past the limited space, oozing past the corner of your lips and with a a frantic gasp, you release him from your mouth, his softening member meeting his thigh, while your hand scoops what little has slide down your chin and pushes it inside of your mouth. It’s bitter as it goes down, acidic and salty and you scrunch your face, nose bunching together but when you stare down at him, hair disheveled, a coquette lush that covers his face and loose smile, you beam. You dip your head and grab at his soft member, dragging your tongue over the skin, swirling and curling, scooping whatever you can back into your mouth, humming as your belly fills.

You pull away, wiping your mouth with the back of your hand and with open arms, you nestle into his side, peppering his chest with kisses that flutter and send tingles down his skin. His arms are strong, coming to hold you, pressing yourself against him, lips pursed as they try to touch the once pale skin.

“I love you,” he whispers. His lips meet the tops of your head and your eyes are wide, immediately filling with tears. “I’m never letting anyone take you away from me,” he promises, arms tightening their hold on you with nails that drag dully across your bare skin. “I’ll kill them before they get the chance,” he breathes out with a heavy sigh.

Tears spring in your eyes, at his declaration, your head pressing deeper against him, a hand rubbing soft circles around his warm chest and you nod, whispering the words back to him, soft and light, heavy with adoration and clear as crystal. “I love you too, Tomura,” you croon, “forever and always.”

[babysizedfics]

9!!

9. romans discovers logan has a ticklish back. revenge is sweet

By now you all know the drill. I get a headcanon request. I have no self-control. It becomes another oneshot. Same old, same old.

NOTE: Set the morning after Roman asks Logan to read to him and he gets to spend the night in Mommy’s room!

oOo

Title: Vroom on the Bed 

Summary: Roman discovers his Mommy has a ticklish back. Revenge is sweet.

Word count: 2,500

Content warning: Swearing

Also on AO3!

oOo

The red toy car zoomed off a thick fold in the bedsheets. Roman held it in mid-air, making it do several flips before dropping it back to the mattress with a muffled thump.

‘That was terrible!’ he made his teddy bear, Aladdin, whisper.

‘What?’ he gasped back, offended. ‘My driver did the best he could considering -’

A loud snore cut him off. He hunched his shoulders and sucked his lips in a tight line. Rolling on his tummy a little, he got a glimpse of the figure that lay on the very edge of the mattress, since Roman was starfished out across most of it. Logan was, thankfully, still asleep.

‘Considering our limitations,�� Roman finished under his breath, nodding over to his Mom pointedly then sending a glare to Aladdin.

The teddy looked back with a beady, dead stare.

A quiet groan rumbled in the back of Roman’s throat. ‘I know that look. I know you wanna play in my room, but I wanna stay with Mommy!’ He shook Aladdin slightly to get his point across.

The toy was limp in his hands. A wave of disillusionment swept over Roman, all too aware of how childish he was being. ‘Stop being such a baby,’ he mumbled, unsure whether it was him or Aladdin speaking anymore.

Though he usually had a lot of fun being an independent kid and playing on his own, Roman was struggling to stay in his littlespace without one of his caregivers giving him attention. He really wanted to be extra little this morning - it just felt right after spending the night in Mom’s bed - but he hardly ever acted this young. He was out of practice and it was tricky to stay in character without Daddy calling him nice nicknames and without Mommy asking him lots of questions.

Mom really liked sleeping, though, and Roman knew no-one was allowed to wake him up in the mornings. So he had snuck back to his room for his cars and came straight back, ready to entertain himself! But he had been playing with the toys for what must have been hours now (later he would realise it was more akin to five minutes), and his head was starting to feel noisy and stuffy and his hands were jiggly. He was bored.

Being bored was awful. It hurt his head and made Roman’s legs itch, so he thought maybe Mom wouldn’t mind if he woke him up early just this once. Besides, he really wanted his Mom to play cars too. Or maybe he just wanted his Mom to watch… Actually, he really just wanted his Mom.

‘Mom?’ Roman whispered, sitting up on the mattress criss-cross-applesauce. ‘Mommy,’ he called, bouncing on the mattress slightly, ‘wakey, wakey.’ He had tried not to speak too loud but it came out a bit more booming than he had hoped. Mom shuffled on the bed but didn’t wake up. Roman pouted. ‘Mommyyyy,’ he whined, shaking Logan’s arm with both hands.

A sharp gasp echoed in the space between them. Mom’s face suddenly rose, his cheek flushed with crease marks from being pressed against the pillow all morning. ‘Hmph?’

‘Mommy, mommy, mommy!’ Roman rambled excitedly. Now his Mom could give him attention!

‘Hoosuh?’ Logan mumbled, face pinching and body swaying slightly as he propped himself up on his elbows. ‘Kay s’art?’

Roman giggled, ‘What?’ Mom never made a lot of sense when he first woke up.

‘Who’s hurt?’ Logan tried again, his voice gruff and mumbled, but at least coherent now. ‘Are you ‘kay, sweetheart?’

The nickname already made Roman feel a lot happier and soothed the fizzles in his fingertips a bit. He felt littler again. ‘No, I’m just really, really bored!’

Logan blinked blearily at Roman, his eyes barely open past a tired squint. Then he collapsed straight back onto his front with a sharp sigh. ‘Inabit,’ he mumbled into his pillow.

‘Mommy, no,’ Roman whined, watching as Logan’s body instantly sunk back into the mattress. Within mere seconds his shoulders were rising and falling in deep, steady breaths. A noise of indignance wormed its way from Roman’s lips. Mom was asleep already?!

Roman crossed his arms tightly against his chest and pushed his lip out in a pout that would have definitely gotten Daddy to dote on him (if he was there to see it, that is). Mom was being mean. For a few seconds, he sulked, watching the curves of Logan’s back and shoulders and ribs. Then inspiration struck. Just because Mommy didn’t want to play with Roman, it didn’t necessarily mean Roman couldn’t play with Mommy. Logan’s arms and back were way better ramps than the bedsheets!

He smiled and bit the tip of his tongue as he quickly grabbed his toys. Hugging Aladdin to his chest, he scooched over on the bed, tentatively settling by his Mom’s side. First, he balanced the red car on the back of Logan’s shoulder. As soon as he pulled his hand away, though, Mom took a deep breath in his sleep and it made the car move. Roman’s heart dropped - until he saw that the movement made the car roll all the way down Mom’s arm to his hand. It didn’t even tumble off!

Roman smiled brightly and carefully picked the car up again, placing it in exactly the same spot. The same thing happened again, the car rolling down Logan’s arm without a hitch and landing softly by his hand on the bed. Roman giggled and grabbed the toy again.

‘Ingenius,’ he said in Aladdin’s voice, then hugged the teddy tighter.

‘That’s ‘cause I’m a clever boy,’ Roman bragged quietly, setting the car on a different spot on Mom’s shoulder this time. ‘Mommy always says so!’

‘Yes, I do,’ Mommy rumbled into his pillow.

It startled Roman and he gasped, jumping a bit in his seat. The car wheels squeaked quietly as they rolled again - this time down Logan’s back.

Mom started chuckling and reached behind himself to swipe the toy car off from his hip. ‘What are you doing, little prince?’ he asked, pushing the toy back into Roman’s hand.

‘Sorry,’ Roman said, but he was smiling again. Mommy had laughed and that always meant he was in a good mood and would play with Roman!

Dark blue eyes blinked open and Mom smiled at him softly. It made Roman feel giddy, and he scrunched and unscrunched his toes in the fluffy socks that “Santa” had got him. ‘You don’t need to be sorry, Roman.’ Mom dropped his cheek back to the pillow, but he was still awake and happy. ‘Do you want to tell me what you’re playing?’

‘Yeah!’ Roman immediately yelled, squeezing the car in his hand and bouncing a bit on his butt. ‘There’s a racecar flipping coolness contest and Aladdin is a really bossy judge and he’s really hard to impress!’

‘Oh my, that sounds quite stressful,’ Logan hummed.

‘Yeah, but not for me ‘cause I’m the best racecar driver ever and -’ Mom’s eyes were shut again. Roman glared at him. ‘Mom, are you gonna fall asleep again?’

‘Hmm,’ Logan hummed. ‘Probably.’

Well, Roman supposed he had to hand it to Mom for being honest… Except no, he didn’t!

‘You’re not allowed to sleep, you’re playing too!’

‘Oh, I didn’t realise you were in charge of your Mom now, little prince,’ Mom said. It was kind of like being told off, but also kind of like Mom was sharing a joke with him. Sarcasm! Roman liked when Mom made big kid jokes with him. ‘What is my role in this game, anyway?’

‘You’re the racetrack,’ Roman proclaimed, smiling and setting the car on the back of Mom’s neck this time. His spine looked like a cool ramp to try next. He made Aladdin count down from three.

‘Oh, yes -’ Roman pushed the car down as Logan spoke, ‘- of cour-ha-horse!’ Mom’s mumble turned into a huffy kind of yelp.

‘Did it hurt?!’ Roman snatched the car away from Mom’s back, nervous that he would be in trouble.

‘Don’t worry, little one,’ Mom said calmly. His voice was back to normal. His eyes were a bit wider though. ‘It just itched a little, that’s all.’

That was weird. ‘Oh, okay.’ Roman shrugged and immediately started rolling the car over the ramp again.

Then Mommy’s whole body twitched and he started chuckling into his arm.

‘What?’ Roman asked, frowning a little. Was Mom laughing at him?

‘No, nothing,’ Logan assured, kind of breathless. ‘Maybe you shou-hould use the - the pillows as a racetrack instead.’

‘No, those are the spectators! The supportive friends! The fans!’ At the reminder that the fans were watching, Roman made the car do a cool skid to impress the imaginary onlookers.

There was a deep snort and the racetrack quivered under Roman’s car. Roman’s lips pulled up into a smile. Mommy was laughing! It was hard not to join in. ‘Mom, c’mon!’ he laughed. ‘What’s so funny?’ It was no fun if he wasn’t in on the joke too.

Logan was shaking his head, but his shoulders rocked with silent laughter still. It made the entire atmosphere of the room feel light and happy and it made Roman excited! He giggled and his whole body felt bubbly, especially his hands. Daddy called them happy hands. Roman rolled the car back and forth really fast on Mommy’s back, making the wheels squeak loads. Wait…

‘Ro-Ro-ho-man!’

It was Mom who was squeaking!

Roman looked down at the racecar rolling across Logan’s ribs, then back at the way Mom had buried his head into the pillow. Then he smirked.

‘Hello, is Logan ticklish?’ Roman teased in his usual baritone, completely grown-up all of a sudden. Despite not being little, he continued playing with the toy car.

The wild eyes that fixed on him as Logan snapped his head around were hilarious to behold.

‘No, ge-he-het little again! Little pri-ha-ha-ha!’ Logan broke down into deeper guffaws as Roman’s spare hand joined the car in skittering over his spine.

‘Maybe Karma isn’t such a bitch after all!’ Roman cried triumphantly, throwing his knee on top of Logan’s lower back to stop him from wriggling around so much. Logan may have had the height advantage, but Roman did fifty squats a day. They both knew Logan wouldn’t be able to shake off Roman’s leg.

‘Wa-ha-tch your mouth, li-little -’ Another snort of laughter cut Logan’s threat short.

‘Too bad you didn’t watch your back, huh, Specs?’ Roman laughed, readjusting the angle of his leg so he could reach Logan’s hip to see if that was ticklish too.

Logan literally tittered. This was just perfect.

Sure, Roman might have been a bit overly-enthusiastic, but he thought it was perfectly justified. This was payback! It wasn’t very often that Logan tickled him, but when he did he was utterly merciless. Patton had had to physically stop him a couple of times because Roman was so out of breath from cackling and wheezing!

Roman’s teeth bared in a sadistic grin as he heard Logan gasp for breath between laughter. What goes around comes around, and so on and so forth.

Then within a fraction of a second, long fingers wrapped firmly around his foot. It was at that moment Roman knew he had made a mistake. He threw the toy car across the room as if that would prove his innocence.

‘O-ho-kay, little one, you asked for this,’ Logan breathed, interspersed with distant chuckles. The warmth of Roman’s sock was swiftly pulled off and somehow just the cold air of the room was enough to make his toes tingle.

‘Mommy, I’m hungry,’ Roman hurriedly whined with what he hoped was an adorable pout. It was the most angelically innocent, childish voice he could possibly muster. He threw himself down onto the bed beside Logan.

But there was suddenly a warm, vice-like grip on his ankle and his lips started trembling with the effort not to smile in anticipation. ‘Can we pretty please go have breakfast?’ he asked a bit shakily, looking up to his Mom with wide eyes.

Logan laughed louder than he had all morning. ‘Nope, that face won’t work on me, little prince. I’m not your Dad.’ Surprisingly, his fingers actually loosened around Roman’s ankle.

For all of half a second, Roman thought he was being given the benefit of the doubt. That is until there was a light fluttering on the inside of his ankle and he fell into a stream of constant giggling. He kicked out but it did nothing to dislodge Mom’s hold and suddenly Mom’s free arm was pulling Roman into his chest. The fingers on his foot switched between fluttering over Roman’s ankle and scratching his heel and pinching his toes.

‘Mo-ho-mmy!’ Roman squealed, wriggling in his Mom’s firm embrace.

‘Whatever’s the matter, sweetheart?’ Logan asked very seriously, gently swirling a fingernail over the tip of Roman’s big toe.

Roman bucked off the mattress and positively cackled.

Logan was quick to just hug him tighter and chuckle, ‘I thought you wanted to play with Mommy.’ The arm that was keeping Roman secure in Logan’s hold curved and suddenly there were wiggling fingertips under his arm too. Roman screamed joyously, his cheeks aching so much they felt like they would cramp. ‘Don’t you want to play, Roman?’

It was almost impossible to think through the sounds of his own hysterical laughter, but Roman did his best. He did want to play with Mommy, but this wasn’t exactly what he had had in mind. Then again, if he said no, would Mommy never play with him again? It was a trick question!

‘Da-ha-ha-ddy, help!’ Roman cried out instead, feeling like there were a million butterflies chasing each other through his body. Honestly, he never wanted to stop smiling so much.

‘No, this is Mommy’s time with the little prince,’ Logan insisted, letting up in his ticklish attack enough so that Roman could splutter and gasp in some much-needed oxygen. Though he still giggled and squirmed as Logan’s fingers drew little spirals over the sole of his foot and the very edge of his armpit.

‘Besides,’ Logan said, pausing for dramatic effect. Roman giggled and looked up at his Mommy through tears of laughter. Mom’s cheeks were a bit pink and his lips were pulled into a wide smile and his eyes were sparkling with a mixture of mirth and mischievousness. It was quite possibly the happiest look he had ever directed at Roman. ‘We haven’t even finished our game yet!’

The tickling picked back up threefold. Roman writhed and howled and snorted and squeaked. But not a single protest fell from his lips because maybe this game wasn’t so bad after all. It wasn’t his game, but it was still a lot of fun. As long as Roman was with his Mommy, he was happy!

oOo

Reblogs and likes are greatly appreciated!

[softmothprince]

more bird man.

----------------------------

Keigo is hiding something, she can tell by the way he is grinning at her with both hands behind his back like an innocent school boy waiting for the teacher to notice him. His honey gaze is sweet, yet holding a darker tint. She stares at him for a minute, before sighing and turning away from her messy desk.

“Alright, you got me, what do you have?” She asks, leaning back in her chair with her arms crossed.

He perks up with a happy chirp, eagerly walking closer with a pep in his step while pulling a little velvet bag from the pocket of his hoodie. He nudges her arm so that she stands up and plops into the rolling chair, pulling her back into his lap after. Resting his chin on her shoulder, he slowly pulls something out of the tiny bag.

He dangles it in front of her eyes, seeing that little intriguing glint appear. She takes it from him, rolling the velvety feeling toy between her fingers and tilts her head. Keigo continues to nuzzle the side of her head, small chirps ticking his lips as he waits for it to click. And sure enough, he can tell when it does.

Her breath hitches, cheeks turning red, along with shifting in his lap. He traces shapes over her thigh with his fingertips, leaning into her ear.

“If you can wear this all day without cumming, I will be at your command for the next few days.” He explains as she looks over the toy again, locking his hands together in her lap.

“And if I lose?” She asks, glancing out of the corner of her eye. “What do you get?”

“Now that would be spoiling the fun~”

The deadpanned look she gives him makes him chuckle.

“You say that as if you’ve already won, birdbrain.”

He makes a wounded sound, placing a hand on his chest. “You wound me, baby bird!”

~skip~

It’s only been two hours and already she can feel the inside of her panties and down her thighs are wet with sweat and slick. She noticed how Keigo would sometimes walk a few paces back so there was a small bit of distance between them, and then suddenly crank the vibration rapidly.

A few times she stopped and had to lean against a wall or stop at one of the seating areas. Thankfully, the mall was almost empty and she’s managed to avoid people asking if she was alright. After walking for another ten minutes, she realized that he was almost… herding her somewhere.

When they reach a nearly secluded area of the mall, he suddenly grabs and yanks her inside of a single person bathroom. The door slams shut behind the and he locks it swiftly before cranking the vibration that makes her actually cry out and knees buckle under her.

“ACK! Pl-plea-ASE!”

He lowers the hertz and squats in front of her, hooking his finger under her chin to tilt it up and stares into her glassy eyes. They flutter and pinch, body trembling as she feels his gentle touch.

“You want to cum, babybird? You know what will happen if you do.” Keigo purrs, leaning closer to press a teasing kiss to the corner of her lips.

She grunts, jerking away from him and tries to stand- only to suddenly be shoved back against the bathroom wall. Her legs are shoved apart, bottoms being yanked down to expose her sopping wet cunt. Keigo’s pupils expand when her smell fills his nose and he nuzzles against her v-line, exhaling slowly over the glistening flesh.

“Fuck, you smell so good.” He mutters, verging onto a growl, as he slowly grabs the dangling bit for the toy and pulls it ever so gently. “New challenge: you keep from cumming right now, you win.” He finally growls, covering the sticky wetness with his mouth.

He licks and suckles on her clit, running his right hand comfortably up and down her leg that was tossed over his shoulder and his other hooked around her ankle- where her leggings and panties pooled. She covers her mouth with the fabric of her hoodie (definitely Keigo’s at one point), muffling the high pitched moans and keens.

