#wanted to make his face like. less. perfect? as in he has a crooked nose and not perfect skin

[shmorp-mcdurgen]

Doodle of Seth, slightly changing his design

[jinwoosbabyboo]

In My Little Black Dress

The LADS Men have seen you in your long flowing dresses, but there was something about the way you looked in this particular dress that hugged your curves ; showing off those legs that they dream about being in-between. Artist @/osk_purinnumee on twitter

‼️MDNI MDNI MDNI‼️

Zayne ♡

Storyline: He couldn't help himself after seeing you in that dress.

"Can you zip me up?" Such an innocent question.

Zayne sat frozen starring at you; his expression giving away nothing. His intense stare caused you to start second guessing whether or not you should wear this dress. "I can change"

"No!" He cleared his throat after his sudden outburst. "No you look beautiful" He stood from his seat on the bed raking his gaze over your body continuously as he circled around behind you. "Just ... perfect" His breath ghosted over your neck as he planted a soft kiss while his hands slowly zipped your dress up.

He spun you around, taking your hand and stepping back to admire you. "I love this dress on you" His voice as soft as silk. Your stomach immediately erupted with butterflies. "Thank you" you whispered back looking away to avoid his piercing gaze.

Before you knew it Zayne was leaning down placing the softest kiss on your lips. His kiss quickly grew hungry as he moved lower, grazing his teeth along your jaw and planting wet kisses down your neck.

"Zayne..." your voice nothing more than a breathy moan. "Hmm?"

"We ... we have to go the award ceremony starts in thirty minutes" He continued his assault on your neck littering kisses as his hands roamed your body. "I need you now" He couldn't help himself seeing the way that dress perfectly hugged your curves while propping his girls up just right.

He backed you against the wall before dropping to his knees and throwing one of your legs over his shoulder. You shot a hand out pushing his head back. "Zayne we can't we have to go"

His breath was ragged as he rubbed his nose against your already wet panties before looking up at you through his lashes. "Please" He begged; his breath ghosting over your pussy sending shivers up your spine.

You couldn't help but give in giving a subtle nod and soon after he pulled your panties to the side and took his time with a long languid lick before devouring you like a man starved.

Rafayel ♡

Storyline: No self-control when it comes to you. He has to have you now in the middle of his Art Exhibit.

Rafayel swore you were teasing him with the dress you decided to wear tonight for his latest Art Exhibit. He couldn't take his eyes off you; watching your hips sway and the way you pulled the hem down when it rose almost giving him a nice view of your ass.

He refused to let you leave his side. He was either holding your hand or wrapping his arms around you from behind. "You look so beautiful baby" He whispered in your ear as he slid his hands up and down the front of your dress. "We should get out of here, go somewhere less noisy"

"This is for you Rafayel we can't just leave" He pouted at your answer as he dropped his head into the crook of your neck. "I don't like that answer" A quiet gasp left you as you felt him grind his hardening length against your ass.

"Rafayel!" You whisper-shouted whipping around to glare at him. As soon as your eyes met his you were shocked at how red his cheeks and ears were. You rolled your eyes and exhaled hard; looking around to make sure there were no prying eyes you turned back to Rafayel as a smile stretched across your face. "There's a private room-"

"I know ... I'll be quick .... I don't want to be, but I will be" He cut you off and swiftly tugged you out of the packed venue making his way to the back stairs. Rafayel yanked the private door open pulling you in slamming it behind the two of you and claiming your lips in a heated kiss.

His kiss was breathtaking; you gasped as you felt his hands bunch up your dress and quickly slip into your panties. Rafayel was incredibly skilled with his fingers. He dipped two fingers into you making you tremble as he massaged that spot. "Right there" you moaned between kisses; he moved to you neck as you threw your head back against the door in bliss. It didn't take him long to coax an orgasm out of you.

He smiled against your neck as he pulled his fingers out making you whine. He fumbled with his belt and zipper quickly pulling out his dick that stood hard & red. You were always shocked at how big Raf was it almost seemed like it wouldn't fit.

Not giving you time to catch your breath he slides his hand down your thigh lifting it up and hooking your leg over his hip as he sunk into you with an audible whimper. He lifted your other leg as well; you instinctively locked your legs around his waist as he pounded into you at a ferocious pace.

"Raf- ah!" He slaps his hand over your mouth. "Shhh you have to keep quiet beloved"

Xavier ♡

Storyline: Made it all the way to the Annual Hunters Ball (Yes I made it up get off me) never even made it out of the car.

Xavier had top tier self-control unless it came to you. The minute he saw you in that tailored gown with a slit to show a little leg he was a goner.

