#this ended up being wayy longer than i initially planned it to be

[adrenalineeyes]

obviously the best headcanon for george's relationship with thomas when he grows up is the one where george is also gay and he looks to thomas for advice/community/understanding/etc. be it in person (he can move to the us) or through mail

BUT consider the second best, and debatably funniest, headcanon for their relationship in the future: which is basically the bertie & his gay cousin dynamic. like, george is straight and marries a nice girl and everything, but he's a sensitive, kind person, who doesn't treat thomas' sexuality the way robert did (with tolerance but irresponsibility and disregard for thomas' feelings and privacy) or thomas' ex-coworkers (poking fun, using it against him, outing him left and right, not understanding how hard it is for him, etc.). instead, he explains to his wife that the reason why he still keeps in touch with his once servant, is that thomas was the one who spent the most time with him throughout his childhood, allowing him and his siblings to ride on his back for hours at a time while his mother was supervising the estate and going out, often out of town, other adults not being much less busy, and the endless stream of nannies not being very interested in playtime. he waxes poetic about how kind thomas' smile was, and how he was the only adult who was never, ever annoyed at them, not even slightly, who seemingly always had time for them despite his many duties, who has never spoken a single ill word or made an irritated sigh towards them out of tiredness. how, one day, thomas left for good, and he asked his mother why would thomas choose to leave downton when they had so much fun playing together, and his mother said "because he found a person who would make him really happy, and that person lives in america, so they left to be happy there, together". how he taught himself how to write so that he could write to thomas in america, to ask him what was so good about that person, and then what was so good about america, and then what was thomas doing exactly, and then they just kept in touch. thomas never revealed the identity or gender of that person, not even when george discovered that you could fall in love with girls, and started to ask thomas for advice (he would never give his sisters that ammo), since apparently he was so in love with some girl that he moved across the ocean for her. thomas gave him some great advice, although george did find it a bit, well, vaporous at the time. at some point, george discovers gay people (insert your favourite scenario here), and has his hmmm moment, after which he puts all of his writing skills into the effort of helping thomas put his trust in him in regards to his sexuality and choice of partner. having perfected the art of discussing thomas' private life in their letters, he tells his wife (obviously with thomas' consent) about the amazing home that they have built together and about their role in their local community and about how amazing and brave thomas is to have lived through what he did and come out on the other side of it as such a considerate, emotionally developed person, and how much he admires thomas and treasures their correspondence as a genuinely important interpersonal connection in his life, and will never allow anyone who wants to stay in his good graces to disrespect thomas.

TLDR; george & thomas = bertie & his cousin, allyship headcanon 4lyfe

[thundersnowstorm]

Anonymous asked: I loved your RobbxRhaenys fic! How do you think the pairing would work if Rhaegar had won? Is he a ward like Theon, is she a bastard? Do they hate each other?

(posted as a regular text post bc tumblr fucked up and i lost the original ask)

ahh nonny thank you so much!!

i actually have a whole rhaegar wins au planned out in my head (maybe i’ll write some of it at some point, first i gotta finish the crownless fic follow-up oneshot). but here’s a general run down of how robb x rhaenys might play out in this world.

under the cut since this turned out wayy longer than expected

basic premise: rhaegar kills robert at the trident and wins the war. meanwhile in king’s landing, jaime still kills aerys when his madness gets too much, or when he reveals the caches of wildfire. tywin stays carefully neutral throughout the war. upon returning to the city, rhaegar is crowned king. lyanna still dies in childbirth.

rhaenys and aegon are legitimate. show canon and i do not get along lmao. jon, the semi-acknowledged bastard of the king, is taken to winterfell to be raised because elia is not risking another blackfyre rebellion, and ned wants lyanna’s kid to be raised in her home. rhaegar is just guilt-striken enough over lyanna’s death to allow it. 

jon visits king’s landing on occasion as he gets older. he and rhaegar have a weird relationship (there’s a lot of angst there, a lot of unresolved issues). jon and aegon do get along though, which everyone is secretly relieved about. it takes rhaenys longer to warm up to jon. she remembers the rebellion, she remembers how hurt her mother was when rhaegar dropped everything for lyanna. rhaenys has never quite forgiven rhaegar. eventually, with encouragement from aegon, she strikes up a tentative friendship with jon.

with lyanna, brandon and rickard dead, house stark has suffered enough and rhaegar lets them go without asking them for much more. however, robb is asked (ordered) to visit king’s landing when he gets older. everyone has suddenly realized that house stark is a much bigger power than previously thought, and it’s a good idea for the iron throne to stay on good terms with the future warden of the north.