Face flushing deeper whenever one noise is too loud, she squeezes her eyes shut so as not to see the burning honey gaze below them and the mess over his face. Even after being with the pro-hero for a while and having gotten used to his high sex drive, his babybird was still so shy and cute.

Keigo rakes his eyes along her heaving stomach and barely covered breasts, finding her face covered and eyes shut. He growls into her cunt, tongue diving deep into her hole and the bridge of his nose rubbing her clit. The vibrations cause her hands to shoot down from her mouth, tangling into his hair and messing up the blonde strands.

"Kei… go…" She pants, legs trembling as she struggles to keep standing.

He pulls away briefly, moving the hand that held her leg up to rub on her clit. He keeps the pace slow and teasing, wanting to drive her slowly insane from pleasure.

"Are you going to cum from just my tongue, baby bird? My little slut?" He grins, a canine dipping into his bottom lip. “You gonna let me win?”

A small, almost delirious giggle bubbles from her lips. She tugs at his hair, tilting his head back slightly to peer at him with a shaky smirk and say: “You wish, daddy.”

Another deep, guttural growl erupts from his chest and echoes around them. He tosses her other leg up and over his shoulder, now being the only thing keeping her against the wall and dives back in. She yelps and cries out, voice cracking. Keigo is feral, growling and moaning into her cunt as his hand goes down and runs over his clothed cock.

He undoes his belt and slides a hand in, stroking his dick in time with his tongue. Her nails scrape at his scalp, head knocking back against the wall and muffled howls of pleasure pouring out of her mouth as she quickly shoves the material of her hoodie back into her mouth.

“Better be quiet, wouldn’t want our fun to end too quickly would we?” He laughs when she kicks her heel into his back in reply. 

Even when secluded in a bathroom towards the back of the mall where no one frequented, the miniscule fear of being caught still hung over her head. Though, that thought is swiftly driven away when long fingers prob at her pussy, two of them pushing in easily. She tries to push him back, to stop the sudden stimulation-

“Just let go, baby bird. You know I won’t stop until you’re fucking crying.” He murmurs, moaning when her nails sink into the skin behind his ear and pulls at his hair. “Cum for me so I can shove my cock into your cunt and fill it till you’re so fucking full.”

The image slams into her mind and she barely muffles her scream in time when it shoves her over that edge. She jolts, cunt fluttering violently around his tongue and fingers as she cums hard and fast. She pushes against the wall to keep from falling as her legs twitch and almost slide off his shoulders, hiccups and sobs pouring from her mouth.

Keigo doesn't stop, only doing so when she forcefully pulls him by the hair, and even then he just lavishes her quivering thighs in harsh bites and rosy hickies. He slows down his other hand, squeezing the base of his cock briefly.

No, he would cum when shoved deep inside his baby bird. Fill her cunt until it’s dripping. Just like he said. He briefly sets her down as he stands, only to swiftly pick her back up so her legs dangle useless around his hips.

“Looks like I win, baby bird~” He purrs, nuzzling his nose against her jaw.

“You played dirty-” She pants, weakly slapping his shoulder and holds on as he lets one of her legs go. “I knew that… you would…”

He takes hold of his dick, rubbing the tip over her soaked pussy and purrs when she pushes her hips down to push it past her slit. His lips place noisy, wet kisses along her neck and jawline up to her lips. Muffled gasps and whimpers tickle his lips as they bubble out of her throat. 

“Bite my shoulder if you have to~”

This is the only warning she gets when he starts a brutal pace, the sound of wet skin slapping together also hiding their muffled groans. She does as he said and hides her sounds in his shoulder, inhaling his scent that makes her feel even hotter and squeeze her pussy around him. 

His calloused thumb catches her clit and rubs tight circles, picking up the speed of his thrusts. With both of them already so close, it only takes a few more well placed thrusts to send them both tumbling over the edge. 

“F-fu-fuck! Cu-cum with me- cum with me, baby bird.” He begs, pressing their foreheads together and greedily slips his tongue into her mouth.

“I-I’m about… about to… ugh…” She clings to him as best she can, wanting this thick load inside her cunt before their fun ends.

With a soft fluttering noise, his wings spread out from his back and shudder, a few loose feathers falling to the bathroom floor. He nudges his nose against her temple, humming softly into her ear while stroking her tummy with his thumb. Where his cum and cock sits nice and warm inside his baby bird. 

“Fucking… I have to walk home like this.”

He bursts out laughing, peppering kisses over her flushed face. He keeps her in his arms until she is sure she can stand, and even then he has one curled around her waist. A quick clean up is all she gets, but with the promise of a much better one when they get home.

“So, baby bird, you uhh… lost.” He grins, hands shoved into his pocket.

She rolls her eyes, turning on her heel to look at him. “Fine.” She crosses her arms, raising a brow. “What do you want?”

“Simple. I want you to-”

end

[clownsgobeepbeep]

Commence your groveling

This shall be a bit of a part one hehe ^^ The next part I shall post right after

Lights adorned every nook and cranny of the grounds.

Red and white schemes were all around.

Laughter, grins and smiles, and the sound of a calliope playing sweet melodies sounded all around.

All this was enough to bring enthusiasm to the small family that strolled down the makeshift dirt path between the numerous stalls lined up. At least, most of the members were trying to make the best of their day at the carnival.

“I wanna go on that one!”

“That one?”

“That one! The fast one!”

“Then we will most definitely go on it!”

As the twinkling of lights gleamed in the green eyes of a bright young child, she excitedly pointed to a large, wooden roller coaster from which screams of delight were heard. She sat upon the shoulders of her sister’s beau, one of them at least. He grinned up at her as she basically tried jumping out of his grasp, making sure to hold tightly onto her.

“You’re going too!?”

“Why wouldn’t I?”

“Yes! Mom! Mom! Tickets, pleeeease!”

“Settle down, Cordelia. You’re gonna break Schrader’s neck.”

Cordelia tried to calm herself down, still vibrating slightly as she watched her mother reach into her purse to reveal a roll of tickets she had purchased for everybody.

“Is anyone else going?” Jelly eyed the whole group that included her husband, Davey, Atlas, and her daughter’s saddened companion. The two former gave their own responses of ‘no’. “Atlas?”

“Yeah, I guess I could.” the young man gave a shrug, glancing over at Schrader who motioned for him to join him and Cordelia. “What about you?”

“I’ll sit this one out for now. You guys enjoy yourselves and take care of Cordie.” Jelly joked with the two who promised to take care of Cordelia as she rambled on about wanting to sit at the very front.

Jelly then glanced down at the rest of her family, tilting her head at Davey and Mana.

“Do you guys want to go on a different ride in the meantime?”

“No thanks.” Davey muttered out as he accepted the hand Jelly offered him.

“We could go on the swingy-ship ride, or the teacups. Maybe even the carousel.”

“I just want to take a small break for now.” Davey gave a bit of a shrug, leaning over to pet the top of Mana’s head. “I think Mana also wants a break.”

“I’m sure he does.” Jelly also reached over, caressing the axolotl’s face as he softly leaned into her touch. “How about we go and have a snack? You guys can have whatever you want.”

“There’s a funnel cake stand right over there.” Lennie mentioned as he motioned to one of the stalls not too far from their current location. “I think they specifically top it with ice cream.”

“Hey, that sounds like a good idea, right?” Jelly smiled at the pair, trying not to let her smile falter from Mana’s whimpering. “And Mana, you could have some ice cream today.~”

“Jelly, if you want, I can try to find a table and take the boys over. You can buy the cakes if you want, or we can switch it around.” Lennie suggested, having his wife shake her head.

“That sounds perfectly fine, I’ll go get the cakes. Any flavors or toppings in particular?”

“Can you ask for frosted flakes?” Davey spoke up.

“Do you want some hot fudge with that?”

“Yes please.” Davey gave a bit of a murmur as his mother smiled.

“Peanut butter and jelly for me.” Lennie gave Jelly a bit of a wink.

“I’ll be back in a few then.” Jelly gave a bit of a jellyfish wave to her family before making her way towards the funnel cake stand. Lennie was now left alone with Davey and Mana, the latter receiving some more pets on the head from Lennie who led the two to the picnic area.

“This spot seems nice. I’m sure your mom’s buying cakes for the guys and Cordelia, so we’ll have enough space for everyone.” Lennie told Davey who seated himself across from him, Mana hopping onto the bench with Lennie before placing his head on his lap. “Cordelia might want a corn dog later though. That was one of the things she said she really wanted.”

Lennie looked over at Davey who had set his arms on the table’s surface, eyes glancing around the carnival’s sights and wonders. Every single light was reflected in the green of his tired eyes that clearly read longing.

“Hey, Davey,” his father reached over to him with his free hand. “What’s the matter?”

“It’s nothing.”

“Come on Davey, you can’t lie to your old man.”

“I’m not lying.” Davey insisted as he turned away from Lennie, still giving him a side eye and realizing that Lennie gave him a bit of a look. “I just...I miss my sister. And coming to the carnival without her just doesn’t feel very right.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.” Davey nodded as his eyes roamed over what he could see of Mana’s body. “I’ll go on the carousel though. Maybe the teacups too.”

“Yeah, we can wait for Cordelia and the guys to come back and go on the carousel with all of them. Unless you want to go right now, while your mom buys the funnel cakes.”

“No, I can wait. I am a little hungry.” Davey admitted as he now skimmed through the carnival again.

“I miss her too,” Lennie started as he caught Davey’s attention. “But it’s not like she moved away or anything. She’s coming back.”

“But why’d she have to leave? And for so long?”

“It’s not so long Davey. She just needed a break after...everything.” Lennie forced a bit of a chuckle and shrug. “She’s been through a lot since a young age and she never has actually gone out on her own. We just needed to let her go for a little bit because she’s always here for us. Always taking care of us.”

“I guess.” Davey’s eyes once again went to the carnival’s stalls. “I’m just not used to her being gone.”

“Me neither. And I know Mana doesn’t like it either.” Lennie petted the axolotl’s head. “Ula will come back. We just have to be patient.”

“But when?”

“Soon.” Lennie smiled at Davey. “Trust me, it’ll be soon.”

“What have you boys been talking about?” Jelly’s voice now sounded behind Davey, making him turn around as Lennie looked behind him.

“Nothing really.” Davey watched as his mother set down various boxes on the picnic table, setting one down in front of Davey and another in front of Lennie. “Why so many?”

“One for each. Well, except Atlas and me. I imagine Atlas will want something saltier. I can always get him another if he decides he does want one.”

“Then what’s that one?” Davey pointed at another box that did not contain a funnel cake, but instead a waffle with colorful sprinkles and ice cream. Of course, a cherry was right on top.

“Just a waffle for me.Thought I’d get one instead of funnel cake.” Jelly replied as she took a seat beside Mana, patting her own lap. “Come here Mana.”

Mana, as best as he could, forced himself to turn around so that his head was instead on Jelly’s lap and his dragging tail on Lennie’s.

“Good boy.” Jelly petted his head, leaning down to plant a kiss on it before stealing a piece from Lennie’s funnel cake.

“Heeey.” he joked.

“It’s for Mana.” Jelly spoke in a matter-of-factly tone, lowering her fork that she offered to Mana. “Because Mana can have some funnel cake for today. I should have gotten a whole funnel cake for you.”

Mana stared at the piece of funnel cake on the fork, opening his mouth a bit before slowly licking it into his mouth. Soon after, he merely sunk deeper into Jelly’s lap.

“Oh Mana.” Jelly whispered as she continued to pet his head. “It pains me seeing you this way.”

“She’ll be back soon Mana.” Lennie reassured him as he also pet Mana again, watching as Jelly pulled her phone out from her purse.

“Where’s Mana? I need to see pictures of my handsome boy!”

Mana’s eyes slightly darted up as he heard this voice, tail barely moving as he recognized this voice.

“I miss him so much, I want so many pictures of him and Kala and aaall the puppies!”

Mana looked at Jelly’s phone that was held in front of him, moving pictures of his little one as she recorded herself a message to her family while she was away.

“I need Mana to know how much of a good boy he is, that I love him so much.” Ula’s voice was heard from the phone as she smiled at the camera. “I can’t wait to hug you so tightly when I come back home. I miss you Mana.”

The axolotl’s tail wagged a bit more, slightly swatting Lennie who gave a bit of a laugh as he continued to eat his funnel cake. Sometimes even going as far as taking bits and pieces from Davey’s funnel cake.

“I’m taking you to the beach and we’re gonna eat so much ice cream our tummies are gonna hurt. Just don’t tell mom, okay? We can go swimming and eat some sushi, or just sit on the sand and enjoy the waves.” Ula talked to the camera as she offered a soft smile. “I’ll be home before you know it Mana. I’ll see you soon. Love you. Axolotl kisses!”

The video soon ended as Mana stared at the unmoving picture of Ula, burying himself even more in Jelly’s lap as he gave a bit of a sigh.

“Does Mana want some ice cream?” Jelly said in a baby voice before scooping up a bit of Lennie’s ice cream, offering it once again to Mana who softly nibbled on the ice cream.

Davey watched as Mana lay on Jelly’s lap; just thinking of how the axolotl was feeling made him miss his sister even more. He was trying his best to be mature about it, but he really was used to seeing Ula mostly all the time. This trip was definitely different from her sleepovers with her friends and concert getaways.

As Davey thought to himself, he let his eyes wander another time. This time, he caught sight of a booth that was stationed near the practically glowing carousel. A shooting game with duckling targets. Of course, the prizes were the typical plush toys but...something in particular stood out to Davey.

“Hey mom, can I go over there?” Davey spun in place to get a somewhat better look at the prizes.

“Over where?”

“There.” he pointed to the booth. “The shooting game.”

“Sure, do you want us to come with you?”

“I can go alone if you don’t mind.”

“Sure.” Jelly nodded before reaching into her purse again, pulling out a good amount of tickets that she handed over to Davey. “Be careful.”

“I will.” Davey promised as he hopped down from the bench, starting to make his way to the shooting game.

“Take Mana with you.”

“Alright.” Davey returned before taking Mana’s leash and patting his leg so that Mana would follow. “Come on boy.”

Mana brought himself off the bench, mopping right behind Davey who soon led him to the booth.

“I saw a plushie I think Ula might like. Two of them in fact. I could surprise her with these when she’s back.” Davey explained to Mana. “Hopefully I can get at least one of them.”

Davey finally arrived at the booth, taking a seat at one of the individual stools provided. Mana sat on the floor beside him, watching as Davey waited for the employee to come around.

“How can I help ya little boy?”The man welcomed him with a grin.

“I want to play.” Davey stated, as if his intentions weren’t already obvious. “How many tickets do I have to pay?”

“Five.”

“Five? Why so many?”

“These prizes are a bit hard to come by.” the employee gave a shrug. “Some of them might cost ya a bit if you were to actually find them.”

“Yeah? Like which ones?” Davey gave a bit of a frown.”

“Say, this big one for example.” the employee presented a rather large and round plush of a carousel horse that made Davey’s determination spike up. “A limited edition squishable. You won’t be seeing this one anywhere. At least, not for cheap.”

“Huh.”

“And by the look on your face, I can tell this is the one you really want, huh?”

“Maybe.”

“Well, if you do want it, it’s gonna take you shooting the smallest ducky of them all.” the employee walked over to the ducks that moved along the fake waves that went up and down, and he pointed to a small, golden duck that practically zoomed by. “Shoot that little guy, and you can have your horsey.”

“Here are your tickets then.” Davey ripped five tickets from his roll, handing them over to the employee who handed Davey his darts.

“Five darts. Thirty seconds. If you manage to hit any of the other ducks, your points will add up for a different prize.”

Davey loaded in his first dart, aiming it at the ducks. One by one, he shot up to four of the ducks. Very precise shots.

“What are ya gonna do with that last one?”

“I’m getting the horse.” Davey posited as he aimed the gun once again, waiting for the tiniest of ducks to appear.

“Sure thing, buddy.” the employee snickered, waiting for Davey to miss his shot as most did. “You focus too much on it, you ain’t getting it.”

“I’m getting it. I have to.” Davey repeated, hearing the ticking of the timer grow louder as time began running out. So, he gripped the gun’s handle before finally shooting the last dart.

“Oooooh, bummer!”

“Darn it.” Davey cursed under his breath as he set the gun down.

“You got five normal lil ducks. Five points in total. Not enough for the little carousel horsey.” he was told with a bit of a snicker. “But, five points is five points. What prize you want?”

“I guess I’ll have that pink one for now.” Davey muttered as he pointed to another squishy plush, this one being an axolotl.

“Are you giving it another go?” he was asked as he was handed the plush axolotl.

“I think so.” Davey sighed as he rolled out more of his tickets after taking the toy. Before he was actually able to hand the tickets over, however, he noticed that Mana had shifted a bit. “What is it, Mana?”

The axolotl looked to the side, almost as if he heard someone coming directly his way. In the distance where there were more booths and even rides, two people were illuminated clearly by the strands of lights that hung all around. One of the much shorter than the other, smiling as she saw Mana and Davey.

“Mana!”

Mana and Davey just couldn’t believe it.

“Mana! Come here!”

Out of Davey’s hand went Mana’s leash as he zoomed down the open pathway, almost as if the crowds had parted just for him. He barked as loudly as possible as if to tell her he was coming to her.

“Mana!”

By god he couldn’t believe it. His little one! His little one was right there! Running right at him!

“Mana! Come here Mana!” she repeated as Mana dashed towards her, finally coming into contact with his little one who held him tightly. “Oh my gosh, I missed you so much!”

"Commence you groveling, Mana." the other person laughed as the axolotl pounced and attacked with affection.

The axolotl couldn’t hold in the tears that instantly poured out from his eyes as he whined, whimpered, screamed. He let out every possible sound he could as he wriggled in Ula’s embrace, wanting to lick her as much as he could while also nuzzling into her. It was so much going on at the same time it could have made Mana’s heart burst.

“Ula, don’t kill him!” joked the voice that belonged to Ula’s father, he being the one who brought her to meet up with all the others.

“He’s just so excited to see me.” Ula laughed, not being able to contain her own stray tears that were basically wiped away with Mana’s many licks. “I feel terrible- aah!”

Ula fell on her bottom as Mana’s affections grew; he had accidentally pushed her down as his tail wagged rapidly and he whined a lot more. His volume increasingly grew as he rubbed himself against her, the two no doubt getting many looks from other carnival guests. But Ula didn’t exactly care.

“I missed you too buddy, I really did.” Ula caressed Mana as much as she could, petting him all around and even peppering his face with as many kisses as she could give. And through the storm of whines and licks from Mana, Ula looked up ahead at the other figure she had seen earlier.