"One more just one more" Xavier whimpered against your soaked cunt. He was currently buried between your legs in the backseat of his car. Thank goodness his windows were tinted otherwise everyone would see you splayed out for him with tears running down your face.

"Xav I can't" You whimpered trying to push his head which only caused him to hold your thighs tighter and flick his tongue faster on your overstimulated clit. "You can do it cum on my face"

Such a dirty mouth for someone with such an innocent looking face. Those deep blue eyes gazing up at you watching your every reaction to his tongue had him so hard he could cut diamonds. You arched into his mouth feeling another orgasm crest letting out the sluttiest moan that didn't even sound like something that would come from you.

Xavier continued to lick and suck catching every drop as you came down from your high. Flattening his tongue so you could grind out the last bit of your orgasm before slumping against the door.

Xavier sat up freeing his painful hard-on from his freshly pressed slacks that were now ruined with his pre-cum. "You can't go in with stained pants"

"That Hunters Ball is the last thing on my mind right now" He said as he lined himself up running his tip through your slick before sinking into you slowly. He shivered as he sheathed himself in you inch by inch "Fuck you have heaven between your thighs babe"

Sylus ♡

Storyline: He has to keep one hand on you or .... maybe two fingers in you.

Sylus was doing great. He held his composure from the house all the way to the auction. Which wasn't easy watching your hips sway, ass bounce, and tits jiggle as you ran around putting on your last touches of makeup, jewelry, and redoing your hair twice because you didn't like how your edges looked with the first style.

The dress you had on left just barely enough for the imagination while simultaneously being classy. Sylus couldn't help but at least keep one hand on you.

Long tablecloths were draped over every table giving Sylus the perfect idea. You two sat at a table towards the back of the venue and as soon as the lights dimmed to begin the auction you felt Sylus hand slide up your left thigh. "I'm right handed Sylus my knife is on the other side" You whispered to him.

"I wasn't looking for your weapon Princess" He whispered as his hand inched towards the apex of your thighs. You took a sharp inhale as his fingers brushed against the lining of your panties. "You're already wet sweetie ... in a place like this? How scandalous" Your breathing became ragged as he slid your panties to the side and dipped two fingers into you. He stroked your G spot causing you to cover your mouth with your fist to keep from making noise.

"Sy-Sylus" You moaned as you leaned forward pretending to be interested in what the auctioneer was saying. "I'm gonna cum if you don't stop"

He flattened his palm giving your clit more stimulation. "Then go ahead ... cum on my hand" He leaned over making it look as though he was just whispering in your ear when in reality he gave your ear lobe a soft nip before sucking it between his lips. That sent you right over the edge. Soft whimpers fell from your lips as you dripped all over his hand.

Sylus pulled his fingers out giving you a cheeky smirk before stirring his glass of whiskey with his fingers that you just came all over. "Now that's a one of a kind drink"

[jjackdawed]

The Jade Winglet

you are welcome to use my designs as long as you credit me :)

design notes:

Moon is a dark almost greenish black color, and has a silver almost diamond shape on her nose and chest. Hatching under two full moons, she has a teardrop on the back corners of her eyes as a mark of her mind reading abilities, and a smaller front teardrop as a mark of a seer. She is remarkably large for her age, a trait she got from her father, but is still one of the smaller members of her winglet.

Not much about Winter's design. He is stocky, has clusters of darker scales on his face, a darker nose, and is remarkably shiny even by IceWing standards. He continues to wear the earring from Qibli, claiming he doesn't trust Darkstalker's magic to be entirely gone without it, when in reality he secretly likes the connection to Qibli and his winglet.

Peril is very large for a SkyWing, and is the tallest of the winglet. Shes very muscular and her scales are abnormally bright and shiny in comparison to the other tribes. She is almost iredescent in the sun and practically glows. She has VERY large, unblinking eyes that are a startling shade of blue (an eye color already uncommon in the Sky Kingdom) and is known for intensely staring people down without meaning to do so. Despite being firescales she is covered in small scars from brief nicks in battle before her opponents perished.

Turtle is very short and stocky in build, and is the shortest of the winglet as he carries himself very low to the ground. Hes very freckled and alongside the golden armband he wears gold stud earrings. His horns are twisted and almost silvery, a trait he shares with every animus dragon. He bares a striking resemblance to his ancestor Fathom, however he is shorter and stockier than he was.

Qibli is lanky and awkward in appearance, with long legs and a thin, gangly body. He is unkempt in appearence, with crooked teeth and freckles and scars covering his body from his rough up bringing in The Scorpion Den (the scar from Cobra being the two slashes on the front of his nose) and is surprisingly tall, taller even than Winter, but because of their differences in posture (Winter's being perfect to a T and making himself appear much larger than he is and Qibli's being nonexistent) he appears much smaller than he really is. Like all SandWing’s, he has a darker patch under his eyes to help with seeing in intense sunlight.