(by contrast, jon arryn is sent to the wall at the end of the rebellion. he didn’t have the advantage of being related to the new king’s dead lover to save him. the vale is passed down to harry hardying with one of the lords acting as regent. in the stormlands, stannis bends the knee and becomes lord. he marries cersei and it is the single most entertaining marriage in westeros.)

still, despite all the work queen elia and jon connington and the rest of the small council put into repairing relations with the north, they remain very frosty. ned certainly never forgives rhaegar. he’s not about to go to war again, but he’s also never going to step foot in king’s landing again. robb grows up with a distinctly antagonistic view of the iron throne, and the belief that it’s better for the north to keep to itself and stay out of politics of the realm. still, his childhood is more or less the same as it was in canon.

rhaenys is a force to be reckoned with at court. she grew up at her mother’s elbow, learning the nuts and bolts of ruling, how everything happens behind the scenes. oberyn taught her how to fight with a dagger (same as in crownless), as well as a few tricks to suss out people’s secrets. when she visits dorne, she watches doran, compares his style of ruling to her mother’s, to her father’s. if westeros had absolute primogeniture, rhaenys would make a formidable queen. as it is, she is aegon’s number one pick for hand for when he eventually takes the throne, scandal be damned.

her circle of friends is certainly an interesting mix. myrcella baratheon (a bit older and an actual baratheon this time) and margaery tyrell are conventional ladies in waiting, but they’re also both vying for aegon’s hand. meanwhile the sand snakes are the terror of the court and oberyn thinks it’s hilarious. rhaenys thinks tyene should stop pretending to poison mace tyrell. when arianne visits - well, things can get interesting. no one can quite tell if tyrion lannister and princess rhaenys hate each other or not, but their debates are certainly fun to watch. 

(hmm, maybe theon also ends up in king’s landing. robert trusted ned to watch over him in winterfell but rhaegar and ned have a very different relationship. idk where i’m going with this train of thought, but it would certainly add a new dynamic to rhaenys’s little court.)

rhaenys is not betrothed. it’s unusual, and people have started to comment on it. she is one and twenty and the most eligible woman in the land. there’s quite a bit of interest for her hand, but elia has decided that rhaenys will have a say in her marriage, and rhaegar oscillates between not caring much about the matter and toying with the idea of marrying her to aegon, in the old tradition. rhaenys has told him that if he even tries to marry them, she will elope with the first man she can find and wouldn’t that be quite the scandal? so rhaenys remains unmarried.

(the biggest difference in rhaenys here from rhaenys in the crownless fic is that here, rhaenys knows power. not only was she born into power but she has grown into it as well. she will do her duty to her family and the realm, but she will not sacrifice her own happiness unless there is no other choice. as practical as she is, marriage alliances are off the table.)

this is a lot of setup to get to robb and rhaenys making out but bear with me lol.

robb goes to king’s landing shortly after turning eighteen upon request (summons) from the throne, accompanied by catelyn, sansa, and arya. it’s skirting on rude for ned not to come, but rhaegar lets it slide. he’s lyanna’s brother, and there’s a lot that rhaegar feels guilty about concerning lyanna. anyway, it’s robb’s second time in king’s landing, but the first time he’d been fourteen and rhaenys had hardly noticed him. now though, there’s a bit of “oh shit he’s hot now” before robb makes it clear he’s only here out of obligation. then rhaenys decides that there’s no reason for the two of them to interact and that is that.

(or is it, asks the author in a leading tone.)

so really, there’s no reason for robb and rhaenys to speak to each other. rhaenys is busy with a discrepancy in taxes coming from the vale, and robb is busy trying to avoid southroners at all costs. but circumstances bring them together somehow. maybe there’s a conspiracy afoot, and they have to work together to stop it. maybe rhaenys is forced to show robb around the keep. or maybe rhaenys finds the quiet of the godswood peaceful and robb keeps coming across her there.