“Davey!” she called out. “Get over here!”

Soon enough, Davey had hopped out of his seat before rushing over to the trio, James watching with a warm smile as Mana finally settled down. A bit, at least. He had actually now laid between Ula’s legs, still moving around in pure excitement as she held him.

“Davey!” Ula exclaimed as her little brother came to her, throwing himself onto his knees before hugging her as best as possible. “My baby brother, how I missed you!”

“I, I missed you too!” Davey replied as he too had stray tears run down his features, nuzzling his face against his sister as she returned the tight hug.

“You guys are so dramatic.” Ula gave a laugh as she kissed the top of Davey’s head. “I wasn’t gone that long, was I?”

“It felt like forever.” Davey wept as his grip around Ula grew tighter. “Don’t ever do that again.”

“Why not?” Ula ruffled his hair with her hand that wasn’t on Mana. “I was thinking of taking you next time. And Mana.”

“Okay, but don’t ever leave us alone like that again. Please.” Davey sniffled against Ula. “Mana really missed you. He was sad all the time. A-And your boyfriends missed you. And Cordie. And Kala. And the puppies. And mom and dad.”

“And you?”

“Especially me.” Davey wiped his face as he finally pulled himself away from his sister. “I, I got something for you.”

“You did?”

“Yeah, just now. I won it at a shooting game.” Davey presented the plush axolotl to Ula, making her gasp in delight.

“I love it.” Ula hugged Davey once more after taking a good look at the plush. “You’ll be happy to know that I got some souvenirs for all of you guys too. I just left them at home. I left all of my bags at home after my dad picked me up.”

“I’m excited to see everything.” Davey looked up at James who helped the two up, even petting Mana’s head after taking his leash.

“You know, you didn’t greet me like they did.” Ula joked to James who gave a quiet chuckle.

“I was being merciful. I knew how everybody else would react. Such as your mothe-”

“Ula! My baby!” Jelly’s almost screamed as she jumped from her seat.

“Oh boy…”

“I thought you told her you would be arriving today.”

“I did.” Ula sighed with a laugh.

[honeyedlashton]

“Fall More in Love Everyday”

Word count: 3053

Warnings: language, smut, the world. This is me. It’s sorta soft though. Not gonna lie.

A/N: it took me like half a day of sleepy writing and I’ve read over this maybe four times? (Which is not a lot for me.) But hey you guys want Malum content, so I’m here to deliver... also this turned into smut. It didn’t start as smut. Originally I was gonna have them go on a date, but?? They essentially have minds of their own? I can’t control it? Anyway, enjoy.

———————————————————————

Michael woke up early to a gentle breeze and the sun filtering through sheer curtains. He felt strong arms wrapped around his waist, tugging him back into the warmth of an embrace he was all too familiar with.

The bedspread formed haphazard mountains around their legs. And he felt boiling hot everywhere bare skin came in contact with eachother—so all down his backside and thighs. He even had stripes of heat on his calves where their legs tangled in the night. He wanted nothing more than to peel his sticky body away and feel the breeze, but he cuddled closer instead.

“Mike,” Calum’s already deep voice, all low and syrupy with sleep, startled him a little. “It’s too hot to cuddle.”

Michael smiled softly, “but if I pull away, it’ll be too cold, and you’ll pull me back in. It happened all night.”

Calum wasnt a morning talker so he hushed Michael softly. So Michael rolled onto his belly and curled up with the pillows trying to chase sleep. The cold breeze—by comparison—decorated his back with goose flesh but he was still at the stage where it felt nice to be so chilly.

He was right on the verge of finding sleep again when he felt Calum’s arms snake around his waist. He hummed and settled back against him, feeling every curve and line conform against his own. “I thought it was too hot to cuddle,” Michael teased softly.

And Calum shushed him again kissed the top of his head.

Michael settled in, but he wasn’t tired anymore. He was just breathing in Calum’s smell on his skin. That was the best thing about this getaway. A few days to just slow down and smell like the man he loved. To be in love in the city of love. He was overjoyed.

“Cal,” Michael rubbed Calum’s arm around his waist, and got a sleepy hum in response. “You want me to order breakfast?”

“Mhmm” was the half hearted answer.

So Michael reached for the hotel phone only to be pulled back by his muscular restraint. “What?” He giggled, “I can’t order if you don’t let me get to the phone.”

“We can last a few days without food,” Calum grumbled, and didn’t relent his grip.

“You wouldn’t last a few hours in this hotel room without breakfast,” Michael rolled his eyes, “or at least I won’t.”

Calum pretended like he didn’t hear. So Michael pestered him by turning over in his arms and running his hands over the close-cropped blond hair. “Callie, baby,” he began in that soft teasing voice, “let me order you some breakfast. I’ll get some fruit, maybe some French toast, or crepes. Maybe even some eggs. And if we’re really lucky, mimosas.”

Calum seemed to be more annoyed with the fact that Michael wouldn’t shut up than with the concept of food itself, so Michael kept pushing. He kissed him all over his tired face and rubbed over his arms. “Please? I’m so hungry, can’t you hear my stomach growling?”

Calum let out an annoyed huff and released his grip on Michael. “I want crepes and French toast,” he grumbled.

And Michael smiled picking up the phone and the menu. And he ordered in his best French—which was about about sub-average. And that was only because he was reading it practically line-by-line.

As soon as he hung up, Calum pulled him back in his arms. “We’ve got to wake up,” Michael smiled softly, “we’ve got food on the way! We’re in Paris! We’re young and in love! Youth is wasted.”

“Who made you a philosopher,” Calum yawned.

“Me, about five seconds ago,” Michael shrugged and sat on Calum’s lap to wake him up. “Please? I’ll take you to the fashion show.“ They’d spent a good chunk of time last night talking about Paris Fashion Week and how “coincidentally” they came at the right time.

Calum sighed and rubbed his eyes. “Fine, I’m awake.“

“Good.” Michael kissed him good morning. “You look handsome in this lighting,” he hummed.

“It’s just the sun,” Calum rebutted, smoothing his hands up Michael’s thighs absentmindedly.

“Exactly,” Michael grinned.

“All you do is hit on me,” Calum rolled his eyes fondly.

“Well, stop being attractive, and it won’t be an issue anymore,” Michael retorted, and kissed him deeper.

Calum hummed into it, resting his hands on Michael’s hips and thumbing circles onto the soft flesh. “Get off of me before I get too frisky for room service,” Calum smirked.

“It wouldn’t be the only time they’ve seen it—and probably not even this morning,” Michael teased but rolled beside Calum, and threw his leg over his hips. He bit his lip and looked over Calum’s face, and Calum responded by giving him slow lazy kisses. His warm hands rubbed all over his back and bum.

Michael hummed sweetly into the touches, and braced his hand on Calum’s chest. “Mikey,” Calum sighed, “my kitten.”

“Thats me, baby,” Michael kissed all over Calum’s lips and cheeks, to his jaw, and down the column of his neck. Calum growled, even through they were chaste kisses. Michael smiled when Calum’s grip tightened—squeezing the flesh on his upper thigh and lower back. So Michael slowed the kisses down made them a little more intent on sticking to the skin of Calum’s neck, and that earned him a tug that pulled him on top of Calum’s lap again.

“I thought you didn’t wanna get too frisky because of room service,” Michael teased, already rubbing his hands over Calum’s chest and tummy.

“It’s not the first time they’ll see it...” Calum hummed and smoothed his hands up and down Michael’s hips and over his bum guiding him just where he wanted him.

Michael already felt his cheeks get blushy, and he wasn’t sure if it was pangs of hunger or butterflies in his stomach, but it was looking like he’d get to satisfy both soon.

He kissed Calum more intently now, biting at his lower lip and tugging it with him when he’d pull away, only to fall back into another kiss when he’d finally let the hostage lip go.

Calum was eager to chase the kiss, too. Michael could tell by the way he licked at Michael’s lips every time he would kiss him for longer than two seconds. Michael felt powerful, so he pretended like he didn’t notice for a few kisses making Calum work for it.

But Calum wasn’t in the mood to wait, it seemed, because he was lifting Michael with him as he sat up—to have a more fair playing ground in this power play Michael had started.

But Michael found that it was hard to keep the power he’d gotten now that it was a fair fight. And Calum kissed like he did everything else: with intent. Now was no different. Michael opened his mouth almost without realizing it to let Calum in.

Michael relaxed his arms on Calum’s shoulders and pressed them chest to chest. The warmth spread through his chest and to his core and he sighed softly into the kiss. “I love you.”

Calum held the back of Michael’s head, but not to pull his hair, just to keep him close Michael guessed. He hummed a soft “I love you,” as he kissed down the side of Michael’s neck, sending an almost electric shock through his body, and he leaned into it, shifting his whole body to be even closer to Calum.

Calum hummed and hugged Michael by the small of his back to knead over his bum with strong hands. “Mmm, Cal... I’m still sore...” he wasn’t sure if Calum’s hands felt bad or good, but he didn’t want the pressure to go away, so that was a start.

Calum kissed his collarbones, “you want me to stop?”

Michael bit his lip. “No,” he whispered.

So Calum massaged deeper into the soft flesh. “My baby, so soft. So thick,” Calum sighed—not for the first time, but it still gave Michael butterflies to hear.

And he pushed his hips forward reflexively to press them together, “All for you.”

Calum sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Mikey...” he hissed slightly, and Michael bit his lip.

“Hmm?” Michael teased playfully. “What did I do?”

“You know what you did,” Calum growled. “You can’t play innocent with me.”

Michael bit his lip on a smile. “But I’m good at playing innocent...”

“But you’re not good at being it...” Calum pulled Michael’s hips forward again, but this time met his in the middle and Michael moaned into the feeling.

“I miss your hair in times like this,” Michael said thickly, dragging his fingertips down the back of Calum’s head to the individual hairs tickle the pads of his fingers. “There’s nothing to grab when I need it...”

“Fuck you,” Calum said, but it had no bite, “I’m keeping it shaved for longer just cause you said that.”

Micheal rolled his hips this time to really make Calum feel good, “Cal, you know I think you look good with the buzzcut, so I’m not complaining. I just miss pulling your hair.”

“Ever think that’s why I cut it?” Calum teased.

“Fuck you,” Michael rolled his eyes and moved more fluidly. Calum responded by trying to guide his hips a little faster—but Michael was in the mood for slow, “you’d love it when I’d pull it. It got you hot sometimes when we were in public...”

“Michael,” Calum said in a low voice and Michael could feel Calum’s hips rut up between his thighs.

“Sorry, baby, I’m not doing anything like that till after room service gets here...” Michael nibbled at Calum’s lip.

“Tease,” Calum groaned with half closed eyes.

Michael kissed up his jaw and nosed behind his ear. “Handsome,” he kissed him softly. “You’re the sexiest person I’ve ever met. The sexiest person I’ve ever seen. I could go out on a limb and say you are the sexiest person alive. In my eyes, at least.”

“I love you,” Calum‘s voice almost sounded like a whine. “God, Mikey, I love you so much.”

Michael kissed him gently and rocked his hips slowly, almost soothingly against Calums. “I know. I love you.”

Room service arrived, and Michael begrudgingly got off of Calum to put on a crumpled robe from off the floor. He kicked the other discarded clothes to the side so the cart could have room. He made sure Calum was covered before opening the door.

The attendant was in for maybe ten seconds, spoke some English and some French, and was out the door with an: “au revoir.”

“Should we eat first?” Michael suggested smelling the food made his stomach rumble more. “The eggs might get cold...”

Michael rolled the cart right next to the bed—per Calum’s request—and got under the covers again.

Food won out. If there was a decision between sex and food, they chose food nearly every time. Not that sex wasn’t good, but food was food.

Michael fed Calum bites of his French toast. And Calum in return gave Michael some of his crepes. They shared the eggs. And the berries—Michael had fun putting the raspberries on his fingers and letting Calum suck them off.

Calum kissed him deeply when the plates and mimosa glasses were emptied and stacked back on the tray.

“Someone’s feeling a bit more awake now,” Michael teased and hugged him closer when Calum kissed down his neck, and growled. “You’ve got some life back, I see.”

Calum kissed Michael‘s lips to stop his talking. Michael could taste the berries and mimosas, and he hummed and leaned into him. He ran a hand down Calum’s side and tried to pull his body up closer to him, not wanting to waste anymore time.

“I want you, Cal,” Michael begged softly close to his ear, and Calum’s grip on his bum tightened. Michael gasped and pushed into the dull ache. Calum had messed him up the night before, but somehow he couldn’t get enough of him. Not when this little get away was so short.

Michael let Calum’s fingers roam wherever they wanted. Over his thighs and up his waist. Down his back by the curve of his spine.

It was after few seconds of kissing and gentle strokes down his back when Calum brought his other hand—Michael didn’t even notice was gone—back, and teased at Michael’s entrance with cool slick fingers, his body jolted slightly.

“Fuck,” he breathed a shuddery breath, and it turned into a giggle. “That’s still kinda cold...”

“I tried warming it up a little, but I’d only had the one free hand,” Calum said in a voice that would almost be an explanation, if there wasn’t a cut of sarcasm in it.

“You’re a dick,” Michael chuckled softly, and rolled his eyes.

Calum’s response was to push the tip of his finger inside Michael, and he gasped again and clutched Calum’s shoulders. “Shit, Mikey, you’re still pretty open from last night?”

Michael groaned in response.

“If I had it my way,” Calum went ahead and slid in the second finger and Michael buried his face in Calum’s neck. “I’d keep you open like this all the time.”

Michael moaned and rocked back against his fingers. Only a little at first. He wanted to save his energy. Right now he was just focused on familiarizing himself with the feeling again. “Fuck... I’d let you,” he bit his lip, and let out a slight gasp every time Calum’s fingers spread.

“Feelin’ okay, baby?” Calum asked softly, peppering soft kisses on his jaw.

“Mhmm,” he nodded. “Keep going...”

So Calum finished opening him up fully whispering soft words in his ear. And when Michael felt ready, he made Calum take his fingers out and pushed him back against the pillows. And Calum looked so good, looking up at him with loving eyes and parted lips, Michael felt so wanted.

Michael decided he wanted to be the one to prep Calum, so he slicked—and warmed—his hands before guiding them up and down Calum’s length, earning him a groan of pleasure that refused to stay down. Michael liked that.

“You’re so handsome when you want me so much. You’re so obvious, I love it,” he said softly into Calum’s ear as he worked slowly at him. “I like it when you’re as needy for me as I am for you.”

“‘M ready,” Calum grit his teeth, but Michael knew what he meant. He sat up straight and aligned Calum to his entrance before pressing him in.

Michael gasped and groaned into it, it was way more than three fingers, but he’d adjust. He always did.

Calum was there for Michael, telling him short affirmations to make him feel like he was doing well. And between the “fuck you’re so tight,” and “baby, you feel amazing,” and “Mikey, you’re doing so good,” Michael adjusted fully.

When he felt good enough, he dropped his hips taking Calum in fully, and hummed sweetly.

“Jesus, you’re pretty,” Calum sighed, with the most dulcet expression on his face. “I mean damn, baby. So fucking pretty.”

“All you do is hit on me,” Michael bit his lip on a self indulgent smile. He could feel the blush in his cheeks spreading down his neck.

“Yeah, cause you’re my fucking soulmate,” Calum’s hips bucked up, and Michael moaned into it, tightening around him.

“I thought that was Ash,” Michael teased, his eyes and tone softened by pleasure.

“Different kind of soulmate,” Calum smirked. “I’d never let Ashton ride me.”

“He wouldn’t bottom to save his life,” Michael giggled breathily.

“Neither would I. He’d have to fight me for it,” Calum smirked, and groaned when Michael bottomed him out.

Michael gripped at Calum’s hands to support himself, and moved only slightly so he’d make Calum hit his spot. And when he did Michael would tighten around him, and Calum’s eyes rolled back. “Just don’t forget who you belong to,” Michael hummed sweetly before picking himself up, almost entirely off of Calum, only to drop his hips again.

Calum was a mess after that. He went to grip Michael’s hips so tight that Michael briefly considered that there might be a bruise when he got up. But he didn’t give it much thought because he was swept up in the moment. He was lifting up and slamming down against Calum with such a force now, even the mattress bounced.

He gripped the headboard and let his head roll back. He could hear Calum’s breathing getting heavier, and his hips were bucking up with a purpose now.

Michael melted each and every time Calum hit his spot. “Keep going, Cal. Fuck!“

And Calum did. He practically yanked Michael’s hips down once his legs were a shaky, spasmy mess. And Michael had to bite hard on his lip to keep from calling out.

“Come on, baby,” Calum growled in the voice Michael would always instantly fall apart to. “When you’re ready, let go for me...”

It was like that was his magic cue. He came on his tummy with a shuddery moan and subconsciously tightened around Calum. Calum apparently couldn’t handle that cause he came deep inside Michael hissing out his name.

Micheal took a second to breathe and then leaned in to kiss a very fucked out looking Calum, but he figured he looked just as bad—if not worse. “I love you,” He said between little kisses.

Calum kissed him back and pet Michael’s hair. “I love you. You’re prefect... my soulmate.”

“Soulmate,” Michael echoed softly and hugged him tight.

Calum cleaned Michael off, when he’d worked some kind of other magic to convince Michael to get off of him. And Michael sighed happily when Calum crawled back into bed. “We’ll get ready soon. I just want to cuddle.”

“You’re so clingy,” Calum rolled his eyes, and Michael attacked him in a hug.

“You love it,” Michael grinned. “You love me—and my clinginess.”

“I mean, yeah,” Calum said in a thoughtful tone and kissed Michael’s forehead. “I miss it when you’re not here.”

Michael shushed him gently. “Not now. It’s a happy time. Focus on me and where we are.” He kissed Calum softly, and he seemed to accept putting off any other thoughts.

So Michael kept their sweat-sticky bodies pressed together again, this time not wanting to move. Not wanting to leave the bed. Wanting to stay in Calum’s grasp forever.

[petri808]

Plea Bargain

@nalulovelovefest 12/3/19

Mahalo @random-rave for the idea :)

Originally for day 1, it morphed into a story encompassing all 8 days of prompts (playful, innocent, desperate, unbearable, ecstatic, teasing, funny, fight).  Lol, it’s the omake you may wish for from FT City Hero ;)  Rated M for NSFW, hot, cheesy police humor & fluff

When he had walked in to his home that evening after a long shift, officer Dragneel hadn’t expected to find a burglar rummaging through his belongings.  