Umber looks very similar to Clay in appearance, with hazel eyes and warm scales. Unlike Clay, Umber is significantly smaller and thinner in frame and is covered in large freckles. He has a lighter patch on his chest, his ears are long and hang down, he has a long scar on his snout and neck, and his right horn has a blunted tip from the battles he fought in the war.

Like Umber Carnelian shares many scars from the battles she fought in the war, most notably being the chunk missing from her left ear and the several long slashes across her face. I like to think that had Carnelian lived longer and Umber remained in the winglet the two of them would’ve become close friends, and eventually Carnelian would’ve become protective of the other dragonets in her winglet.

I struggled getting Kinkajou’s colors right; i wanted to make her bright and include her iconic pink/yellow scales, but i wanted to make her less neon and have more believable tones down hues. I also wanted to include some orange and reds to show her more fiery side.

[sanspuppet]

This was actually a request from an anon but i accidentally deleted it instead of posting it 😭 my bad anyways i still want to rewrite it hoping the anon will look at my last posts 🥲

imagine laying on your bed, just chilling after a tough day, listening to music while chatting with your best friend. You're quiet surprised when you see that San has sent you a text (because you live together and there's only a wall 10 inches thick that's dividing you two) if you were previously smiling innocently, your mouth hangs open as you see the blurred preview and noticing that it's probably a picture of his bare chest. Your phone takes less than two seconds for downloading it, you open immediately the photo, admiring his perfect body.

At first, your eyes are locked on his red nipples, they then dived to his temporary tattoos (that you have always found incredibly hot) before literally widening at the sight of his defined abs. He was flexing his left arm, accentuating the bicep, the other one was resting on his lower abdomen, and it's when you follow it with your gaze that you notice his cockhead popping out of the edge of the photo. It was of a cherry red, leaking with precum and that’s enough for you to make your legs shut, feeling your cunt automatically dripping wet. You’re a giggles and whines mess, you bite your wrist to hold back any scream. It’s quite embarrassing that your legs are shaking, making you kick your feet euphorically.

“Oh my god he’s so sexy~” you murmur, not long after you notice the door opening, San half naked, with only a pair of boxers covering him, heading towards you.

“You seem enjoying, i watched you” He’s on top of you, your body’s between his strong arms as he’s holding onto the headboard.

“What? Oh my god such a pervert” you roll your eyes, locking them again to your phone screen that’s still showing the picture.

“You like it tho”

San gets closer to your face, his nose almost touching yours. You blink a few times, waiting for him to go ahead and do whatever he has planned to do. He attaches his lips to yours, biting your lower one to make you open your mouth and start making out properly. His tongue is trailing wet line all over your neck, before biting softly on them. You’re fingers are carding through his hair, forcing him not to pull away. San whispers in the crook of your neck, as his hand is groping your side hip:

“I took that pic 5 minutes ago, i need you. now.”

[fettuccin-e]

Forever Feels Good

A/N: So yeah. its more santi smut. I rewatched triple frontier recently and yknow how oscar and pedro look absolutely scrumpdiddlyumptious so i had to write some happy, domesticated santi because HE DESERVES SOMETHING GOOD

Description: Sometimes, Santi can't believe that he's actually yours, that you're his. And, as a good husband, he just wants to make his beautiful wife feel good. (w/c: 3.1K)

Tags: Santiago "Pope" Garcia x reader, afab!fem!reader, Santi really likes that she's his wife, pretty domestic, alcohol consumption, oral (r!recieving), unprotected piv (pls wrap it up irl fuck them kids), breeding kink like quite a bit of breeding kink i may have a problem

Santi sometimes forgets that he’s actually married to you. That it’s his ring on your finger, that he lives in a home that the both of you share. 

There’s a part of him, a big part, that looks at you and knows that you’re too beautiful to really be his. With your bright smile and glittering eyes, smoothing out his rough edges and giving something to live for again. It doesn’t feel real, even after years of being married, introducing you as his wife to all of his coworkers and friends, fixing up a house you bought together, living a perfect little white picket fence life that Santi had only thought was a fantasy while in Delta.

He watches you with rapt attention across the bar, grabbing your fruity drink from the bartender while you chat with Frankie at the pool table.

You’re laughing hard to a story that Frankie is telling, Santi’s beer clutched in one of your hands while you brace the other on Frankie’s shoulder. Your cheeks are flushed, your eyes are crinkling at the corners with your grin, and Santi can’t imagine anyone more perfect. 