“this isn’t a real godswood. not without a proper weirwood heart tree, like the ones in the north.” “mayhaps you can show me a proper godswood someday, my lord.”

really, they have nothing in common, there’s nothing they should have to talk about, but rhaenys finds robb’s frank honesty refreshing after all the double talk at court, and robb thinks she’s probably the cleverest woman he knows. somewhere along the line they become each other’s refuge from all the politics and mistrust of king’s landing.

there’s a feast one day, celebrating some important occasion or whatnot. and there’s dancing and mead, and rhaenys can’t remember the last time she had this much fun. she and robb slip away into the gardens to cool off in the night air and well. rhaenys will blame it on a few too many cups of dornish red but robb’s lips fit perfectly against hers and he tastes like cinammon.

robb panics. this is the princess he is kissing, daughter of the king who brought so much pain upon his family. gods this is jon’s sister, and robb’s father always told him to behave honorably towards women and the thoughts he’s having are certainly not honorable. so robb runs.

rhaenys is furious. well, really she’s embarrassed but anger is easier. for the next week or so she is a nightmare to be around. not that she’d admit to anyone that she’s in a bad mood. meanwhile, robb is moping and hiding from everyone and probably spending most of his time sparring.

jon, who isn’t blind and is absolutely done with them, practically forces robb to talk to rhaenys. he doesn’t care what happened, he just wants the two of them to get over themselves and stop being so insufferable. also rhaenys made one of the goldcloaks cry and no one quite knows how that happened.

so they talk. and robb apologizes for kissing her, which rhaenys is quick to tell him is absolutely ridiculous, she’s the one who initiated it and besides, it was just a kiss.

well, that one kiss turns into quite a few more.

there aren’t really words for what they are to each other. if she were anyone else, robb would probably ask for her hand, but she’s the princess of the realm, not some petty lord’s daughter. and rhaenys doesn’t want to think about putting a label on them, because that would mean thinking about how the two of them fit in the future. and since they aren’t betrothed and king’s landing isn’t dorne, no one can know about their…. whatever.

then rhaegar starts bringing up the subject of rhaenys’s betrothal again. aegon isn’t on the table, since he and margaery tyrell are all but promised to each other at last, but perhaps willas tyrell would do, or maybe harry hardyng in the vale. lady paramount is a perfectly acceptable role for the sister to the future king.

(robb isn’t mentioned as an option. he might be of the right status, but relations between ned and rhaegar are still quite frosty, and the realm still doesn’t quite see the north as equal to the southern kingdoms.)

rhaenys knows, intellectually, that she must marry someday. and really, willas tyrell and harry hardyng are just suggestions. she could always look for a second son for a husband, so she could stay in king’s landing. but she doesn’t want to marry a stranger, and she doesn’t want to leave the city, and the only person she can think of is her cousin quentyn, and arianne would kill her if she married quent.

robb learns about the discussions for rhaenys’s hand from rumors floating around the court. and really, he shouldn’t care who rhaenys marries, it’s not like they’re anything more than good friends who kiss sometimes. or at least, that’s what he tries to tell himself.

he’s not very good at convincing himself.

“marry me,” robb blurts out. rhaenys stops dead in her tracks. “what?”

rhaenys says no. winterfell is about as far as it gets from king’s landing, and she does not wish to be sent away to a frozen wasteland where she knows close to nobody. there is so much she can do at court, so much change she could help affect, and she cannot do that in the north.  

she explains this all to robb and he shrugs. “we could stay in the south.”

rhaenys is not often surprised. this makes it twice today that she has been struck speechless.

robb does not like court, as she is quick to remind him.

“no, but i like you.”

they talk late into the night. the sun is starting to peek out behind the treeline when rhaenys says yes.

(the issue was not that she did not wish to marry robb. quite the opposite. but if she is to be a part of the politics of realm, she cannot do so effectively in winterfell all the time. so they talk, and debate, and eventually a plan is drawn up for where they will reside.)

of course, this is all dependent on rhaegar and ned accepting. robb’s time in king’s landing is drawing to a close, and so he returns to winterfell to ask for his father’s permission. rhaenys goes to talk to rhaegar and elia.

rhaegar is surprised, to say the least. elia, who has been quietly watching her daughter’s flirtation-turned-courtship for the past months, is not. in the end, the discussion is rather short. robb stark is heir to one of the great houses, and the iron throne desperately needs better relations with the north. there’s little to oppose.

ned, on the other hand, is more reluctant to bind the starks to the royal family so officially. he loves his nephew dearly, but he cannot forget the circumstances under which jon was born. but robb seems to care for this southron princess, and catelyn is right, they cannot try to stay out of southron politics forever.

robb and rhaenys are married in the godswood at riverrun, halfway between their families’ castles. for the wedding of a royal princess and the heir to the north, it’s a surprisingly lowkey affair. but robb hardly notices much other than rhaenys, resplendent in dornish silks, and rhaenys for once lets herself forget about the politics and the future, and just lets robb lead her around in a sloppy rendition of the bear and the maiden fair.