“Hold it right there!” he flips on a light switch, “you’re under arrest.”

The woman stood frozen a moment before pasting a smirk upon her face.  She drops her bag of loot and holds up her hands, “you’ve caught me officer,” looking at his badge, “Dragneel.”

Drinking it all in, Natsu flashed a fang, my what a score he had here!  Lithe and sinewy the woman’s skin tight, black body suit hugged all the sinful curves she sported.  And how adorable, she even wore an eye mask and cat ears.  He licks his lips as his eyes travel along its length, a yummy hourglass frame and buxom chest, it was a crime in itself that she owned such a body. “You know,” he unhooks the cuffs from his belt, “burglary is a felony young lady and the punishment could be stiff.”  

The woman’s grin only widens, “I think I can handle it.”

“We’ll see about that.” He prompts her up against the couch and pulls her arms behind her back, cuffing the wrists together.  Leaning over his catch, his fingers keep a tight grin on her hip as he brushes his lips over her nape.  “You have the right to remain silent or anything you say can,” jutting hard against her backside, she squeaks when a long solid object makes itself known, “and will be used against you.”

“Please officer Dragneel, I’m sure we could strike a plea bargain that we’ll both be happy with?”

“Hmm,” kneeing her legs apart, “adding bribery of an officer, you must really want to be punished.”

She shrugs her shoulders, “what can I say, I’m a sucker for a man in uniform, but I’d bet,” leaning back she makes a grab for his crotch, “you look even better out of uniform.”

He slaps her hand away. “And you look best, bent over this couch.”

“I know, and frankly I haven’t been laid in a while, so I wouldn’t mind it.”

“Tch.”  Always keeping one hand on her back and a knee on her thigh to hold her still, he frisks the perp.  Running his hands up and down every inch of her body from her calves on up, meticulously scrutinizing junctions and crevasses where she may be hiding something.

“You know that would be easier to accomplish if you stripped me down,” a timber of amusement in her tone. “I wouldn’t be opposed to that.”

“Perhaps you’re right,” gliding the edging of his hand under the curve of her breast, “especially for this area,” and giving the large mounds a squeeze, “there may be illicit evidence hidden away in here.”

“I plead the fifth.”

“Oh ho,” he stands her up straight, “that sounds like an admission to me.  You’ve been playing coquette till this point and now you wanna keep quiet?  Didn’t think I’d take the offer huh?”

“Hmph!” she pouts, and turns her head, “Do your worst to me copper!  I’ll never break!” But the slight uptick in the corners of her mouth are telling.

“Thanks for the permission girly, now I don’t need a warrant to search your premises.  Come on,” he grabs the crook of her arm and pushes her towards a back room of the house, “time for your interrogation.”

Once inside the bedroom, officer Dragneel locks the door behind him and makes sure the windows are locked before removing the cuffs from her wrists.  “I’ll put them back on after you remove your clothes.”

“No.”

He cocks and eyebrow, “Do I need to strip you myself?  The faster you comply, the easier this will be for you.”

“Ugh fine!”  Mumbling under her breath, “would’a been more fun if you did it.”

“All in good time. But you may leave the ears on for now.”

She’s about to question it but decides to ignore the comment.  It wasn’t a kink she thought he’d had but eh, whatever floats his boat cause it didn’t bother her.  She slinks her way out of the stretchable fabric, pulling her arms out, passing it down and over to release her chest from its bindings.  All the while he watches, memorizing details he wanted to recall later, his eyes stalking each movement like a predator.  Down the suit travels, revealing her flat little tummy and as it passes her legs, she kicks it off at him, smirking as she does it.  

He growls and motions to her undergarments, “those too.”

“Shall I leave these on?” she runs her hand along her thigh high, heeled boots.  “Maybe another one of your kinks?”

“Off, you could be hiding a weapon in them.”

“Oh no,” she unzips the sides and starts to remove them, “I left those in my other boots.”  Dropping the first boot, “didn’t think I’d have company,” then the removes the second one, “you got off early today.”

“And how would you know that?”

“I’m a burglar,” unclasping her bra and letting that fall, “I normally case my targets, oh and see,” flouncing her breasts, “nothing hidden here.”

“Not too bright to pick a cops house, and I can see that.”

Removing her last vestige of modesty, “Anyways, like I said earlier, I’m a sucker for a guy in uniform.” She throws the thong at his chest, giggling when it catches on his badge.  “Whoops!”

“Whoops my ass!” he grabs her and drags her onto the mattress, cuffing her wrists to the headboard. “It’s not very nice to tease, you know,” pulling the wooden baton from his belt holder.  Running it along her leg to her inner thigh, grazing her sex and lingering at her entrance causing her to shiver, then trailing it against her side, “especially an officer of the law,” before placing it on his night stand.  He unholsters his Glock, ejects the unspent bullet into his hand and the mag, “wouldn’t want ya getting any ideas,” adding it next to the baton.  His belt is next to be unceremoniously tossed onto the stand.

“I was just being friendly,” she purrs.  “Can’t help it if you thought I was teasing you.”

“Tch,” shirking off his pants and tossing it onto a nearby chair.  “Just an innocent criminal, isn’t that what they all say?”  He unbuttons and zips out of his uniform, shrugging off the stiff material, then the bulletproof vest and adding it to the pile of clothes.    

Arching her body and jangling the metal cuffs as she pulls slightly against it, “Mmm,” she bites the corner of her lip, “I was right about one thing.”

“What’s that?”

“You do look better out of uniform.”

“All the more to torture you with, I’d say.  This technique has been known to elicit confessions.”

“I can imagine.  You expecting me to sing for you copper?”

“Oh, I expect a lot more by the end of this night.”

“Then get on with it,” she settles against the downy comforter in a suggestive manner, “but lose the boxers, or are you going for cruel and unusual punishment, hmm, I’m laid bare, I have my rights, equal treatment an’ all that, so shouldn’t you be naked too?”

“Are you sure, it might add to the punishment.”

“I can handle it… literally,” she winks, “if you let me.”

“No.”

She pouts, “no fun.”

“Enough with the chit chat,” sitting on the edge of the bed.  “Tell me your name.”  She smiles and shakes her head.  “Are you the same person who robbed me last week.”  Silence.  “There’s been a string of burglaries in this area, did you commit those?”  Still not a sound.  “Are you going to tell me anything about your crimes?”

“Nope.”

With a sigh, “Well you leave me no choice,” he gets off and pulls a blindfold out of the night stand, moving to place it on her.

“Hey that’s not fair,” she tries to fidget out of his grasp, but he pins her down and secures it tightly over her eyes.  “But I didn’t get to see the goods!”

“Aww,” he runs the back of his hand along her cheek, “what was it you said earlier, haven’t been laid in a while, feeling a bit horny are ya?  You gave me the perfect method to gain your cooperation.”

She grits her teeth, “that’s cruel…”

“I’ll make sure you are compensated if I’m satisfied with your answers.”

“Come on!” she whines, “let me see it at least once.”

“Alright fine, if you tell me your name, I’ll give you a peek.”

After a brief pause, “Lucy,” she spits out, “Lucy Heartfillia.  Now tit for tat.”

He sits up on his knees to reach over, loosening the blindfold, and remains raised so when it falls from her eyes, his erection is in full view.  She gasps a bit, “impressive… Damn that might be enough to make me go straight.”

“I think that’s the best compliment I’ve ever heard.”  He secures the blindfold again.  “Gonna answer my other questions yet?”  She shakes her head, no.  “Suit yourself.”

Lucy can feel the bed shifting telling her that he’s gotten off and she reaches out with the only sensory device she had left under her control, hearing.  Sounds of a drawer opening or closing, rummaging as if he was looking for something.  Something plastic, no or maybe latex?  Was he putting on gloves or a condom, it was hard to tell the difference.  Finally, after what felt like forever, she felt him getting back onto the bed and moving over her.  “Took you long enough, it’s kinda chilly left bare like this.”

“Don’t worry things are about to heat up.”  He settles more of his lower body between her legs, allowing the weight and length of his cock to ride up against her clit.  The heated pressure makes Lucy arch, but his hips keep her pinned.  “Now,” he flicks her nipple and rims it with his tongue, “the way this works,” sucking in the pert little button in and popping it out, “is I’ll continue to play,” squeezing her breast and nibbling the supple flesh, “however I desire,” he moves over to the next breast, teasing in the same manner, “everything but,” moving to the nape of her neck, nipping and biting, he shifts his pelvis and lines up letting the tip, press hard against the entrance, almost pushing in, “this,” then pulls away, settling once more to simply torture her clit, “until you decide to tell me what I want to hear.”

“T-This is extortion…” but when his canines graze against her neck a little deeper than before, she moans, “fucking hell.”

“You can end this whenever you want to.”

“I-I won’t cave, but at least tell me your name…  So, I can curse it!”

He chuckles, “it’s Natsu,” grinding his pelvis into hers, eliciting a gasp, “scream it nice and loud for me.”

But she sucks in her lips, biting down as she shakes her head trying to muffle the moans.  Lucy had targeted the sexy cop who taunted her dreams and now she was paying for it.  Well, depends on how she wanted to view the situation cause frankly, it was turning out to be a play by play of one of her fantasies, minus a few more kinks she would have loved thrown in.

Natsu bides his time toying with Lucy’s beautiful bosoms, massaging and kneading the malleable flesh to his heart’s content while his tongue lavishes her jaunty nipples with wet kisses, and working the fevered skin until it trembled from the slightest touch.  He couldn’t help but groan at the idea of fucking these mounds one day.  Smirking against them, maybe she’ll break in a third time.

He slides a hand up grasping her under the chin and turning her head to the side, “give up yet?” Lucy shakes her head, “I think you’ll need to see the next half of this.”  So, he pulls the blindfold up letting it settle at her crown and he brushes his lips along her jawline, nibbling their way to her ears.  The warm air from each breath wafts over her skin, making the tiny hairs behind her neck and along her arms stand up.  Shivers course through her body with every nip, but when the sharper canines sink into her flesh a tad, Lucy can no longer hold back an amorous moan.  “Oh, that was a tell,” he teases the blonde, peppering her collar with more love bites. She bucks at him, jerking roughly at her constraints.  Natsu stops his ministrations, “Don’t do that, you’ll really hurt your wrists.”

“Then take them off,” she pants.

“I can’t risk that.” Lucy watches him get off the bed and leave the room for a few minutes.  When Natsu returns, using the sash from a robe, he ties them around her wrist, to the headboard, then removes the metal handcuffs.  “There, that should be better, but still try not to pull hard on them.”

“Gee, thanks,” she rolls her eyes.

“You could always confess.”

“No.”

“I’m not complaining,” taking another nibble at her jaw, “take all the time you need…”  Natsu returns to his craft but decides to roam.  Trailing his hands along her sides, “Mmm, I wonder what other sensitive spots I could find…”  As soon as he reaches just under her rib cage she flinches.  “Oh, there’s one.”  

“D-don’t you dare…”

Travelling lower to her hip and feeling her skin start to crawl, he knows he’s getting close, and sure enough as his hands ghost towards her inner thigh, Lucy bucks her hips and her dying laments turn to lust-filled whimpers.  “There we go.”

Skimming along, Natsu marks a path along Lucy’s streamlined frame, trailing plush wet kisses down over her sides, her stomach, pleasing with his tongue, or scraping his nails to trigger ripples.  She alternates between held breaths and loud sighs, eruptions of giggles and fits of impassioned twisting in a bid to curtail or drive him in the direction she wishes.  Natsu, knows she’s growing impatient and doesn’t give in, merely holding her still when she moves around too much.  

And it is.  Lucy’s desperation is mounting, she’s so close to throwing in the towel, yet she holds out in the hopes that eventually all this foreplay will be too much for him to keep up with.  I mean, he’s gotta be hurting too by now, how much bluer is he willing to suffer through?  But, the closer Natsu gets to her core, the more her resolve begins to crumble.  His lips have become fiery stokes, leaving heated embers in its wake fueling the passions coiling at her center.  They tease now at the junction of her legs, her mewls escalating with each touch along her sensitive thighs, but her dying determination is about to reach its breaking point.

“Damn woman you are wet!” Natsu licks his lips slowly watching as her eyes follow every movement, “I bet you’ll taste delicious…”  With his mouth poised over the very essence of her sexuality, he looks up a final time with the cockiest of grins, his tongue perched and ready to play, “any last words?”

“I…” but Lucy shakes her head adamantly, damn it she wasn’t gonna crack!  Her breathing stills and eyes clamp shut in eager yet anxiety-ridden anticipation.

“Okay,” he sits up and scoots himself off the bed.

“W-Wait!”  Her eyes fly open.  “What…  Y-You can’t just… Don’t just leave me hanging!”

“I told you earlier, if I’m satisfied with your answers, then you’ll get compensated.  But you refused so no sweets for the sinner.” Natsu picks up his boxers from the floor.  “Too bad too,” he gives his cock a few hand strokes, “bet you would have enjoyed this reward.”  Shrugging his shoulders, he moves to pull his boxers on.

“WAIT!!  Okay, Okay, yes it was me, I broke in here three times so far.”

“Three?” cocking a brow, “I only knew of two.”

“The first time, I just kinda,” she blushes and turns her face away, “watched you sleep.”

He sits back on the edge of the bed, “a burglar…” tiptoeing his fingers along the inseam of her leg, “and a peeping tom,” when they reach her clit, he drags them across causing her to shudder, “I’ve lost track of all the counts against you.”

“I’m sorry okay!  I swear it wasn’t me who burg’d those other places, I’m innocent of those.  I only broke in here cause I wanted to have stuff of yours as a keepsake.  Please Natsu…” her whimpered prose a sweet melody as she reaches with her toes to probe his thigh, “please?”

“Well I guess since you’ve complied with my terms,” Natsu crawls back over Lucy, muzzling against her neck, “it’s only fair that I honor the deal.”

“Mmm,” arching her body, “honor, integrity, and all that jazz,” she purrs through the measured kisses along her nape.  “But how bout losing the cuffs?”

He chuckles against her skin, “nice try.”

“Worth a shot.”

Resting more to his side, Natsu slides Lucy’s leg up and over his waist to gain access as he continues ravaging her neck with love bites.  Her succulent moans feeding his actions when he slips a couple of fingers into her entrance, pushing as deep as he can before curling them.  She was still so slick her walls offered no resistance at first, only grabbing hold when he tried to remove them.  “Natsu…” her body churns, hips grinding of their own volition in time with his pumping, she cries out when his thumb sweeps over her clit in a tag-teamed raid.  Harder and harder he plunges his fingers through her channel, adding a third digit to the fray.  This final assault staggers Lucy’s vision with heated and dancing stars, her body contorting when the makings of her climax take firm hold.  Again, his name is cried out to the world, reinforced in a continuous line of babble that only makes sense in her mind.

“My name sounds amazing,” he removes his fingers as she comes down from the high, “coming from those lips of yours.”  Licking his fingers, “mmm, was right about being delicious too.”

Lucy manages a smile as her heaving chest and racked body work hard to balance again, but Natsu gives her sensitive sex little reprieve before he’s right back on top of her, fully vested and plunging his steeled cock into her pussy, swallowing her screams as expletives now replace his name.  It only makes him grin wider.  “Too much?” he teases.  

“Noooo,” is the only word he can make out from her gibberish.

He settles into a smooth repetition, grinding harshly against her center with an upward thrust at the end.  His fingers groping her ass, coveting and lifting to help her meet his momentum. She twists against her bindings, chastising him, wanting so desperately to rake her nails down his back.  “Natsu please undo…”

A crackling sound from a radio, “Central to 348, Hearfillia come back.”

“Oh, hell no!” Natsu grits his teeth.

“Wasn’t…. planning to…. So close…” she whimpers, “so fucking close again…”  Picking up the speed, Natsu pumps faster and harder, practically bouncing her into the mattress.  He can feel the walls clamping down around his cock….  “Natsuuuuu!”  For the second time tonight, Lucy orgasms violently, body twisting and arching while he tries to keep her from bucking him off.

More crackling, “Central to 348, Heartfillia answer your damn radio!”

“I-It sounds urgent Natsu,” she’s still panting harshly, “I think I need to answer, untie me.”

He growls, “But I ain’t done yet!  Fucking Fullbuster can wait!”  

“Untie me Natsu, it’s not like I’m leaving.”

“No!”

“Central to 362, Dragneel where the hell is your partner?!”

“Screw him!  We’re off the damn clock!”

“Natsu come on just untie me so I can shut Gray up.”

“Fuck him, that icy perverted bastard!”

“Central to 348, Heartfillia come back or I’ll send a squad car!”

“See!!  Just fucking untie me Natsu!”

“Ugh!” he reaches up, undoing the knot.  “Goddamn asshole, just hurry up.”

Lucy crawls over and grabs the radio from her nightstand, “348 to central, keep your pants on Fullbuster, what do you want?”

“Central to 348, there was a report of Oracion activity down at the piers, Detective Dreyar is requesting you get down there as soon as possible.”

“348 to central, I’ll finish up what I’m doing and be on my way.”

“Central to 348, any approximate eta?”

Natsu shakes his head at Lucy.  “Um 348 to Central, no I can’t give you that.”

“Central to 348….”  Pause.  “Never mind I assume Dragneel is involved.  Captain Makarov said just get down there ASAP.”

Before Lucy can even put the radio back onto the nightstand, Natsu hauls her onto all fours and rams his cock back into her like a man on a serious mission causing her to shriek from the sudden impact.  The radio clatters to the ground haphazardly beneath the bed.  “Do you…” he impales the blonde sharply, driving over and over, “have any idea how much effort it took,” gripping to her hip bones, “to maintain this erection for so long!”  

“S-Sorry…” her laments mix with carnal mewls, “did I play the part t-too well?”