As your laughter eventually dies down you gaze at Santi across the room, probably unaware that he was already staring, and the breath is nearly knocked out of his lungs as your eyes meet. Your wide smile melts into something softer, intimate even in a room full of people, and his already weak knees want to give out.

He forces himself to walk on shaky legs across the room, setting your drink on your table, fingers itching to touch your soft skin. He spins you around when he reaches you, pinning your back to his front and wrapping his strong arms around your waist while he tucks his face into the crook of your neck.

Your perfume is strongest there, the smell of you invading his senses and swimming through his desperate mind. He vaguely senses Frankie walking away to talk to Will, but he couldn't care less at the moment. Not when he has his wife in his arms, your hair tickling his nose and you giggle echoing in his ears.

Santi presses a kiss to your neck, unable to help himself. “Look so pretty tonight, princesa. Y’wanna let me take you home?” he murmurs quietly into your ear, hearing you suck in a soft breath.

“I don’t know how my husband would feel about that, handsome,” you giggle, and he tugs you just a little bit closer.

“C’mon, baby, I’m sure he won’t mind one bit,” he chuckles lowly. “Can’t let a pretty thing like you go without being taken care of like you deserve.”

“Hm,” you sigh, leaning back against his strong body, “you drive a hard bargain, don’t you?” You reach a hand back to wind your hand into his hair, tugging him up to meet your lips in a sticky kiss. “Promise to take care of me, baby? I’ve been told that I can be greedy. Gonna need you to make me cum as many times as I want.”

Santi feels lightheaded, his vision blurring at the edges. “Fuck, hermosa, anything. Anything you want, you’ll get it, promise I’ll-”

“Hey, lovebirds!” you hear Benny call from the pool table, stick clutched in his hand. He’s disarmingly loud even in a room full of people, your head snaps ahead from Santi’s lips, and you can feel the groan rumble in your husband’s chest at the loss. You smirk to yourself involuntarily, pride blooming in your chest at the fact that you’re the one that can bring Santiago Garcia, ex-military grump with a will of fucking steel, to his knees with a something as simple as a little kiss. 

“You guys gonna get a room or what? Think of the kids!” Benny continues, laughing. Frankie chuckles with him, Will smacks him on the back of the head.

“Turning a little green there, Miller!” you fire back, smiling all the while. “Been a while since you got any? Celibacy is not a good look on you, man.” Frankie laughs harder at that, and even Will chuckles, and it’s Benny’s turn to smack his brother on the back of his head.

You turn your head again to whisper up into Santi’s ear, “As much as I hate to admit it, he might be right.” You shift your hips back, just a little, pressing your ass tight against the bulge of his dick in those tight pants he always wears. Santi curses. 

“You wanna get out of here handsome?”

“Please,” Santi groans, and you laugh softly at his eagerness before you’re grabbing his hand and walking him to the door of the bar, nodding a goodbye at Frankie as you do.

He’s on you the moment you walk through the door of your shared home, pressing you hard against the door with a thick thigh between your legs, pressed tight against your hot cunt through the material of your panties under your skirt. He licks into your mouth like he’s starving for it, like he’ll never get to again, like it’s not the cold metal of his ring on your finger, pressed against his cheek as you cup his jaw.

“So, so fucking pretty for me hermosa, my god. Got everyone in that bar looking at you, but you’re mine, yeah? My wife, fuck-” Santi says into your mouth, choking on the last word, bucking up into you. 

“Bed, Santi, please,” you whine, head spinning with the taste, the smell, the feel of him under your fingertips. Six years of marriage, and you’re both still obsessed with each other the same way you were when you both first met. Clutching into each other like the other will disappear at any moment, like every second together has only been a wonderful dream. He grins into your mouth before taking your hand again, breaking into a jog through your little house and into your bedroom, the both of you giggling like teenagers.

You make him feel young, Santi thinks, laughing into your mouth as he lays you gently onto the mattress. Even with his creaky knees and graying hair, you manage to make him feel young. He presses himself against you, and you mewl, your hips moving in desperate little grinds against the bulge in his jeans. 

“Santi, please,” you choke, gasping softly as his zipper catches on your clit through your panties. You’re clenching around nothing, suddenly so unbearably empty that you could cry from it.

Santi shushes you gently, running his hands under your shirt, rucking it up over your chest. You raise your arms to help him along, and Santi wastes no time in divesting you of your shirt. He tosses it behind him carelessly before leaning down again to lick into your mouth, utterly addicted to the taste of you. 

There’s something about Santi that brings out this part of you, this desperate, needy part that you’d never felt before knowing him. He makes you feel ravenous, animalistic as he towers over you, kissing you like a man possessed.