(robb is not a great dancer, but he is definitely an enthusiastic one. rhaenys thinks it’s charming.)

it isn’t easy all the time. splitting time between winterfell and king’s landing means endless amounts of travelling, and they aren’t always in the same kingdom together. there are fights, and long nights working, and sometimes the politics at court get to be too much for both of them, but for all their differences, robb and rhaenys love each other. and maybe that’s all that’s needed.

god this got long, and this is really only a sketch of what that scenario would look like. maybe i’ll write a proper fic for this universe sometime, we’ll see.

thanks again anon!

[cnc-hoebayb]

How’s that taste?

Aahhh sorry i haven’t posted any good content in a minute, but i got some more coming luvs

This is like a Joel x Reader for y’all, but also dedicated to my long lost twin @la-saffron 😘

Lmk what u all think!! <3

.

“I have a surprise for you,” you stand back facing towards your apartment door, blocking the entrance with a big smile on your face.

“Alright,” he watches as you lean against the door, anticipation eating at you to open it now. “I’ve never heard anyone say there’s a surprise before it even happens so that cool,” he comments sarcastically and you grab the keys, eager to get the door open.

“Shut up just get in,” you grab his hand and yank him into the room, trying to capture his reaction as he observes the scene. Your apartment together was small, but you somehow managed to get in all the decorations and props squeezed in perfectly.

He covers his face with his hands like a little kid and laughs. He reaches out to touch small plastic palm trees and admire the precise printed cutouts of paper monkeys draped through them.

“You’re so extra, dude..” he stares at you with wide eyes, making his way through the rest of the apartment. The bathroom is beach themed, big colorful towels covered the door and floor, and the bathtub filled the slightest bit with water and some kinetic sand you found at the store.

“I ain’t cleaning that,” he says as he sees the mess. “Cállate, just keep going,” you lead him into your bedroom. You had printed some almost perfect beach and jungle views and taped them to your walls, trying to make it look like they were outside the window.

Everything else looked pretty traditional. You had gotten some things his Abuelita gave you guys, and laid them out across the room. A thick colorful blanket covered your bed, papel picado was draped from the walls, and small figurines were strategically placed on your dressers.

His smile was soft as he noticed all the familiar items. “Baby, what is all this??” He pulls you into a hug and kisses your head.

“I know how much you wanted to go to Mexico for your birthday, and then plans got messed up from life,” you started and sat on the edge of the bed, patting the sides of it next to you. “So i brought Mexico to you instead.”

He walks to you on the edge of the bed and stands you up in front of him. His hands wrap lightly around your waist, linking back with each other once they meet behind your back. He gives you a dreamy kiss on the lips and rests his forehead on yours.

“I love it,” he says and squeezes you close. “It’s the most tedious and dramatic thing I’ve ever seen in my life...but i love it.” You push him back a little and make him sit on the bed.

“Oh you thought this was it?” You say in a commercial ad voice and he giggles. “Wait, there’s more..” you zoom out of the room and go to grab the last surprise.

“Aw nooo wayy” he gasps as you bring it in. “I had to call your mom and make sure i made it right,” you say and set it on the small table beside your bed.

He’s basically drooling and doesn’t take his eyes off it. “No mames güey,” he reaches a finger in to take some frosting. “Tres leches is my shit,” he closes his eyes and groans as the frosting hits his tongue.

You stare at him unbelievingly, “damn maybe i should give you and the cake some privacy.” He ignores you, ready to just dig in with his hands with purpose. You quickly reach out to stop him and his sneaky hands.

“Can you at least open your present first, then cake??” He pouts and gives the biggest puppy dog eyes he can. “Finneee,” he whines and crosses his arms with a huff.

“Hold on, ummmm,” you search around the room for something you needed. Your eyes lock to Joel’s head and you find an alternative. “Alright, no peeking,” you say and he jumps a little as you quickly drag the bandana from his forehead and place it over his eyes.

You tighten it up and grab his face in yours, whispering sternly to him. “No matter what happens, you don’t take off this fucking blindfold,” he laughs at your reference to the movie you both just watched and plays along.