“Fuck yes!” Natsu growls, “But damn it if didn’t just turn me the fuck on!”  With unrelenting assaults, he plows into the blonde, rocking her senseless.  Losing strength in her arms, Lucy drops forward, biting into a pillow and digging into the sheets to muffle the screams leaching from her mouth.  “And we’ve been so damn busy with work, it’s not like we get this chance often….”  The swings in his hips start to grow erratic, “Oh, god it’s coming….” gritting down, his voice changing octaves, “Luce…” he manages her nickname as the surges ripple through his frame, pulsing with each blast of seed into her.  Natsu pumps his hips in a couple more jerkier attempts before pulling out and falling over spent and tired beside Lucy.  “Fuck that was amazing…”  

“Ugh…” Lucy whines, “I really don’t wanna…”

A crackling sound breaks the din but it’s coming from Natsu’s radio only, with snickering in the background “this is Central to 348 and 362,”and a hint of bemusement in the dispatcher’s tone, “disregard the call for assistance, just check in with detective Dreyar in the morning.  But by the way,” they can hear whistling, cat-calls, and Natsu you stud type comments being yelled in the background, “you might wanna make sure you turn the answer button off next time.”  

The couple turn wide-eyed towards each other and Lucy clambers out of bed to shut her radio off. “Aww fuck!” Natsu runs his hand over his face, “Gray’s never gonna let me live this down!”  

“Just Gray!” she shrieks, “Hello!!  The whole damn department’s gonna know by the morning!”

[switchdnp]

#Spon

Summary: Phil promos his merch around the house, and gets more than he asked for

Word count: 2313

Warnings: rimming, overstim, daddy kink, blowjobs, rlly questionable dirty talk

A/n: i wrote a decent chunk of this at 3 am half asleep so its probably a self-indulgent typo filled mess

It had started out innocently, if Phil were being honest. At first, he’d just wanted to wear his merch around the house, show it off and have Dan either jokingly scold him for an unnecessary promo, or praise him for the design, never failing to make Phil feel appreciated in all his efforts.

But some way or another, Phil had ended up using his merch to tease his boyfriend, wearing the hoodie with only his boxers, and waltzing around the lounge like that, making sure to let the hem of the hoodie ride up whenever he was lying down, revealing his cute bum in all its glory. Things had finally come to a head when Phil wore panties instead of his usual boxer shorts, pink and lacy, and matching the hoodie a little too well.

He’d been tempting Dan with it for hours now, wiggling his butt in an exaggerated, almost comedic manner, that would’ve made Dan if it weren’t so quintessentially Phil, didn’t make him think of how utterly precious and fuckable his boyfriend really was. Phil would bend over at any given opportunity, providing Dan with the chance to stare as much as he liked, but never giving him enough time to actually do anything about it before he was standing back up again, a cheeky smile on his face just to show how much he knew what he was doing. Eventually, Dan couldn’t take it anymore, and that’s what lead them to where they were now, Phil bent over the couch, face down in the cushions as most of his body was supported by the armrest, and Dan eating him out like he couldn’t get enough of him.

“Dan, fuck, please.” He begged, picking his head up to turn and look back at him. Dan pulled away for a second, and he was a sight to behold like that, cheeks rosy and damp with sweat, curls askew and messy, a little bit of spit running down his lips and chin. But his eyes were the best part, dark and completely dilated, with so much of their focus on Phil it almost made him nervous when he thought about how all that attention was on him, solely devoted to making him feel good.

“What do you need, angel?” He asked, and his voice was so low and raspy it made Phil’s stomach flutter and his cock practically pulse, harder than ever.

“More, ‘M just—fuck. Can’t say it, I’m too embarrassed.”

It was no secret to either of them how easily flustered Phil could get in the bedroom. With a quick giggle and shy, darting eyes, Phil thought he could get out of having to explain what he wanted. He thought wrong.

“Come on baby, use your words. You can do it, tell Daddy what you want him to do to you.” Dan cooed, warm and soft and coaxing in such a gentle, yet commanding way. It made Phil’s blood run hot, and he was opening his mouth to speak before he could even think about it.

“Daddy, I want you to eat me out until I cum, Daddy. Then I want you to make me cum again and again and again.” Phil was nearly whining at this point, eyes wide and pleading as they made contact with Dan’s.

“Okay baby, I’ll give you what you want. But on my terms alright? I can make you cum as many times as I like. I won’t stop for begging or crying, I’ll only stop for your safeword, is that okay?”

“Yes, Daddy, that’s, fuck—“ Phil stuttered, losing his composure when Dan started tracing circles around his rim with his thumb, the tip tantalizingly close to pressing in dry. “That’s perfect Daddy, I wanna cry, make me cry for you.”

Dan smirked, and Phil’s cock leaked a little precum in excitement when he realized what he’d gotten himself into.

“Oh, you wanna cry, sweetheart? Want Daddy to make you cry?”

Phil chewed on his lower lip as he considered his options, biting in a little harder as he went with the choice of teasing Dan even more. He sat up and turned around completely, shuffling his knees under his body as he muttered “If I’m not sobbing by the third orgasm, I’ll be disappointed, Daddy.”

Dan’s mouth dropped open slightly, and he almost chuckled in surprise, taken aback by Phil finally managing to push past that barrier of hesitance and self-conciousness around dirty talk, if only for a moment. His eyes squeezed shut for a second as he gathered his wits, needing to take his gaze off of Phil to get himself back together. He was too gorgeous like this, wound up and begging to get off, quiff disheveled, and glasses slipping down the bridge of his nose.

“Alright love, turn around and let Daddy make you feel good again.” Dan guided, speaking once he could think again. Phil did just as instructed, flipping over back onto his stomach, and pulling his panties to the side. Dan spread his cheeks and lapped over his hole much slower this time, dragging his tongue in a circular motion around Phil’s rim, but refusing to push inside, wanting to keep Phil on edge and waiting for it.

Phil squirmed and pushed his ass back with a frustrated whine, mumbling “Daddy, come on, you said you were gonna make me cum. Hurry up.”

Dan chuckled softly, giving in then to Phil’s demands. He pushed his tongue in past Phil’s rim, nearly losing it when he felt Phil flutter around him. He was so desperate for it, hands balling up the sofa fabric between his fingers, needy for something to hold onto as that heat in his tummy steadily grew, letting him know his first orgasm of the night was coming up soon.

Dan slid two fingers in beside his tongue, and Phil was done for, cumming instantly with a choked off cry. His body went limp as the pleasure resided, already exhausted, and the night had barely even begun. Dan pulled away for a moment to let him breathe, watching with a self-satisfied grin plastered on his face as Phil tried to get himself back together. He was still shaking a little, panting under his breath, and eyes clenched shut.

After a few minutes Dan pulled his fingers out as well, shuffling up to where he could rest on the back of Phil’s thighs, and muttering in his ear, “You ready for more, angel? Or do you wanna take a break for tonight, try this some other time?”

Phil lifted his head up and giggled, “I’m not that old yet, you can keep going. Don’t need to stop—don’t want to.”

Dan rolled his eyes in response, but did as requested, pressing three fingers in Phil now. Phil gasped, eyes shooting open and body reacting almost instantly. He avoided thrusting them at first, instead scissoring and feeling around to where he could find Phil’s prostate. He found it easily, rubbing the rough, calloused tips against his spot over and over. Phil practically sobbed, pushing himself up on his hands and knees so he could rut back, fuck himself on Dan’s fingers. It felt so fucking good, maybe a little intense, and maybe a little overwhelming—more than Phil was used to—but he was so willing to take it, more than willing, wanting.

And then it was gone. Dan’s fingers were pulling out again and he was left clenching around nothing. Phil’s whole body shuddered at the sudden emptiness, hole twitching uselessly. He was about to turn around and grumble something about how he didn’t want to be teased, but then Dan was pushing him down on his back, sitting on top of him and straddling his chest. His cock was right next to Phil’s face, close enough if he leaned up he could take it in his mouth--and that was exactly what Dan wanted.

“Go on baby, suck me off. Make me feel good, and I’ll let you cum.” He commanded gently, holding the tip of his cock at Phil’s lips. Phil took him in eagerly, letting Dan push in all the way to the hilt. He felt Dan’s hand in his hair, holding him there as he tried to adjust to breathing through his nose, and somehow that just got him even harder. Thinking about how helpless he was, how Dan could fuck his throat and keep him completely still while he used Phil. The idea turned him on more than it should have.

After a few minutes Dan could tell Phil was getting tired and impatient. He looked utterly wrecked, face flushed and lips damp with spit and precum. He pulled out carefully, giggling when Phil whined and tried to chase after his dick, neck straining.

“Turn around angel, gonna make you cum now.”

Phil nodded, returning to his hands and knees, and closing his eyes as he waited to feel Dan’s cock pressing inside him. Something about not being able to see made the tension stronger, the wait even better, more teasing. Dan’s hands found their way to Phil’s hips, gripping his lovehandles, and fingers digging into the soft skin as he positioned the tip of his dick right against Phil’s hole, deciding to be even more of a cheeky shit and thrusting between his cheeks. Phil groaned, it felt good, but he was so fucking desperate, and it didn’t feel as good as he knew Dan inside him would. Nothing did.

“Daaaddy, stop teasing. ‘M so hard it hurts.” He complained, lips curled in the pout Dan loved so much, the pout Phil knew could get him anything if he tried hard enough. Dan rolled his eyes, but he got along with it, lining himself up properly and pushing inside Phil. Phil practically keened, rolling his hips back to force Dan deeper. The head of his cock brushed over Phil’s prostate, and he almost came just from that, his body so sensitive and sore all over, but still needing more.

Dan held back at first, moving gently in and out of Phil, and keeping his pace slow. Phil knew he meant it in the sweetest way possible, knew his boyfriend was scared of hurting him when Phil was so rarely overstimmed, but he didn’t have the patience for Dan’s loving precautions today. He pulled off of him, turning around and pushing Dan down to where he was laying on his back, before slamming back down on his cock, moaning when he felt it press all the way in. Dan groaned, hands shooting down to where they could clutch Phil’s ass, groping the soft, supple flesh as he started to bounce on Dan’s dick.

He spread his cheeks, his thumb circling Phil’s rim, and blood running hot when he could feel himself fucking in and out of Phil, slick and fast and so, so good. Phil was moving quick now, hands braced on Dan’s chest for leverage as he pulled himself up all the way to the tip, and forced his hips back down with all the strength he could muster, sobbing out loud when he hit his own spot dead-on. Dan’s hand wrapped around his cock, started stroking him in time with his thrusts, and Phil came for the second time that night, hard and all over his and Dan’s chests. Dan followed soon after, overwhelmed by the feeling of Phil clenching around him, and hitting his own release within seconds.

Phil, for lack of better words, flopped off of Dan’s cock, clumsy and tired, but completely adorable in Dan’s eyes. He was panting hard, chest rising with each inhale, but Dan wasn’t willing to give him a break this time, shuffling down to where he could get between Phil’s legs, and bringing the tip of his softening cock into his mouth.

Phil nearly squirmed off the couch, his thighs clasping around Dan’s head instantly, as if his body was trying to shut Dan out, push away the pleasure he knew he wanted so badly.

“Daddy, ‘s too much. Can’t take it.” Phil whimpered, his vision starting to blur and tears rolling down his cheeks. Every little touch set his skin on fire, and it was almost too much for Phil to handle. Almost.

Dan popped off for a second to mutter, “Just a little bit more baby, you can take it. Take it for Daddy.” Lapping softly over the tip of Phil’s cock to give him a moment to breathe, before diving back down, sinking deeper with every bob of his head ‘til his nose was pressed against Phil’s pelvis. Phil shivered, but took everything Dan gave him gratefully, without complaint this time.

“Good boy.” Dan mumbled, mouth still around Phil’s dick, and it was those words combined with a thumb pushing hard against his perineum that sent Phil over the edge for a final time, writhing and twisting on the mattress, unable to hold still as his body was wracked with pleasure. Dan worked him through it the whole time, not letting up until Phil had a hand in his hair and was tugging on his curls, pushing him off.

Dan sat up then, pulling Phil into his lap and cradling him against his chest. Phil was asleep within minutes, exhausted from the events of the evening. Dan chuckled fondly, but let his boyfriend stay like that, happy for him to sleep in his arms as long as he needed. After all, they could always clean up tomorrow.

-

[searchingwardrobes]

Christmas in Storybrooke: 4/13

This chapter has some parts from Emma’s point of view as well as some CS fluffiness with hints of pancakes :) Updates will be daily from now until New Years. (God help me!)

Summary: My Hallmark Christmas movie fic in which flights get cancelled and Henry’s “best friend’ gets snowed in with him in his quirky hometown for Christmas. Only with magic and fairy tale characters.

Rating: M for suggestive scenes and adult situations, not smut

Trigger warnings: Henry is an adult. Read that again: Henry is an adult. Look at the picset: that’s Andrew J. West. If Henry actually behaving like an adult makes you feel icky, the don’t read this.

 Can also be read on A03

Tagging @snowbellewells @kmomof4 @jennjenn615 @kday426 @whimsicallyenchantedrose @teamhook @bethacaciakay @snidgetsafan @delirious-latenight-laughs @winterbaby89 @yohoyohoafandomlifeforme @distant-rose

 Chapter Four: Sleigh Ride

Emma felt odd sitting at her parent’s dining room table in one of the plush chairs from the living room. Even after all these years, she wasn’t used to being fussed over. She even still chaffed at her husband’s constant care and attention, made only worse by Dr. Whale’s diagnosis of preeclampsia. Her hand rubbed absently over her swollen abdomen. She wouldn’t deny that this cushioned seat was doing so much more for her back than the wooden dining room chair would have.

She looked around the table at those gathered around. Her father was spooning more mashed potatoes onto Robyn’s outstretched plate while simultaneously laughing with Killian over something. Zelena nudged her daughter, admonishing her to stop with the mashed potatoes already, then gave David an apology. Emma pressed her fingers to her lips and swallowed a giggle. Who would have ever expected the Wicked Witch of the West to be admonishing her daughter to be a more polite guest in Prince Charming and Snow White’s home?

Killian caught her delighted expression and winked at her, then took her hand and kissed it. He didn’t let it go when Belle said something to him on the other side of the table. Her mother rose to pull a fussy Ava out of her high chair. Regina reached for the baby eagerly, and Snow handed her over. Regina made faces at the baby and tickled her tummy.

Emma’s eyes drifted to her oldest son who was making gestures with his hands as he explained something to his Grandpa Rumple across the table. Evangeline threw her head back and laughed as she lightly touched Henry’s arm. Rumple folded his hands under his chin, only the slightest smile lifting one half of his mouth at the obviously hilarious story. Evie patted Henry’s shoulder, then started talking animatedly. Emma assumed she must be adding to whatever tale Henry was weaving.

“What are you thinking, my love?” Killian whispered in her ear.

She gave him a small smile and a wink. “For one precious moment, everyone is getting along. I’m enjoying it while I can.”

He chuckled and brushed a kiss to her forehead.

*************************************************

Grandpa David – Uncle David Henry mentally corrected – stood in front of the fireplace in the farmhouse living room with an eager grin on his face. He rubbed his hands together gleefully.

“Okay,” he announced to the family gathered around the Christmas tree, “Sn - ahem, Mary Margaret and I decided that instead of gifts this year -”

The children all suddenly groaned.

“Now wait a minute,” David said teasingly, crossing his arms and casting a glare at all the kids, “you haven’t let me finish. Instead of gifts, we’re giving experiences.”

Grandma Snow – Aunt Mary Margaret Henry corrected once again – joined her husband with a huge smile dimpling her face. “It's something I read about on a blog. See, instead of things, you arrange something for you and your loved ones to do together. Most of you will be receiving tickets to certain things on Christmas morning -”

At that, the kids perked up and started to whisper excitedly.

“Are you gonna take us to Disney World?” Charlie asked in a high-pitched squeal.

“Just wait and see,” his grandmother replied in a sing-song voice. Henry shook his head. She was still horrible at keeping secrets.

“Whaddya need to go to Disney World for?” Robyn piped up with a roll of her eyes. “Just take the Joll-”

Zelena grabbed her daughter’s arm.

“Ow!” she protested. “What was that for?”

Zelena glared at her daughter.

“Anyway,” David jumped back in, “the first gift we’re giving was kind of a last minute one, and we’re so excited that we pulled it off.”

Snow made her way over to Evangeline and took her hands. “I know how hard it must be to miss Christmas with your family. But, being in Maine means you can check off some Christmas traditions you can’t get down south in Atlanta.”

David leaned and looked out the window. “They’re here, darling.”

“Everyone bundle up and meet us on the porch!” Snow called. “We’ve got a gift for Henry’s friend Evie.”

Evie turned wide eyes on Henry. “What is all this about?”

He shrugged. “I guess we better go see.”

The kids beat everyone out the door, and by the time Henry and Evie got bundled up and headed out, they had to get up on their toes to see the front yard of the farmhouse. Parked there was a white sleigh trimmed in red, with Buttercup hitched to the front. The cream-colored horse shook her mane and the sound of jingle bells filled the air. Sitting on the driver’s seat was a scowling Grumpy. Lined up behind the first sleigh were six more, each being driven by one of the dwarves.

“Merry Christmas, Evie!” Snow exclaimed, clapping her hands with glee.

“Okay, everybody!” David shouted. “Line up to ride! Two to a sleigh, or two adults and one child.”

Henry grabbed his mom. “We have this many sleighs and horses in Storybrooke?”

“For the horses, three are your Grandpas and the other four came from Storybrooke Stables. As for the sleighs,” Regina shrugged, “well you only said Evie coudn’t see any magic.”

Henry’s gaze found Evie, who was standing with her mittened hands pressed to her mouth, her eyes shining.

“Oh, Mrs. Nolan,” she gasped, “this is the sweetest thing anyone has ever done . . . “

She trailed off, rendered speechless, and Henry’s grandma embraced her. “It’s your gift, so you get to go first. Who do you want to ride with?”

Evie’s gaze met Henry’s as all three of his siblings ran to Evie, tugging at her arm and begging to ride with her. The last thing he wanted to do was share this sleigh ride with a little kid wedged between the two of them. He pushed his way towards Evie and extended his hand.

“If I may,” he said, struggling to remember the charming ways of the men in his family, “I would like to share this ride with Evangeline. Just the two of us?”

She smiled and took his hand. He tried to ignore the groans of protest from his siblings, and the looks exchanged between the adult members of his family. Instead, he guided Evie down the front walk and helped her into the sleigh. He stepped inside, adjusted the wool blanket on the seat across their laps, and told Grumpy they were ready to go.

“This farm is beautiful,” Evie sighed, taking in the snow laden pines, oaks, and maples all around them. She snuggled down in her seat, a contented smile upon her face. “I feel like I’m living a Hallmark Christmas movie. All this snow, and the festival, and ice skating . . . now this? Thank you so much Henry for giving this to me. For bringing me here.”