You reach down to grab his shirt in a fist, shoving it up his stomach until he finally smiles against your mouth, breaking away from your kiss to yank his shirt off, tossing it in the same direction he threw yours. He moves down, trailing hot, sticky kisses and bites to your neck, your collarbone, right between the valley of your tits. 

His thick hands curl around your back, his calluses scratching along your soft skin, raising goosebumps in their wake as he unclasps your bra, dragging it down your arms and leaving you bared to him. It should feel vulnerable, exposed, but you hear Santi groan softly under his breath at the sight of you, and you feel anything but vulnerable. Fuck, you feel powerful, stunning under Santi’s burning gaze.

He sucks one of your nipples into his mouth, swirling his tongue over it feverishly while his other hand, warm and rough, tweaks the other harshly. You can’t help how your back shoots up, how a choked moan escapes your throat. Your hands tangle in his hair, a terribly sexy mess of grey and black, holding him to your chest.

“Fuck, oh God, Santi, Santi, need you so bad baby, please. Please,” you mumble, your mind already hazy as Santi switches nipples, his eyes closed and lost in you. He brings his free hand down, down, under your skirt, and presses a thumb harshly over your clit through your panties. The friction of the cotton is harsh against your throbbing clit, but Santi rubs quick little circles into you, reveling in the whines that escape unbidden from the back of your throat.

“So fucking pretty, princesa. Mi amor, god, mi vida. You’re my fucking life, you know that? So gorgeous, angel, and all mine. Fuck, can’t believe you’re mine, baby.” Santi mumbles against your skin, finally releasing your nipple from his mouth. He continues peppering tiny kisses down your stomach, staring up at you as he does. His mouth doesn’t leave your skin even as he brings his hand up from your clothed cunt, tugging your skirt and panties down your legs. You can feel how soaked you’ve gotten, the way your thighs are slick with your arousal.

“Fuck, hermosa, what’s got you this wet, huh?” He grunts, his voice gravelly and rough.

“You, Santi, it’s all- it’s all you. Since the bar, baby, since before the bar. Fuck, always want you, Santiago, ‘m ready for you all the time.” You tilt your hips up with your words, your entrance throbbing and so desperate for his touch.

“God, bebita,” Santi groans. “Such a fucking slut, huh? You would’ve let me fuck you right in that bar, yeah? Just let me tug you into the bathroom and fuck you as hard as I want. Would've done it too, sweet girl, you get me so fucking hot. In these,” he presses a hot, open-mouthed kiss to your inner thigh, and you twitch as you feel him breathe a warm gust of air right over your desperate pussy. “In these fucking little skirts you like to wear, god. Got the sexiest girl in the fucking world, yeah? Everyone wants you, but I’m the one who gets to have you. I get to have you for the rest of our lives, mi amor.” He’s so close, so fucking close to wear you need him most. “I get to fuck this sweet pussy for the rest of our lives, baby,” Santi breathes.

You nearly scream as he licks a long stripe up your cunt, lapping up some of the mess you’ve already made of yourself. He sucks your clit into his mouth, sucking at it hard and unrelenting. The sensation of it is almost too much, and your thighs clench around his head quickly, before Santi brings a hand up to grab at your inner thigh. He pulls you apart, keeping you spread for him as he licks and sucks and plays with you until you’re already shaking. He keeps you spread with only one of those strong hands, pressing his tongue harshly against your sensitive little clit, and you suddenly feel the thick presence of his other hand, a calloused digit sinking slowly, so slowly into your cunt.

“Santi, Santi, oh fuck, Jesus fucking Christ baby, it’s so- shit, it’s so,” you can hardly get the words out, especially as he crooks his finger up and presses it against your g-spot without any trouble. Santi groans against your clit, sinking yet another finger inside you along the first.

You should be used to it by now, after so long together, but every single time Santi fucks you, it’s like he’ll never get to do it again. He throws himself, his mind, body, his fucking soul, into only making you feel good. It’s nearly sacrilegious, how he worships you, praying with his tongue at the altar of your body.

But it’s not enough, not when you know how it feels when he’s inside, not when you’ve been thinking about his thick cock stretching you out until you feel like you’re about to break. You tangle a hand back into his hair, tugging him harshly away from your pussy. He keeps his fingers inside, spreading you apart as he looms over you, meeting your lips in a sticky kiss. His lips are sticky with your arousal, but you can’t bring yourself to care, gasping, “Please, baby, Santi fuck me, ‘m so empty, need to be filled up, need you to stuff me full.” 

Santi grins, smug against you as he presses a third finger into your tight cunt, relishing in how your body jerks hard in response. “Just a little longer, baby,” he mutters, “Gotta make you cum first, right? Wanna feel this pretty pussy clench around my fingers, fuck baby, you’re so sexy. Want you to cum, princesa. Cum like you fucking deserve.”