You leave him and go grab the small gift box from your closet. “Okay dont take it off yet, but here it is,” you say and get the gift situated in front of him. He must’ve taken that as an invitation to grab it, so you try not to lose it as he accidentally reaches out and takes a handful of cake instead of the box in your hand.

“Aww shoot,” he holds his arm out, trying not to get the mess anywhere. You laugh a little and try to help him. “Joel wait, no-“ your attempt to help turns into a lost cause when he blindly swings his body towards you, splashing some cake onto your hands and arms.

“Yikes,” he says from behind his blindfold and reaches up to take it off. “Don’t do that,” you grab his sticky hands and bring them out in front of you. “You’ll get it in your hair,” you continue and look around for something to clean yourselves with.

“Did you look.... there!” He laughs as he slaps his hand right into your face, knowing how much of a mess he just made on you. You lick your lips, clearing not even half of what he left on you off.

He’s smirking from his seat on the bed, bandana still over his eyes. “It’s on,” you lunge at him with a handful of more cake and smash it on his cheek. He tries to fight back but can’t see any of your incoming moves.

He uses his strength to push you off of him, then using his hands to trace your body and find your face. Once he reaches your mouth, he tries to shove loose crumbs he scraped off his own face into yours.

Your fight is useless compared to the force he has over you. So you decide to take him off guard. His hand smashes into your cheek with a fistful of frosting, and instead of backing away, you grab his hand and pull a finger into your mouth.

He stops out of shock and you swivel your tongue around, clearing the sticky mess off him in an instant. He’s quiet as you then slowly slide his finger out of your mouth, running your tongue across the length of it the whole time.

He doesn’t move an inch, and you watch his lip twitch a little when you test his limits by licking a stripe up his palm. He gulps hard and you smile as his expression hardens.

You know you should be focusing on his birthday and the rest of the gifts you got him, but-

Seeing him just sit there, blindfolded and somehow with all of his cocky yet shy boy tendencies surfacing right before you... what the hell, who wouldn’t want this kind of surprise on their birthday anyway?

You take the initiative and nudge him back a little, making room at the foot of the bed for you to comfortably sit on his lap. He’s caught off guard for sure, nervous laughing all while settling you down on him with firm hands.

His hands roam the air trying to find your face but instead end up on your neck, sticky fingers and all. Long, frosting covered fingers slide upwards, almost inviting you to put them back in your mouth as they brush across your lips.

You kiss at those strong digits and this time take in two, watching as his mouth quivers open. He takes his hand back and feels for your lips with his instead. He tastes like sugar and you want to taste more.

You travel down and kiss at his neck, licking up in spots where it needed to be cleaned. He held back a small whimper and you push him back onto the bed. His shirt was already on him barely buttoned, so it was a breeze to open it fully.

His curls bounced in front of his blindfold bandana, little strands matted together with cake. You were surprised at his ability to keep it together and not unblind himself yet. You shimmied your butt into his crotch and felt the heat rise.

And like that, there was no way you could wait any longer. “Take it off,” you say as you start to unbuckle his pants for him. He leans up on his elbows and yanks the bandana off, eyes already low and full of lust.

“I have another idea..” he jolts up in an instant and throws you down onto a pillow. He grabs the same bandana and before you know it, your eyes are being covered. You don’t fuss or put up a fight, just let it happen, and immediately your other senses feel heightened.

He tightens it from behind your head, making sure not to tangle your hair or get it stuck - god how could he be so damn cute at times like this.

When his hands finally leave you, the sound of his pants being undone further leads you to start undressing as well. He stops you before you could take more than your shirt off, softly capturing your hands in his, and silencing you with a kiss.

You feel his body leave for a second and you lay there in anticipation. When he comes back, the first thing you feel is his fingers gently painting something onto you. Starting at your neck, down past your breasts, and finally ending right below your stomach and above where your pants settled.

Without warning he brings the same fingers to your mouth, inviting them in himself. You take them in and realize they were covered with more frosting. You lick them clean and hear Joel hold back a low noise.

You blindly reach out to touch him, tangling yourself within his curls at the back of his neck. He starts to leave open mouthed kisses along the trail of sugar, using his tongue to help the process.

His tongue laps at your skin in long intervals, working his way lower as you writhe under the touch. A soft whine escapes your lips and he reaches the end of the line.