She smiled up at him, and the muscles in his arms twitched. He ached to put his arm around her, and maybe yesterday he would have, before he was aware of how he felt about her. Evie had never shied away from his touch. She would grab his arm or his hand, lean against his shoulder when she was tired, grab him around the waist for a hug when she was upset. He suddenly realized she had always been the one to initiate those things.

She shivered, then yawned. Henry took a deep breath, then lifted his arm and put it around her shoulder. She melted into him, shifting to cuddle deeper into his side. He lowered his cheek and rested it against the top of her head.

“I’m glad you’re here too,” he told her.

They were silent for a few moments, enjoying the whooshing sound of the sleigh and the jiggling of the horse’s bells. A lantern swung from a hook at Grumpy’s side on the driver’s seat, and it cast bright beams of light across the fallen snow. A few yards behind them, they could hear Robyn and Hope singing “Jingle Bells’ at the top of their lungs as his Aunt Zelena begged them to stop. Evie looked up at him and laughed as the girls dissolved into pre-teen giggles.

“Your aunt and uncle are so nice,” Evie commented. “Why have you never mentioned them?”

“Um . . .” Henry awkwardly cleared his throat, “I don’t know. I guess I just talk about Neal more?”

“And your grandparents? I thought they were the ones who owned the farm. Where are they?”

“They’re . . . on a cruise.” He winced at the blatant lie as he pulled his arm away from Evie. It didn’t feel right to make a move on her when he was keeping so much from her.

She didn’t speak again for the rest of the sleigh ride, neither did she look at him. He tried to tell himself she was just enjoying the scenery, but he couldn’t ignore the tension that had suddenly fallen between them.

****************************************************

An hour later, Emma had her feet propped up on the ottoman, her toes reaching towards the fire place of her own living room. Killian was sitting on the floor next to her, and her fingers were absentmindedly in his hair. She looked over at the sofa where Henry and Evie sat. Henry’s arm was draped across the back of the couch, almost but not quite touching Evie’s shoulder. The girl herself was as close as she could be to Henry without actually touching him. Both wore Santa hats on their heads that they had gotten at the Snow Festival earlier in the day. When they had first gotten home from the farm, Evie had chased Henry around the living room for ten minutes before convincing him to don the hat so she could take a selfie to post on Instagram. Now they sat alternating between staring into their mugs of hot chocolate and steeling glances at one another. The four of them had been chatting in front of the fire ever since the kids had all gone to bed, and a lull had settled comfortably around them.

Evie let out a sigh and dropped her head on Henry’s shoulder. “I’m tired,” she said with a small yawn. “I think I’ll head upstairs to bed.”

“You know,” Henry commented with forced nonchalance, “I’m pretty tired myself. I’ll go up too.”

Killian tilted his head back to share a knowing glance with Emma, and she hid her chuckle by taking a sip of her own cocoa.

“Good night, lad,” Killian called behind them, “good night, Evangeline.”

“Good night,” they chorused back. Emma craned her neck to see Henry’s hand hover at the small of Evie’s back, then she couldn’t see them anymore.

“He’s in love with her,” Emma told her husband softly once she was sure they were out of earshot.

“I know,” Killian chuckled, “I think all of Storybrooke can tell.”

“Except for Evie.” Emma sighed as Killian shifted to rest his head in her lap. “He loves her but won’t tell her because he’s too clueless to see that she loves him back.”

“Don’t worry, love,” he told her, sitting back up so he could look at her, “they’ll sort it out. Just like we did so long ago.”

Emma’s breath caught at the way his hair was all disheveled from where her fingers had been running through it, the way his cheeks were flushed from sitting so close to the fire, and the way his lips quirked up in that roguish half-smile of his. She groaned when she bent over to try and haul him to her, her broad abdomen getting in the way.

Killian’s expression quickly morphed to one of concern at the sudden sound, and he rose quickly to his knees beside her. “Are you well?” he asked, cupping her face with his hand and prosthetic.

Instead of answering or even rolling her eyes as she was so wont to do, she lunged forward instead to give him a rough kiss. She felt him smile beneath her lips, and then he was giving as good as he got. She clutched desperately at his shirt, their teeth clashing with the force of her assault.

“Take me upstairs, pirate,” she ordered before nipping at his earlobe.

“Emma,” he protested feebly as she trailed kisses down his neck, “Whale said -”

“No over-exerting myself, I know,” Emma huffed. She pouted at Killian as she pulled away. “Do you have any idea how horny pregnant women can get?”

He smirked at her, “I’ve experienced it first-hand twice, my dear.”

“Is that supposed to be joke?” Emma couldn’t help quipping with a wink. Then she put on her most seductive smile, draped her arms around his neck, and spoke with her lips just hovering over his. “I know you can be gentle with me, Killian. Please? I want you.”

She almost gave a satisfied smirk of her own when she saw the sheer lust shining in his eyes. But instead she let out a yelp as he stood and scooped her up into his arms in one smooth motion.

“If the lady insists . . . “

“Oh I do,” she purred. Then she bit her lip as he headed for the stairs. “I’m not too heavy am I?”

She asked him the same thing every night. He smiled down at her.

“I’ve carried rum barrels heavier than you.”

She smiled at the familiar line as he toyed with the hair at the nape of his neck. “You know, I like that line better now than the first time.”

“Because your pregnant and worried it changes how I feel?”

“No. Because it’s my husband saying it.”

[hornsbeforehalos]

Whiskey, Sweetheart: Part 3

Pairing: Norman Reedus x OFC, Past JDM x OFC Warnings: RPF, Smut, Language, Breif Violence, Jealousy, Angst, Older man/Younger Woman.

Series Masterlist

Summary: After Jeffrey’s neglect pushed her away and into the arms of his best friend, Norman and Ky have to figure out if their new relationship can withstand not only the aftermath of the unspeakable crime they commited to keep her safe, but the backlash that comes from being co-workers with a very betrayed Jeffrey Dean Morgan.

A/n: This is the Sequel to Anytime, Sweetheart and The Conquests of Norman Reedus. You’ll probably be a bit confused if you haven’t read Conquests yet, though, or at least the Finale, but you could probably figure it out on your own if you don’t want to. But I don’t see why you wouldn’t want to, lol.

A-S Tags, (please let me know if you want to be untagged for this series.)

@elinyaes   @jml509  @jesbakescookies @daddy-kink-confirmed@aquivercactus   @xagateophobiax @sorenmarie87@missghoul18@jdmfanfiction @jeffreydeanneganstrash @through-thesilver-lining@beffyblueeyes @docharleythegeekqueen @make-things-beautiful2@srj1990  @dragongirl420  @reedusteinrambles  @youandyourstupidrope@addiction-survivor25 @fireheartart @redm81 foreveror-never@zombeeemomeee @blacklightguidesnic @jackybehappy@jodiereedus22 @journeyrose

"I just wanted to ask how Jeffrey feels about how close Norman and Kylin have gotten recently." Norman moved his sunglasses that he had had propped up on the brim of his cap back over his eyes, his arms crossing as he shook his head slightly with irritation. Jeffrey leaned forward with a chuckle, his eyes finding Norman's profile as he shook his head as well in amusement before leaning back in his chair and scrubbing his face. "Jesus fucking christ." I mumbled as my grip on Jensen's hand tightened as we watched from our place in the audience. "Tollllldddd youuuuuu." Jensen sang quietly, not moving his mouth out of the firm line it had been secured in. I closed my eyes as I awaited their response, the room almost completely silent as the crowd listened expectantly. "Doen't really matter how I feel anymore, does it, Bubbah?" Jeffrey jabbed with the amused smirk still on his lips, one elbow resting on the table to prop his head up as he peered down the table at Norman again. Norman parted his lips slightly and let his tongue run along the edge of his bottom one for a moment before leaning forward slightly, toward the microphone and popping out a quick, "Nope," before sinking back into his seat. Everyone at the table looked around questioningly, Andy being the only one dumb enough say anything, "I sense trouble in Paradise." "You could say that, yeah, Andy," Jeff snorted in response. "I’m perfectly happy," Norman said nonchalantly, shrugging for emphasis, "Got laid this morning by a hot ass chick, meetin' all these cool people," He held his hand out towards the audience, winking as he looked over at Andrew,"Got your fine ass right here. Ain't no trouble in my paradise, baby." "Next Question," Chris urged on, judging it best to move away from the tense subject. "When do you think Daryl is going to get his revenge against Negan?" Another fan asked, "After Negan gets his revenge on Daryl." Jeffrey butted in sarcastically. "I hope soon, Daryl should get to rock Negan's jaw one more good time just for funsies, I think. Take Lucille as a trophy." Norman snorted, winking down the table towards Jeff. 

"We all know how Norman likes to take things that aren't his." Jeffrey snarked, scrubbing his jaw as he sat back in his chair proud of himself. "Prolly wouldn't be taken if it was taken care of properly." Norman jutted back, unimpressed. "Good God," I breathed, rolling my eyes in my frustration of the events unfolding before me that I had no way of stopping, "This is ridiculous." The rest of the panel went pretty much the same, the other cast members answering questions in between Norman and Jeffrey playing "who's got the bigger dick." By the time the half-hour extravaganza was over, I was so mentally exhausted that all I wanted to do was go back to my hotel room and sleep. Unfortunately, though, Misha and Jensen still had their autographs and Misha had insisted that I help him announce the Gish Winner's trip during it. I was typing along on my laptop, planning the fabulous trip to Hawaii Misha had decided on and contacting the winners when the first group of annoyance came forth. "I heard that she cheated on Jeff with Norman, who does that?" "Jeff's so much hotter than Norman..." "What a whore..." "Who does that? With his best friend?" "I heard she slept with Corey Taylor, too, when she did that video with him...." I rolled my eyes at the whispering women who quickly quieted down the moment they approached Misha. Misha looked at me with sympathetic eyes as he silently signed the documents presented in front of him, not making conversation with the gossiping ninnies like he would any of the other fans. "Just ignore them, Ky." Misha called back to me after a particularly nasty group came through with their scowls and hushed insults, "If we were at one of our cons you know this shit wouldn't fly with me." "I know, Mish, it's fine. SOME PEOPLE ARE JUST ASSHOLES," I replied back, the last sentence loud enough for everyone to hear. "Calm down, Kylin, no need to yell." Jensen scolded without looking at me from his place, but I could hear the teasing in his voice. "Can I go to the greenroom?" I huffed as I looked up to Misha's back, my arms crossed and a pouty look across my face. Misha sighed, but turned around and nodded his head, leaning against the table with his hands on either side of him, "Yeah, girl, go on. Just get everything done, please." "You know I will," I winked with a smile, standing up and gathering my things before basically running behind the curtains. My ass began to vibrate as my message tone went off once I closed the door to the small room designated for Supernatural's cast and crew, the room completely empty and silent. I pulled my phone out of my pocket and flopped down on one of the comfy looking couches, my thumb scrolling my password in as I pulled my computer out with my other hand. NORMSKIE<3: You gettin as much shit as I am? ME: Probably more. Are you at ops or autos? N: Autos rn. Ops next. Where r u? ME: Greenroom, said fuck that mess. I'll be here till Mish & Jen are done with their ops. N: I'll meet u there when I'm done. ME: Mkay. Lemme know when youre otw. N: <3 ME: <3 I kicked my feet up on the couch after kicking my shoes off, my exhaustion setting in as my eyes became heavy from staring at the screen for so long. I finished up what I needed to do to book the arrangements, closed my laptop and grabbed one of the throw blankets littering the couch. It didn't take me too long to doze off. It barely felt like five minutes when suddenly my haziness started to dissipate and low voices were able to be heard. "Uh, is that Ky?" A confused-toned voice came through my drowsiness. "Yeah, man, she's been like this for an hour, she's not waking up," was replied back by the familiar voice I was pressed up against, my cheek humming with the rumble. "She okay?" "Seems like she's exhausted, she's been snoring like a fucking freight train." The vibration sounded again as my eyes opened slightly to find the light bright, urging me to close them again and nuzzle deeper into whatever hole I'd been protected in. "Who are you again?" "Sorry, man, uh, I'm Rob." "Norman," I could feel the jerks from them shaking hands, bringing a groan to my lips as my face buried itself further into Rob's tummy, "Did she fall asleep like that?" "She crawls around in her sleep, man, uh, I came in and we were practicing, she was taking up all the couch so I tried to move her, ha, she ended up like this...."Rob chuckled nervously, moving the guitar that had been blocking the light and lulling me deeper into dreamland a few minutes prior to take a peek at me, "You gonna wake up, sleepy head?" "Meehhhh" I growled in complaint, squinting my eyes. "Kylin?" Norman asked, his body tilting slightly to try to see me at a better angle, there was a small bite to his voice when he spoke again as his eyes took in what he was seeing, "You enjoy your nap?" "Shuddup. Rob's comfy." I groaned as Rob moved the guitar out of his lap and onto the floor before helping me hoist myself up into the sitting position. I could tell my hair was a mess as I attempted to run my fingers through it, looking up to Norm with a small smile. Norman, however, just kinda stared at me with his eyebrow cocked, earning him an eye roll from me. "Norman, Rob Benedict. Rob, Norman Reedus" I gestured back and forth between the two men.

"He already introduced himself, hun." Rob smiled, shaking his head as he nudged me, "I'm gonna go find Rich and see what he's doing. I'll find you later." "Mmmkay, later." I assured as he kissed my cheek before standing up, me scooting over to where he'd been sitting to gather his guitar in my lap as Norman sat down next to me. "That's your ex Rob?" Norman asked, leaning his elbows on his knees. "That's my friend, Rob, who I just so happened to have dated in the past, yes." I looked over to him as I strummed a meaningless chord, my eyebrow quirking up at his attempted accusation. "The one you slept with when you went back to L.A?" "Jesus fucking Christ," I sighed, shaking my head as I strummed again, my fingers playing delicately on the frets, "Is that gonna be a problem?" "Not unless it becomes one." He said easily, his eyebrow still cocked as he leaned back into the couch, his arm draped across the back of it, "You comin' back to Georgia with me?" I rolled my eyes and continued to play, not really paying attention to what I was doing until I felt Norman's hand on my lower back. "I didn't know you played." "Well, now you know."    "I guess there's a lot of stuff I dunno, huh?" "That's the fun part, right?" "Guess so." He chuckled, tugging me into his side as he wrapped both of his arms around me. He leaned down to kiss the top of my hair before leaning his head back against the sofa cushions with his eyes closed. "This is nice." The niceness was short lived as the door was suddenly kicked open, a shouting Rich storming through with his phone in front of his face,  followed by all the other cast members that had recently gotten their lunch break. "KYLIN! KYLIN FUCKING ACKLES! SAY HELLO TO DICK CHAT!" he screamed at me as he shoved the phone in my face, me giving him a sarcastic smile back and flipped him off, burring my face back into Norman's side. "Oh look, it's Daryl fucking Dixon!" Richard beamed as he put the phone down, holding his hand out for Norman to shake "Richard Speight, man, love your stuff." "Thanks, man." Norman rasped before wrapping his arm back around, peering down at me with a hint of curiosity in his eyes. "This is the family, Norm, That's Richard, obviously, and that's Ruth, Bri, Kim, Osric and Adam, they're all apart of the cast." I explained, pointing at each person. Everyone turned to wave 'hello' before returning to whatever they'd been doing, besides Rich, who of course squeezed himself in the couch beside me. "How have you been, lovely?" Rich cooed as he popped my thigh with his hand, his head moving to rest on my shoulder. "Dealing with shit," I huffed lightly, my own cheek moving to rest against Rich's crown, "Can't wait 'till this weekend is over, though." "Yeah, I heard," Rich started, moving his head to sit straight and turn slightly to be able to look at both me and Norman, "Some nasty shit going 'round." "People constantly got somethin' to say." Norman shook his head, bringing the hand that wasn't rested on my arm to his face to gnaw on his fingers, "Shits so fuckin' stupid." "I've been dealing with it since Jeff and I started dating, it's something that comes with the territory, I get it." I explained, sitting up slightly to rest my chin in my hand as my elbow hit my knee, "I'm not gonna let it get to me." "Wouldn't surprise me if it did," Norman mumbled, swiping his fingers across his goatee with annoyance, "Shit's a lot to deal with." "Kylin's dealt with a lot of shit over the years," Rich verified, squeezing my leg again for good measure, "Ain't no stupid fan girls gonna run her away."

"So are you gonna go back to Georgia with me?" Norman asked again as we sat on my hotel bed eating pizza and watching a movie. It was Saturday now, and he was scheduled to fly back the next morning. 

The rest of the events of the convention had been much of the same, snarky remarks between Norman and Jeff mixed with bitchy fan girls spewing hate everywhere they could. I ignored most of it, but I was still happy to be getting away from the public eye for awhile.

"You know I am." I smirked at him, bringing the slice of pizza to my lips. "You ne'er said you were." Norman mumbled back with a mouth full of food. "Why wouldn't I? I don't have anything else better to do then hang out with my sexy boyfriend." I winked sarcastically. "So that's what I am now?" Norman choked, eyebrows raising.

I could feel my face flush red at the realization of the term I'd used, my eyes widening as I held back a cough, "Uhh...."

Norman covered his mouth as he swallowed his food, a grin smirking across his face and crinkling his eyelids, "S' cute." I shook my head, my hands covering my face in embarrassment, "You know how I said a while back that I put my foot in my mouth around you?" "I figured that was just the sexual innuendos" He snorted back. "God, are you there? It's me, Kylin. Just take me down now, yeah?" I mocked, looking up to the sealing and lifting my palms. "Why are you so embarrassed? You know you're my girl." "Yeah, but we never really talked about...titles and stuff." "Well...let's talk about it." He said nonchalantly, taking another bite. I raised my eyebrows in curiosity as I waited to see if he'd continue. "So...." I mumbled after a moment of awkward silence. "I'm not really....good with having a girlfriend, Ky, I'm not gonna lie. It's not easy." "I get that." "It's been a while." "I get that, too."

"I know things are still...difficult with Jeff. I get that you loved him a lot." He gave me a shy smile as he looked up at me from his bangs. "I did. I'm not going to lie to you, it's not as easy for me as I make it out, I guess. It hurts still, ya know? And how he's been acting now....Jesus, hell, I get it if you don't wanna..." "That's not what I'm saying, hun, not at all." He shifted more to where he was cross legged in front of me, "I just don't know what you expect outta me."