You choke on a gasp as he hammers hard into you, overwhelmed tears filling your eyes as he abuses your g-spot with a practiced hand. You can feel your orgasm building inside, threatening to drown you in it’s severity, as Santi leans down again, whispering harshly, like it’s a threat, “Be a good little wife for me, baby, and cum. Now.”

And you can’t do anything but that, whining high as your pussy clenches and gushes all over Santi’s hand, your hips jerking wildly. Santi is murmuring little praises into your ear, but you can hardly hear him over the ringing in your head, the effort it takes to breathe properly again. 

“You okay, mi amor? Need to stop?” Santi whispers, petting his hands across your thighs, calming, but your eyes snap open all the same. 

“Santiago Garcia, if you leave me here without getting fucked, I’m filing for divorce.”

Your statement shocks a quick laugh out of your husband, but he leans down to kiss you all the same. “So greedy, mi amor,” he murmurs into your mouth, and you giggle as he stands quickly, shucking his pants and boxers off before kneeling between your spread legs again.

You gasp softly as he notches the head of his cock against the entrance of your abused cunt, winding your arms around his neck to tug him close. He presses in slowly, agonizingly slow, and you gasp against his mouth. 

You’ve had Santi for years, but taking his cock always feels like the first time, all over again. He groans so lowly it almost sounds like a growl, holding your hips up to meet him as he finally bottoms out inside you. So deep he feels like he’s in your fucking stomach.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking wet,” he groans over you, his eyes clenched shut. He draws his hips out and shoves back in quickly, and you can’t do anything but gasp wetly, nails digging into his shoulders as he breaks you open around his cock. “So tight for me, always so fucking perfect.”

“So big, Santi,” you slur dazedly. “Stretching me out so good, it’s so fucking deep, baby.”

“You like me deep, bebita? So deep I’m in your fucking guts? Gonna fill you up, princesa, shit. Get through that fucking birth control, yeah? Get you,” he fucks into you again, hard, “get you fucking pregnant, sweetheart.”

“Oh God,” you whine, mind swimming with the overwhelming mixture of Santi over you, surrounding you, inside you. Fucking you full of him, enough to render your IUD useless, get you pregnant no matter what. “Fuck, Santi, please.” He works himself in and out of you, his thick hands holding onto your hips hard enough to bruise.

“You want it, baby? Want me to fuck a baby into this little pussy? Shit, you’re sucking me in baby, so fucking desperate for it.” He shifts closer, just a little, lifting your hips further into the air to throw you hard onto his cock, and he can’t miss your sweet spot like this. His perfect cockhead just jams into your g-spot at an angle like this, and Santi knows it. “My needy little wife, you wanna cum on this cock? C’mon, do it. Wanna see it baby.”

Tears are finally escaping, leaking slowly from your eyes as Santi fucks into you like only he can, practiced, harsh, unrelenting. You can faintly hear yourself babbling, a mixture of praises, and pleases, and Santi’s name. 

Santi brings a hand from your thigh to press a thick thumb to your over-sensitive clit, and you want to fucking scream. “C’mon baby, show me how good I’m giving you this cock. Show me how good I fuck this pretty pussy.”

“Yes, yes, yes, it’s so good, it’s so fucking good, gonna cum, oh god, gonna give you a baby, Santi, oh god, oh my fucking god-” you gasp, unable to get a full breath into your lungs before you’re cumming again, nails digging hard enough into Santi’s back that there will be marks, marks that Santi will tease you about later when he looks in the mirror, but you can’t care. Not when it feels like your body is on a live wire, muscles and nerves strung taught and pulled apart.

“Just like that, sweet girl,” Santi groans above you, his hips stuttering into you. “Fuck, just like that, so fucking tight for me. Fuck, you’re mine,” he mutters, barely even speaking to you at this point. “Can’t believe you’re fucking mine, mine forever.” 

He’s lost in it, muttering to himself, and you tug him down, trying to ground him back to Earth against your lips as you whisper, “yours.”

Santi kisses you hard as he cums, emptying himself inside you. He wraps you in his strong arms, the both of you shaking softly against each other as you breathe through the aftershock of both your orgasms. He slips out of you at one point, and Santi takes the opportunity to roll you onto your sides. It’s quiet between the both of you for a few minutes as you brush a hand through Santi’s sweaty curls, and he brushes a thumb over your cheek, wiping any tears away.

“Love you so much, Santi,” you whisper after a while, and Santi smiles wide, wider than he ever had before he met you.

“I love you too, baby, more than I can describe.”

“Do you- do you think we could start trying? For a baby?” you whisper, tentative. There will be a bigger discussion tomorrow, about the future, especially if you throw children into the mix. But you need to know, for now.