You feel his tongue stop right above your belt, his strong hands now taking their time to remove the lower half of your clothes.

The air hits your exposed legs and it’s agony to not see his face. He’s silent and you don’t know what his motive is, where he’s looking, or even how much of a mess you probably look right now.

The next thing you feel from him is his now naked body on top of yours. You clench your legs together tightly, wanting to get some friction from anything, you couldnt help that you just wanted it all now.

He settled your legs around him, his dick resting right on your thigh. He takes the tip in his hand and gently rubs it through your folds, everything already a slick mess.

And Joel was never a vocal kind of guy in the bedroom, but with your eyes trapped shut and every other sense at its best work, you could hear the small falter of his breath. The way his voice caught in his throat as he felt you out.

You bucked your hips up into the action, signaling to him you were ready. And without need for anything else, he slammed into you with a purpose. The impact pulls a squeal from you and you feel it deep in your gut.

He stops there, adjusting the both of you to find the most comfortable angle. When he lifts your left leg up a little, you hum with pleasure as he hits something different.

That sound alone is enough to tell him where to keep going. He throws that same leg over his shoulder, for sure testing your flexibility to the max. Your thighs burning as they spread farther apart.

He pumps into you at a now steady pace, knowing exactly how you like it after all the years and experience you’ve had to practice together. He was never too rough, always afraid to hurt you or go too far.

He leaned in as close as he could to your ear, whispering through airy pants, “ta’ bien, amor? You like that??” You nod shyly under his body and feel a quick surge of electricity run through you.

Every thrust into you makes your eyes squeeze tighter together from behind the blindfold, a continuous rhythm of ecstasy. He suddenly lifts your hips off the bed, driving in deeper at another level.

His strokes were short yet fulfilling, he never needed to be too rough, he always got the job done in the best way he knew you wanted. Which at this moment, was with every inch he could manage to fill you with.

After a couple minutes passing, he was able to catch on to the expressions of your face and gauge what to do more of. He let your leg off his shoulder and helped wrap them around his middle. At this point your entire bottom half was lifted off the bed as you felt him shove all he had into your core.

Your hands grasped at the sheets beneath you and you clench your jaw. A long drawn out moan from you fills the room and Joel shudders from above.

“Joel-“ you mutter between thrusts, “dont stop- ooh- just like that.” His body tenses a little and his fingers dig tighter into your skin.

“Take it off..” he groans and you’re so lost in the feeling that you almost forget the fabric over your eyes. “I wanna see you,” He edges you on and you take no time to snatch the bandana off and toss it to the side.

Your eyes adjust to the dim lighting and the sight of him after all that time is heaven. The frosting in his curls finally dried over, little splotches still plastered over parts of his face and neck.

His face is concentrated and there’s a small sheen of sweat on his forehead. The veins in his hands and forearms pop and his bottom lip is being crushed by those pretty front teeth.

You look down to see him entering you time and time again, causing you to throw your head back a little to hold yourself together. Your jaw drops open to a soundless moan, and he finally locks eyes with you.

He drops your hips down and uses his pent up strength to lift your back off the bed. Your chest is flush with his and he presses his forehead to yours, noses slightly brushing, lips only a short distance away.

You help match his work while in his lap and ride him fast, chasing after your orgasm desperately.

You rise up one last time and his hands slam you back down onto him fully once more. Your walls tighten around him, feeling that throbbing heat from him about to explode. A scream wants to break free from your throat as the wave hit you, but nothing comes out.

Joel lulls you through it by resting his lips against yours, letting your soft whimpers get caught between you both. Your eyes focus on each other as your body starts milking his own climax.

He sighs heavily against your lips as his thrusts seize, spilling every last drop deep inside of you. You watch as his eyes gloss over, the spark of lust still burning bright as ever.

He holds you to him tightly, the both of you trying to keep the feeling of each other longer. Your neck and cheeks are showered with soft, tired kisses as his dick softens inside of you.

You climb off of him slowly, reciprocating to the affection as he lays next to you on the bed. He kisses your nose and stops there to rest his cheek on you.

“Damn if that wasn’t just it, i can’t wait to see what the actual present is,” he jokes and you scrape a piece of cake off his eyebrow.

“Well lucky for you because part of your present is now a replacement,” you glance at the scrap of cloth that was once a perfect, pretty little bandana, now covered in sugary mess. “I think that one has a new purpose to it now anyway..”