I snorted, shaking my head at him as I met his eyes, "I don't expect anything from anyone, Norm. You're one of my closest friends, you're always here for me. That's all I need from you." 

Norman nodded, small smile returning as he grabbed my hands and pulled me closer to him, my face falling into his chest as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders and ran his hands down my back, "I'll do my best." "Good." I smiled. 

I had two days in Georgia with Norman before I had to unceremoniously reattach myself to Misha's hip until Christmas. During those two days though, one of which was going to have to be spent around Jeffrey at the wrap party and of course Norman and I were just thrilled. "We're only staying for dinner, after that we're going to a bar and getting trashed." Norman promised as he walked down the hallway towards the bathroom where I was doing my makeup. He had his tie about halfway tied when he made it to the door and stopped dead in his tracks, "Jesus fucking Christ."

"What?" I asked, looking at his reflection in the mirror. I could see his eyes raking up my frame from the tips of the high-heeled ankle boots I was wearing, up my tights covering my legs to the short skirt that barely reached passed my ass. His eyes visibly darkened as he let his tie fall loose around his neck, forgotten, as he approached me from behind, his hands going to my outer thighs and working their way up. "Seein' you bent over like that....mmmm" He groaned as he pressed himself against me, his terribly hard cock rutting against me through his thin dress pants. His fingers found my hips as he pressed me back over the counter, my blouse riding up my lower back as his hands splayed across my flesh, "So fuckin' hot." "Norman, we're going to be late," I whimpered breathlessly, my eyes closing as wetness pooled between my legs with his touch. "Don't fucking care." He growled as he pushed my shirt up more, exposing my tattooed back to his view that encouraged another growl from him. His fingernails raked across my Boondock Saints tattoo, the pads of his thumbs following by rubbing deep circles into the ink. He dipped his fingers into the waist of my skirt and tights, pulling them quickly down to my knees to expose me to him. "You know how fucking gorgeous you are, Whiskey?" He murmured as he took a step back to enjoy the view of me bent over for him as he unbuckled his his belt and pulled his own pants down enough to pull his aching cock out, shaking his head in disbelief, his eyes never leaving my heat as he languidly stroked himself, "God damn irresistible." His eyes met mine again in the mirror as he stepped back against me, him slicking the swollen head of his dick through my folds before pushing into me with one swift thrust, urging me further against the counter with a grunt. "Fuck," I whimpered, eyes rolling back and sealing shut as his hands gripped my hips to hold me still, the sensation from the stretch of his thickness driving me insane. "Yeah, that's it, girl..." He groaned, biting his lip as he began to pump in and out of me slowly, his focus darting between my reflection in the glass and where our bodies were causing a explicit slapping sound. "Fuck, Norman!" I cried out as he buried himself deeper in me, his fingers leaving baby bruises where they dug into my skin. "Yeah, say my name," He grunted back as he picked up his pace, the sound of our thighs echoing louder. "Normannnn!" I keened as I forced my hand between my own legs, the heel of my hand working my clit as my finger tips brushed back and forth against his balls. "Oh fuck yeah!" He panted as he wound a hand into my hair, gently tugging it to straighten my back against his chest, my fingertips circling puckered bundle of nerves as quickly as I could, "Take it, girl..." "Fuuuuuuhhhhk!" I screamed as my body convulsed against his, my orgasm washing over me in blissful waves of climax. The pulses of my walls against his throbbing cock sent him spiraling with me as her pushed me back against the counter to let himself spill onto the shiny tile floor. "Fuckin' hell." He grunted out as the last of his release dripped from him before he tucked himself back into his pants, "You're gonna kill me." "Not if you kill me first, Reedus," I laughed breathlessly, trying to regain my composure as I pulled my skirt and stockings up correctly, "Can I finish my hair now?" "You can do whatever you want, sweetheart." He chuckled, going back to tying his tie.

"Well look who finally decided to show up!" Andrew beamed as he pulled the giant wooden door open of his Georgia house, smile blistering his face as he engulfed Norman in a hug. "Sorry we're late man...got...busy." "I bet you did, cheeky bastard." Andy teased as he released Norm from his grasp, turning his attention to me and wrapping me up in his arms, "How've you been, my love?" "Getting through it." I said pleasantly, shrugging slightly as we separated. "Well you look amazing, dear, come on, lets get you two fed." he smiled sweetly, his arm still around my shoulder as he lead us into the dining room. Everyone was already there, the entire cast sitting around the large table giggling and laughing, letting out a loud "Heyyyy!" when we finally entered the room. Of course, Jeffrey didn't pay any attention to either of us, just to the brunette who's face I couldn't see linked to his arm. I ignored him anyway as we took our seats at the opposite end of the table, until Norman finally looked over to them and his eyes almost popped out of his head. "Jaxon?" My head immediately whipped around from where I'd been chatting with Lauren at the mention of the name, my eyes coming in contact finally with the woman who had herself draped across Jeffrey as he fed her small little bites of food. She looked to Norman and smiled, almost cockily, twinkling her fingers with a small wave in his direction. "You two know each other?" Andy asked unknowingly. I snorted, rushing to clamp my hand over my mouth to prevent the champagne I'd been attempting to swallow from flying across the table. Norman shot me a warning, unamused glare. "Damn, Jeff," I choked, trying to compose myself again, "Didn't think you were the one to pay for it." Everyone kind of looked around with confusion written all over their faces as Jaxon sat up more in her seat, prying her self away from Jeffrey who was shooting daggers at me with his irise as he spoke, "I paid for you, didn't I?" I snorted again at his poor attempt to jab me, "Honey, you paid me three grand to talk to me, I'm sure you're probably payin' a lot less for a lot more with that one." "Excuse me?" Jaxon sneered, her head recoiling as if she'd been punched as she scrunched her face up. "I'm sorry, did I accidentally speak your name? I didn't think so." I retorted right back. "Jesus Christ," Norman mumbled, scrubbing his lip with his finger tips as he ducked his head down, "Ky, stop." "Uhhhhhh, I am utterly confused right now," Andy said, obviously flustered as his head whipped back and forth from our end of the table to theirs. "Jeffrey thinks he's being cute, but really he's just playing himself." "Sometime it's nice to have someone who actually knows what they're doing, what can I say?" He grinned back, tongue stroking the front of his teeth smugly. It was Norman's turn to snort now as he raised his head back up, "Seriously, dude? Who were you fucking?" Everyone had stayed quiet to see how the argument was going to play out, but once Lauren had decided that it wasn't going to end smoothly, she finally spoke up, "Okay, now, guys, let's put your cocks back in your pants until at least desert. I haven't had enough to drink to deal with the 'Who's fucking who' game just yet." "I think it's time Ky and I go, we got shit to do." "Oh yeah, and what's that Bubbah?" Jeffrey sneered as he watched us stand up with Andy and make our way around the table. "Well, first, I'm going to get 'er in my truck, then possibly get those tights off of her thighs, " Norman started, dark smirk playing on his face as he teased, "Then while we're on the way to the bar so I can get her nice and toasted, my hand's gonna be up her skirt." He wrapped his arms around me after I pulled on my coat and tugged me into his side before looking back to Jeff and Jaxon, "Then, when I get her home, I'mma be buried in between her sexy ass legs for as long as I possibly can." "Shouldn't take too long." "Longer than you," I snorted back as we made our exit. "Sorry about that, guys" Andy apologized as he closed the door behind us. "Don' worry 'bout it, man, we knew he was gonna start shit." "Didn't expect him to bring your favorite prostitute to dinner, though." I giggled, covering my mouth with my hand again as Norman threw me another glare. Andrew attempted to contain his own chuckle but failed, shaking his head as he ran a hand over his beard in amusement, "You know it's just going to be rough with him. He'll get over it." "I don't have to deal with his ass 'till April now, it's her that I'm concerned about." Norman replied, looking down at me with a small hint of sympathy in his eyes. "I'll be fine, you know that." I assured. "He's still a dick." "Yup." I agreed, popping the 'p,' before giving Andy a hug goodbye and climbing into Norman's truck.

The darkness dissipated as a groan emanated through my lips, the sun brightening everything around me as it poured through the window Norman had just opened. "Wake up." Norman's gruff rasp came from somewhere near the devil light. "Where the fuck am I?" I grunted, throwing my arm over my face to shield my eyes. A chuckle came from Norman, where he stood at the edge of the bed, looking just as rough, "Who're you?" "What the fuck happened?" "You don't remember?" he barked a laugh as his eyebrows raised. "Oh lord, that's never a good sign." I whined, rolling my eyes. "You hungover?"

"Like Satan after his fucking birthday dude. Kill me" I groaned, rolling over and stuffing a pillow over my head. "There's Tylenol on the nightstand." Norman advised with a smile. "Grrrr." "You might wanna check your Instagram." "Grrrrr." "We were pretty drunk last night." He chuckled nervously. "Why don't I remember anything?" I mumbled from still under the pillow. "Absinthe may have been involved. And Rumpleminz." "Judas, why?" "I can't remember." He chuckled lightly again. "Fuuuuuuuck" I bitched as I untucked myself from the sheets, swallowing the pills and water as fast as possible before finding my phone and making my way to the bathroom. I did my business while checking my social media. I had hundreds of notifications of comments on multiple pictures Norman and I had been tagged in, all of them involving Norman's tongue being shoved down my throat or us feeding each other more liquor. "Jesus Christ." I grunted as flicked the screen off and went to brush my teeth. "So much for staying low, huh?" Norman teased as I rejoined him in his bedroom, him laying back down on the bed now looking almost just as miserable as me. I crawled into the bed and fell into his side, my head on his outstetched arm as I closed my eyes again. "People are assholes," I mumbled against his skin, nuzzling into his broad shoulder as he wrapped his arm tenderly around my waist. "Shit's prolly about to hit the fan." "You worried?" "Not really so much about me, more for you. People are....intense when it comes to me dating someone. I don't want you to deal with the bullshit of dealing with me." I snorted, rolling my eyes as I looked up at him, "I'm not concerned, Norm." He hummed in response and dug his nose into my hair, rolling over to engulf me into his arms again as we dozed back off to sleep for the next few hours. 

"Come on, get up, Whiskey." Norman chuckled, shaking me lightly. I groaned again, sleep grogging my brain still even though my hang over had dissipated immensely "Whaaat?" "Come on, let's go ridin'." "Riding what?" "Uh, my bike?" He said with a chuckle, my eyes finally open to see his pretty blue irises beaming down at me from the side of the bead, his hand was on my hip where he'd been wiggling me, and his fingertips squeezed the flesh lovingly as he leaned down to kiss me, "Come on, get up, it's pretty outside." I groaned again but did as he said, taking a quick shower before pulling on a pair of worn jeans and a long sleeve shirt with my jacket and sunglasses, piling on the bike with him before he set off towards the Georgia back roads. 

The streets curved and rolled up and down into hills along the pastures before cutting into the giant trees that of the forest. The air was crisp and cool against my face as I clung to Norman’s back, the side of my face pressed against his leather jacket as I hummed in contentment.

I thought about how much I really didn’t care what people said, even if I would have probably thought the same things from outside the situation. I felt safe, secure, and loved with Norman whenever he was near, something that I now that I was truly thinking about it, I didn’t ever really feel completely with Jeffrey. I knew he loved me, he had been there for me for so much, which was what made it even harder for me to comprehend how he acted towards me after the situation with Anthony. Maybe he just couldn’t deal with what we did, or maybe he just didn’t like seeing the monster that Anthony had forced me to become. 

Norman and I hadn’t ever spoken about what all had occurred, but I could tell that he didn’t judge me for it the way that Jeffrey did. The few times that I had talked to Jeff after the incident he had said little short things that stung me, and it fueled my resentment towards him and of course encouraged me to argue. I didn’t feel the need to defend my self or my actions with Norman, and I liked that. 

“It’s beautiful out here, isn’t it?” He called back, startling me out of my thoughts.

“Yeah, it is.” I agreed with a smile, leaning up around him to kiss the small sliver of exposed skin on the back of his neck before returning my face back to its spot against his back. 

We rode around for a few hours before he finally made our way back to the house, shedding our jackets and helmets and shoes at the door before making our way into the kitchen for lunch and drinks.

“What do you want to drink, babe?” I called out as I poured myself a glass of Cabernet that probably didn’t pair very well with the microwave pizza I was melting. 

His breath was on my neck in an instant, startling me since I didn’t know he had entered the room or walked all the way up behind me. He spun my around and pinned me against the cabinet, his eyes dark with lust as they raked over my face and neck.

“I think I need some Whiskey, Sweetheart,” He rasped before plunging his tongue into my mouth.

[nialledfromfics]

- chapter seven: part one -

“There’s so many reason’s why this shouldn’t work...but there is only one reason why is should...”

24 weeks

“Some pregnant women feel their sexual desire skyrocket when they're pregnant, at least part of the time. They may enjoy the increased blood flow to the pelvic area and the heightened sensitivity to stimulation that this brings, as well as the increased vaginal lubrication due to hormonal changes.”

His greedy mouth is attached to the side of my neck, sucking and nipping, tiny moans vibrating up from my throat as his hips roll fervidly against mine. My hands gripping to the sticky skin of his shoulder blades, my fingers moving and floating up through his dark hair, tugging as my body writhes and trembles under the intoxicating weight of his lean frame. He’s mumbling against my dampened skin; the words wavering through the billow of heat that surrounds us as his tongue slips down the rising valley of my chest.

My head tosses back in a broken cry. “Niall!” His teeth sink into the flushed tender flesh of my breast as the worn pads of his thick fingers slide down my sides, tracing my curves and roughly digging into the dip of my waist. Pressing my tongue to the tip of my teeth, I desperately cry out for him again; his hips going harder against mine with each pleading sound of his name belting off my parted lips.

My skin melts under his fiery touch, begging to be set ablaze by his wandering hands and greedy little mouth. He sucks across my breasts; pulling my nipples into his hot mouth one at a time before I feel his thickness push deep inside me. My body buckles underneath him, the air forced from my stricken lungs as he thrusts deep into me again. Clawing my nails over his broad shoulders, he faintly hums out against my heaving chest, his head resting right below my chin as he watches his hips go wild between my spread thighs.

I can feel him. I can feel him stretching me until the delicious burn slowly begins to disappear, my center dripping wet and used; pulsing for him. I can feel him. I can feel the solid weight of his sweaty body on top of mine, crushing me into the mattress and making me coil up from how intense and frantic his thrusts are. I can feel him. I can feel his hot breath beating out against my dank skin, breaking out in shivers from his heavy pants and his raspy whispered words. I can feel him. I can feel his heart pounding, feel his chest rapidly expanding under the press of my fingertips as they lay over his flexing back. I can feel him.

I can feel my body begin to give way. I can feel him start to tense above me, his swollen length growing rigid as his hips rock against mine. “Please,” I beg him between heaving breaths, my eyes pinching so tight, I can see bright stars shooting behind my darkened eyelids. My body rolls with his, craving to feel what he wants to give me.

Moans shoot out from my bared throat as he buries himself inside me, my heart racing as I gulp for needed air. I am so close. I can feel him. So close. His hands grip tighter to my hips, fingertips sinking well into my heated skin as he thrusts deeper and deeper, rolling his hips.

“Don’t stop…”

I am so...close.

Thrust. “Oh God.�� Thrust. So…

I sharply gasped for air as my eyes popped open. The room was dark, pitch black around me and my body was laid sprawled out on my back in my bed. Alone.  

My chest heaved under the material of my sleep shirt as I fought to regain my breath, beads of sweat rolling down my blushed skin and I reached up to flick away at some hair that had gotten stuck to my dampened forehead. “What the fuck,” I mumbled aloud, my voice groggy and laced with sleep. I confusingly blinked away the wicked thoughts that were still swarming around in my head and forced myself to push aside the intense throbbing that had inconveniently settled between my legs. Lagging my eyes back as I slid my eyelids closed, one last heavy breath pushed past my rounded lips and I dropped my hand down to my side with a thud. “I can’t believe I just had a–”

Squeezing my bent up legs together as a shiver rippled through my lower body, I felt a damp warmth press against the skin of my inner thighs and I curiously crinkled my brow as I lifted my head up off the pillow. Carefully sliding my hand under the covers, I pushed past the round of my swollen tummy and slowly dragged two fingers down the middle of my panties to feel along the thin material. My overly sensitive body involuntarily shuddered from the intense sensation. Drenched.

Great.

Yanking my hand back out, I rubbed my thumb against the wet pads of my fingers and let out a loud disgruntled groan before I quickly tossed my head to the side and leaned up to flick on my lamp. I picked up my phone to read the time: 4:26am and faintly shook my head as I set it down before snatching the pregnancy book Niall had given me off of my nightstand.

Laying back in my bed, I hurriedly flipped through the pages before stumbling to the right chapter, opening the book wide and holding it up to read the very first line: “Second Trimester: Typically, nausea subsides, emotions even out and sex drive returns.” Sex drive returns. My eyes flicked up to my ceiling in annoyed haste as my jaw clenched tight. “You’ve got to be kidding me…” I grumbled, slapping the book shut and tossing it with one hand back onto my bedside table. Rolling my body over onto my right side, I smushed my face down into the fluffiness of my pillow with a long irritable sigh.

It had been almost three weeks since Niall kissed me at his house and not only had we not discussed it, we had barely even talked at all. He did text me to apologize a few times afterwards, telling me he was just caught up in the moment, but I acted like it didn’t even happen, quickly changing the subject or, lastly, ignoring him altogether. We hadn’t even hung out since then either, though I guess, he could sense why. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to see him, but he had put me in such a place where I almost felt weird being around him.

Yes, I had kissed him back, but I was just caught up in how he was making me feel...of having someone touching me and wanting me. I mean, I didn’t really want to kiss him...right? I had no idea, and maybe it was just the extra hormones in my body making me feel that way, making me automatically kiss him back when I felt his lips on mine, but having a sex dream about him? That was on a whole other level and made me feel even more awkward with having to see him face to face. I mean, I couldn’t even get this guy out of my fucking subconscious, what the hell was wrong with me?

Folding the edge of the pillow over the front of my face, I let out a muffled scream, frustration and confusion over taking me more that I wanted to admit. What was going on inside me and why couldn’t I just fucking get over it?

I was sure I didn’t want to be with Niall, I couldn’t be with Niall….so what the fuck was my head doing?