“Mi amor, mi cielito,” Santi whispers, pecking you softly on the lips. “I would love nothing more.”

[flutterby-bog]

Some additional headcanon notes nobody asked for, but this time in an overanalyzed format:

Scars

He's got a few scars on his face and a slightly crooked jaw from when it got broken when Bog was still a teen. The same group of goblins that did this had shattered his mother's horns in an attempt at taking the throne by force. These scars and battle damage are all that remain of those goblins.

Height

It's subtle, but Bog's torso segments can extend and retract due to a vestigial adaptation which insects use for breathing. Since he does not have an insectoid respiratory system this has only ever been used for changing his height for any reason. As demonstrated below:

A tall Bog is a confident Bog. When he's insecure he will shrink (either by hunching or drawing himself inward). The difference changes his height substantially. Even at his shortest, at least while standing upright, Bog still towers over Fairies.

Respiratory System

Bog has a large pair of fairy-like lungs inside his chest cavity, perfect for flying with such a heavily weighted body and belting out extended notes for long periods of time. His chest has additional segments that evolved over several molts to allow for efficient contraction/expansion of said lungs.

Vascular System

Has red blood, and a similar pulse to a Fairy, though the pulse is slower and a little louder. His normal level of blood pressure also sits higher than a fairy's. This leads to occasionally related headaches but otherwise does not seem to affect Bog's health.

Skeletal and Muscular System

Has a fusion of both internal and external skeletal systems throughout his body with exception of his torso, which is primarily exoskeleton, and his head, neck, hands, and feet, which lack exoskeletal plating.

His muscles do exist, but they are mostly on the inside of the exoskeletal parts. They are only visible in exposed areas like the underside of his forearms, where his legs connect to his torso, and his neck.

Along his lower legs and his jaw Bog has spurs of bone that sticks out. For insectoids these spines function as tactile receptors and additional grip. For Bog, these are just sensitive and drive Marianne wild for some reason he can't exactly fathom.

Motor Control

Bog has a lot more voluntary control over his body than a Fairy does. His feet are basically another pair of hands with an extended heel and are only slightly less dexterous than his hands. If he wanted to play the piano with his feet, he could easily... If he ever wanted to learn piano, anyway.

He also has individual control over his wings and various segments of his body, especially the ones that are along his shoulders that look like natural pauldrons. Bog likes to flex those in particular to make himself look more intimidating.

Sight

Bog's able to see more in the violet and UV spectrum than a Fairy can. Also exceptional night vision. Take Marianne's wings for example...

Normal Fairy Vision sees visible light.

Bog's Vision - This is what he was seeing the whole time. Well, at night anyway. When the sun came up he got the UV spectrum on her wings too and well, he was already a goner anyway.

Smell

That big nose of his isn't just for show. He's got a powerful sense of smell, which is why he will habitually breathe through his mouth sometimes or he just would get overwhelmed with the amount of scents nearby. Especially if he has to visit the Fairy Kingdom in Spring. Way too many flowers and perfumes.

Diet

Pretty much the same diet as a fairy except he eats meat in addition to the fruits and plants that a fairy can ingest. Does not enjoy overly sweet flavors like honey as much as Marianne does. Prefers spicy. The exception is tea. He very much enjoys tea.

Insectoid Related Habits/Instincts/Misc

Grooming. He'll dust off his wings frequently by running his arm against them.

Damaged wings. His wings are permanently damaged from being attacked. He will never get new ones.

Molts. He molts far less now but when he was younger he would frequently molt.

Puberty. Did not always have wings. Did not have a cocoon stage but over a period of several molts started growing his wings.

Betrayed emotions. If you know how to read his body language, you can look past the grumpy face. When he's nervous, his wings will pulse in successively. When uncomfortable/embarrassed/anxious he will get very fidgety. When angry, involuntarily rattles (ch-ch-ch-ch noise) his wings and shoulder segments. His expression might look "angry" when he's actually not. Sometimes it's just a mask (unless he's rattling then for peat's sake, Thang, get out of the way! You should know better by now...)

Jumpy. Loud noises/vibrations/quick movements will startle Bog, causing him to involuntarily flinch/jump fairly easily. Beware his fast reflexes, though. Just because you make him jump doesn't mean you got the jump on him.

Goblin Related Habits/Instincts/Misc

Dominant posturing. Goblins in general have a very strict social pecking order. The strongest lead and just because Bog's father was King of the Dark Forest doesn't mean he got the throne by birthright. In the Dark Forest you have to earn the respect of your people. And that means if a goblin wanted to usurp Bog, they could definitely try. It wouldn't end well for them, though.