I had fallen back asleep at some point that early morning, my bedside lamp still on and my fatigued body still tucked up in the same exact position as when I had drifted off. My eyes lagged open, hesitant to even want to at all as I tugged the warm blankets around my curled up body even more. I was hoping a little more sleep would’ve wiped the thoughts – and the dream – from my head, making the fact that it even happened at all a little more bearable, but the second my eyes saw the daylight, it all came crashing back to me.

Every feeling, every sensation and every single tingle and touch, it was all still prickling over my skin and swirling in the back of my mind, determined to not let me forget. Rolling my eyes under the press of my eyelids, I pushed out a grumble; incoherent rambles slipping past my lips as I slid my hand over the front of my face and pushed myself up in my bed.

Shaking my head, I let out an exasperated sigh with slumped shoulders, my hands plopping down into my lap. “How much more awkward could you make things, Laine,” I said out loud to myself as I pursed my lips to the side, “I know, have a fucking sex dream about him so now that every time you see him that's what you think of…” I blew out another heavy sigh and tossed the covers off my bare legs, shifting them over the edge of the bed so I could get up.

Only thing I could do now was to just pretend it all never even happened.

Walking out into my kitchen, I started to prepare my breakfast; a bagel and a cup of tea and shuffled back into my bedroom to grab my robe while my tea was steeping. Stopping by the foot of my bed to tug it on, my eyes faltered over to where my phone was sitting on my nightstand as I slipped my arms in, my mind instantly flashing to him once again. “Jesus!” I cried out, my eyes bounding around the space of my room at my own powerless will to stop thinking about him for one goddamn second. I knotted the ties of the robe up over my belly and flicked the ends of my hair up from the collar before huffing out a breath and padding over towards the table.

As much as I didn’t really want to and as much as the little voice in my head kept telling me not to, I knew I had to call him. I would feel horrible if I didn’t. I had an appointment later in the day, just a routine check up but we would get to hear the baby’s heartbeat and I knew he would not want to miss it. Still, I was reluctant to pick up that phone and dial his number, my hand holding steady out by my side as I just stared down at my nightstand.

The prospect of seeing him made the nerves jitter through me and all the way to my fingertips, not only because he had kissed me, but now after having had that explicitly vivid dream of him plowing me into my mattress...I knew I wasn’t going to be able to get any of it out of my head. But I knew I should call him, I knew if I didn’t at least invite him to go along, I would regret it later. It was his child too, it was his right to be able to have the choice to go and I guess in the back of my mind, I kinda knew he wouldn’t say no and that was why my anxiety was playing such frustrating games with me.

Grabbing the phone, I quickly dialed him and put it up to my ear as my teeth roughly sunk down into my bottom lip. I had an arm perched across the top of my belly, my hand tucked up under my bent elbow as his line rang and rang. Rolling my eyes up to the ceiling, I blew out a jumbled breath right as he answered.

“Hello?”

Good Lord, his voice. My head lulled down into the palm of my hand, my eyes easing closed as I swallowed hard. “Laine?”

“Hey,” I finally said, my own voice unintentionally cracking a little. Way to make it worse, I thought. I heard a breathy chuckle push out from the other end and I jut my tongue out to lick across my lips as I lifted my head.

“You talkin’ to me now?” he teasingly asked, a playfulness coming out in his tone.

I shook my head at his comment and inhaled deep before attempting to continue. “I’m...I’m only calling ‘cause I have an appointment today and…I wanted to see if you wanted to go?”

The line fell quiet for a moment, just the soft puffs of his rhythmical breathing slipping into my ears. My face tipped down to stare at my bare toes as they wriggled down into my carpet, my heart nearly pounding out of my chest as I waited for his answer. I had no reason to feel the nervousness that I was feeling, and frankly had no idea why I was even feeling that way, but the longer he seemed to ponder over the idea, the worse it became. “You...you don’t have to–”

“Yeah...yeah, of course I’ll go,” he spoke up, cutting me off as he paused again, “I just...are you sure?”

Nodding my head, I brought my stare back up. “Yeah,” I told him, “Yeah, it’s fine.”

“Listen, Laine, I really am sorry, ya know, I-...I shouldn’t have kisse–”

“Well, um, my appointment’s at 4 so…”

“Oh, um...” his voice timidly stuttered out a bit, clearly affected by the fact that I obviously hadn’t let him finish. There was no way in hell I wanted to even think about the kiss, let alone talk about it or have it become this weird topic of conversation between us. It was better left in the past. It was over, time to move on. “You need me to pick ya up?”

I cleared my throat, my fingers carding through my hair. “Yeah, thanks. Just come by mine.”

“Alright then,” he mumbled, the phone shifting a bit in his hand, “I’ll see ya in a bit.”

“Bye, Niall.”

And that was it. That was the call. I hung up the phone and hastily tossed it to my bed like it was burning a hole into the skin of my palm, pretty much feeling even more awkward than before, but still knowing that it was the right thing to do. I just hoped he got the hint and wouldn’t bring up the kiss when I saw him.

After taking a relaxing hot shower, I picked a really cute short dress from my closet and slipped it on, the almost body hugging material clinging nicely to my newly bestowed curves. I glanced at myself in my full length mirror, my head tipping to the side as my still damp hair laid over my shoulder. It was kind of weird looking at my body now, not in a bad way but just in a very...interesting way. How the body changes and grows during a pregnancy, it was miraculous and intriguing and beautiful. I definitely looked much different than before. And not just my belly; my hips had gotten a little wider, my breasts had grown almost two full cup sizes and I had accumulated an extra bit of thickness in certain...areas. I turned a little to the side, staring at the silhouette of my tummy and over to my bum. Yup, definitely gotten bigger.  

Peering down, my flattened hands ran over the span of my belly, a giggle slipping past my lips when I felt a tiny kick push out from the side. The baby had become so active over the last few weeks, so much so that it interrupted my sleep most nights and would hurt at times too; especially when the baby would roll its entire body over and you could feel every little pointy body part poking at my insides. It sure was cool to watch though and it was something I found myself doing often, just sitting and watching my baby move inside me. It made my heart swell and a smile pull over my lips as I would sit and talk to the baby, poking back when it kicked as if we were having our own little conversation.

I finished getting myself ready, blow drying my hair and doing a bit of makeup before shoving my feet into a pair of ankle boots. I wasn’t really sure why I was putting so much effort into my look, actually I had paused a few times while straightening my hair and then again as I was curling my eyelashes, wondering what had provoked me to even want to take the time to do all of this. Not that I normally wouldn’t, but quickly realizing that I really hadn’t since I found out I was pregnant.

It was a funny realization that caused a chuckle to bubble over me but then the thought of why I cared all of a sudden popped in my head and I shooed away the irritating notion that it was because of Niall, because it couldn’t be because of Niall. I didn’t care what he thought...I had no reason to care.

I had no reason to care...right?

Blowing the relentlessly aggravating thoughts from my head with a heavy sigh, I headed into my kitchen to grab a bottled water before Niall was expected to arrive. No sooner had I taken my first gulp, did I hear him knock lightly on my front door. Once again the nerves started to riddle over me; my eyes went wide, my hands clamming up and my breaths suddenly catching in my throat that felt like it was closing up on me. Why the hell am I so damn nervous? This is stupid, so stupid.

Another knock echoed out through my flat and I set my bottled water down on the counter before walking over to my door. Unlocking it, I carefully swung it opened and was immediately rendered still just by the sight of him. I swallowed hard as my eyes dragged up his lean frame; dark pressed jeans and a lightly patterned blue button down that was rolled up at the sleeves, showing off his perfectly toned forearms and expensive watch. I felt a warmth tingle over my skin and my gaze slowly slid up from his feet to his chest before reaching his face, just to see that he was also staring me up and down. Finally locking his eyes with mine, his hands shoved down into his front pockets and I watched as his throat bobbed in a heavy swallow, my eyes fluttering lightly as I fought back the annoying, but very graphic, visions of my dream that were desperately trying to claw their way back into my head.

“Hi Laine,” he kindly greeted me, his voice gravelly and smooth and I gave him a sweet smile as I took a step back, holding the door open.

“Hey, Niall, come on in.”

His head tipped down as he stepped in past me, a strong whiff of his cologne piercing through my nose and making my eyes pinch shut with how amazing he smelled. I shut the door and shuffled around him to grab my bottled water from in the kitchen, feeling the heat of his stare on my backside. “You look nice,” he complimented me as I turned around to face him again, unscrewing the top of my water bottle before dropping my eyes down to my front.

I let out a small chuckle as I pushed my one palm over my small round tummy. “This is one of the dresses you bought me,” I quietly informed him, taking another swig of my water.

His brow raised slightly as he cocked his head back a little, the edge of his lip just barely curling up in a smirk. God, do not do that. “I remember,” he said back to me, giving me a nod, “Looks really good on you.”

“Thank you,” I gently responded as I put the top back on my water and shakily flicked my eyes away from his. I could feel the blush quickly rising to the apples of my cheeks and I peered down at my toes to keep Niall from seeing.

Reaching up to tuck some hair behind my ear, I cleared my throat and awkwardly stepped past him again to reach for my bag that was resting on a table by the front door. I could hear him twist around to face me, his eyes obviously still fixated on me as I struggled to keep my stare down; the longer I looked at him, the more the wickedly intense images ripped back through my mind. It had fallen quiet as I rummaged through my small handbag, not even sure what I was doing except trying my hardest to not think about him standing so goddamn close to me. “You okay?” he asked after another harrowingly long minute of silence and me senselessly fumbling through my bag like an idiot.

“Uh...yeah...yeah,” I muttered softly, rolling my eyes at myself as I closed up my bag, “I’m just...just a little nervous about the appointment.”

“Why’s that?”

Shrugging my shoulders, I whipped my head around to glance at him. “No real reason...just, um, ya know...can we, uh, stop by the grocery on the way back?” I asked him, swiftly changing the subject, “If you don’t mind, I need to pick up a few things.”

Niall nodded his head in response, his big hand plucking out of his front pocket to run up through the front of his lightly styled hair. “Yeah sure, of course,” he said before holding his hand out towards me, making my eyes flick down to his open palm. “Hey, I just wanted to make sure we were...okay, ya know after everythin–”

“We should probably get going, yeah?” I interjected, whipping my body around to grab at the door handle. Squeezing my eyes shut as I felt the awkwardness start to set in, I yanked the door open as I forced out a small laugh. “Never know with traffic!”

Niall took a step towards me. “Laine…”

Peeking back to him over my shoulder, I darted my eyes over his. “Niall, I…I don’t want to be late, okay?”

He let out a sigh, his hand slapping down to his thigh in defeat before pulling his keys out of his pocket. “Yeah…” he complied, “yeah, okay...let’s go then.”

I hated feeling that way around Niall. Absolutely despised it. I felt awful for being flaky and standoffish with him, especially because we had finally gotten to a point that I didn’t feel like that. It was like we had regressed, and I knew it wasn’t all his fault, I did kiss him back, I did enjoy it, but I think in my head that made it even worse somehow.

The appointment had gone well, Niall getting the biggest smile on his face when the doctor let us hear the baby’s strong and healthy heartbeat. It was rather special, a sweet little moment and for a split second, all the weirdness floated away. The baby was measuring right on time, everything looking good and after we stopped by the store on the way home, Niall kindly offered to help me carry my grocery bags back up to my flat.

The ride to and back was relatively silent, except for a few instructive mumbles and very, very mediocre small talk being shared. But I could sense that he knew something was off; my eyes not being able to meet his for more than a second and the way my body stiffened every time his shoulder bumped up against mine in the doctor's waiting room. It wasn’t until the ride back to my flat from the grocery store that a single accidental brush of his fingers across my outer thigh as he shifted gears sent my whole body into a feverish tizzy.

I gasped under my breath as his hand abruptly pulled away, trying my best to play it off with a fake cough as my legs snapped shut and my hands eagerly tugged down at the bottom hem of my dress to cover my thighs. Those repetitive lascivious thoughts quickly swarmed me; a fire starting from my center and ripping over my entirety as my eyes squeezed shut, my only noticeable attempt at trying to stave off the desperate want that was soaring through me. The intoxicating scent of him was zipping over my senses, the zing of his touch seared into the smooth skin of my thigh and I struggled to calm my rapid breaths, vividly remembering the suffocatingly thick weight of his body on mine as he pushed himself inside me.

Niall stayed quiet for the rest of the drive, but I could tell he was staring over at me and I was positive the gears were churning in his head in perplexity over my odd behavior.

Following me into my apartment, we both trudged straight into the kitchen and set the bags up onto the counter. I let out a huff as I slipped my fingers from the handles of the bags down to rest on the edge of the countertop, Niall standing right next to me. Neither of us had said a single word and I let out a hum as I began reaching into one of the bags to pull out a few items.

“Laine, what’s goin’ on?”

His voice snapped me from the concentration of my task, my hands stalling on the box of doughnuts I had just rested down on the counter. Pressing my lips in a line, I silently shrugged up a shoulder at him, not even sneaking a glance in his direction. “I can tell there’s…” he began once more, pausing to clear his throat as he nervously shuffled on his feet beside me, “you were bein’ jumpy in the car and just...weird all around and, I dunno I-...I feel bad.”

I swallowed hard at what he was telling me, my movements slowing as I continued to empty the bags. “It’s nothing,” I informed him, trying my best to keep my tone steady, “really...”

He rolled his eyes in a sigh as he turned his body to face me completely, his one hand propped up on the edge of the counter. “Don’t say that ‘cause I know it’s not true,” he told me, his voice raspy but firm on his tongue, “I know you’ve been actin’ different, ever since I-...ever since we kissed, it’s been different and I get it, ya know? I shouldn’t have done that, kissin’ ya and stuff.” My eyes fluttered as I listened to him, his words billowing over me like a thick veil that no matter how hard I tried, I just couldn’t see past. Why his words held onto me so much, I would never know. “It was impulsive and not well thought out on my part, but...Jesus, I fuckin’ miss you…”

Knitting my brows, my finger tips froze on the box of crackers I had grabbed from a bag before I slowly turned my face to peer over at him. My eyes caught his in the daylight of my flat that was seeping in past my opened blinds and for a moment I positively could not breathe. The blue of his eyes was so captivating, so luring and I just stared at him, watching the dark of his pupils bleed into the striking blue. It stumbled me from my thoughts for a second before I finally parted my lips as I sucked in a tiny breath. “You miss me?”

I wasn’t sure why I asked him that question, maybe just from the shock of not realizing that he could actually feel that way about me. Or being forced to recognize the fact that while he was missing me...I was actually missing him too. I was really really missing him. “Yeah,” he told me, slightly tipping his head to the side, “I miss hangin’ out with you and talkin’ to you, jokin’ around and shit, just...everythin’. I just miss bein’ around you and I don’t like the awkward feelin’...I don’t like that I made ya feel that way. I know we’re friends, Laine, and I shouldn’t have kissed ya, okay? I shouldn’t have taken advantage of that–”

And that’s when I kissed him. My hand dragging over the side of his bearded face and gripping harsh around the back of his neck, my lips pressing to his to cut off his words as my shoulders raised to my cheeks. I had squeezed my eyes shut, so tight that I couldn’t see his reaction, but I could feel him and I felt his lips lightly ease apart against mine as my fingers gently raked up into the back of his short dark hair and I slowly slipped my tongue into his waiting mouth.

His warm body froze against me in that split second my lips landed on his, almost as if he was tangled between what he should do and what he wanted to do. But as I begged him to kiss me back; urged him with the sweet lap of my tongue and beckoned him with the fiery press of my body, I melted into him as his big hands finally raised up from his sides and wrapped around my waist. Humming into the kiss, I finally felt the hungry sweep of his tongue and my nose pushed into his flushed cheek as I kissed him even harder. Both of my greedy hands were now clasped around the back of his head, my fingers clawing at his scalp and tugging him in even closer.

His heated breath pulsed out and filled my heaving lungs, faint gasps being shared as he playfully nipped at my lip and a giggle slipped from my throat as his splayed hands ran along my lower back, coaxing me further against him. I lifted myself higher to meet my uncompromised needs; raising to the tops of my toes and curling my arms around his broad shoulders and neck, my fingers sliding over any part of his warmed skin that I could touch. I was a frantic mess; leaning so far into him that I was practically knocking him over as I sucked at his tongue and whimpered between the eagerly bitten kisses I was giving him.

Starving for breath, I reluctantly pulled my puffy lips away, hovering my parted mouth at his as I kept my eyes pinched shut, afraid to open them quite yet. Pushing my forehead to his, my one hand ran up into the disheveled hair on the top of his head and I curled my fingers in as I felt his big palm skim up the arched slope of my back. “I can’t stop thinking about it,” I softly whispered out to him, his thick fingers twisting into my hair as they wrapped around the nape of my neck. I felt the brush of his lips across mine as he silently tried to coax me into another kiss. “I can’t stop thinking about kissing you.”

Roughly pushing my mouth to his once more, I felt a vibration etch out from his throat as he struggled to contain his moans, the thumping of his heart meeting the intense beat of mine as his fingers fisted into the material of my dress at my lower back. The heat between us engulfed me, the sweat already pooling at my exposed skin as I tightened my arms around his neck and kissed him with everything I had in me.

“I can’t...cant stop thinkin’ ‘bout you,” he blurted out between deep wet kisses, “I’ve wanted this for...so...long…”  

I whined out under my stolen breaths, my body folding into him as his fingers slid off my neck and tugged gently at my hair to tilt my head, his mouth sloppily dragging from my lips over my chin. My head tipped back within his grasp, my swollen lips hanging open as he sucked across the jut of my throat, my nails digging into his scalp with each pass of his hot tongue.

I don’t know what came over me, but I had never in my life wanted to feel someone against me, never wanted to taste someone on my tongue, never wanted to be with someone more in my life than I wanted to be with Niall. I needed him. I needed to feel him inside me, just like I did on that night.

His teeth grazed over my tender sticky flesh, pulling it into his mouth and I gasped as his big hand roamed down over the round of my bum, his fingertips barely ghosting between my legs. I wasn’t sure if it was intentional or if he was just caught up in the moment, but I rolled my hips forward in reaction, desperate to feel him as I sunk my teeth down into my bottom lip.

Easing my eyes open, the room was sweltering, spinning uncontrollably around me as I moved my hands down to cup around his neck and carefully brought my mouth to the side of his face. His lips slid off my damp skin as he felt my nose slowly nudge across his bearded jaw, my parted mouth coming to rest right at his ear.

Swallowing hard, my eyes fell closed again as I shakily licked across my lips. “I want you.”