Oh, somewhat related to the above, but Marianne's sucker punch may have initially ticked him off, because technically that was a challenge. His initial move was going for a big "F-you" with his staff, but you know why he went back a second time? To show off. Because he found it hot.

Protective drive. Goblins are pack creatures and fiercely loyal, and this includes Bog even in a position of leadership. Sure he might smack Thang around because the little moron irritated him, but the moment someone from the outside starts smacking Thang around it's over for them. Bog's little put-put swing on Thang is nothing compared to the heavy golf swing he'll do on the idiot who tries to mess with his goblins. (The mushrooms got the full golf swing but trust, they are fine. Bog knows what will/wont hurt someone.)

Fairy Related Habits/Instincts/Misc

Singing/Music Magic. Fairies have magic that can turn any stick, light source, or noise into music while they are in the vicinity. Bog prefers a different kind of music than most fairies seem to enjoy, but he still possesses this magic nonetheless. Goblins do not usually sing, but they'll play instruments or do some back-up vocals for the fun of it.

Heart on the sleeve. This is a weakness Bog actively goes out of his way to suppress, but he really is a romantic deep down, as most Fairies have a tendency to be. Sure-sure he says he hates love, but then has a soft spot for Dawn's boutonniere gift that he can't quite explain. It's the fairy in you, Bog. It's okay.

Blooming Magic. Bog can touch a fern and make it unfurl, same as Marianne can. He can also make sure venus fly traps get the nutrients they need even if he snaps them shut just to walk on them for absolutely no reason other than showing off for Marianne. The magic fairies use to bloom flowers basically is just giving the plant nutrients it needs and speeding up the blooming process.

[krisdreaming]

Hi! If you're still looking for fall ideas, what about getting some sweet warm drinks with Ushijima...and he gets a little whipped cream on his nose... 🥺🥺

Omg of course, this is soooo cute 🥺 I think I got a cavity writing this. The fact that it's been in the 90s F the past few days where I live is irrelevant, shh.

(ps to the other fall requests they're cominggg I promise!!)

Pairing: Ushijima Wakatoshi x gn!reader

WC: ~900

You've been having a wonderful time with Wakatoshi at the pumpkin patch, picking out the perfect pumpkins to carve later and sampling all of the delicious treats. Still, the autumn chill has begun to settle in, and you're starting to feel it in the tips of your toes. You nonchalantly hug your arms around yourself for a few moments, trying to produce just a little extra warmth without making it too obvious. Wakatoshi still notices, though.

"Are you getting cold?" He asks, his hand at your back as he dips down so his soft question can be heard above the din of the crowd.

"No," You say quickly. His brow crinkles into a slight frown, and you laugh softly. "Well, just a tiny bit," You amend. It's rare that you get to do things like this with your boyfriend, so you want to make this day last.

"Hmm," He hums, then reaches for your hand, tugging you back toward the food stalls. "I think I saw hot chocolate at one of these stands. Would that help?" He asks as you walk.

"Definitely," You grin. "That sounds really nice, actually." The thought of the creamy, warm cocoa already has you feeling a bit less chilly. When your turn comes up, Wakatoshi orders two cups. The woman smiles. "And would you like whipped cream?" Wakatoshi merely glances at you, and you nod quickly.

"Yes please!" It always makes the last few swallows the best part. Soon enough, she presents two steaming cups of cocoa, dolloped with whipped cream and topped with tiny pumpkin sprinkles.

"Sorry, Toshi," You nudge him gently with your elbow as he scans the area for an empty table. "I should've asked for the whipped cream only on mine." You know he doesn't care for overly sweet things, and the cocoa alone is more indulgent than usual for him.

"It's fine," He shrugs as you take a seat at a nearby table. "It'll be nice for a treat." His lips quirk into a smile, and you can tell that he means it.

You draw in the aroma of the sweetened steam, and soon lift your cup to your lips for a careful sip. When you finally look back at him, you realize he must have done the same. It takes everything in you to stifle your laughter. That perfect dollop of whipped cream is now partially smeared on the tip of his nose. He seems oblivious to it, which makes it even more adorable.

"What is it?" He asks with a frown as your giggle slips out.

"Toshi," You crook your finger, "Come here."

"Why?" He asks slowly, but he does as you beckon, leaning across the table until he's in reach and you can swipe the cream off his nose with your fingertip.

He jerks backwards slightly, frown morphing into a look of surprise at your sudden movement. "You got a little on your nose," You laugh, displaying it for him for a few seconds before popping it in your mouth, enjoying the sticky sweetness.

"Oh," He murmurs, the slightest tinge forming high in his cheeks. "Thanks." He lifts his own hand and scrubs at his nose, inspecting it to be sure he'd gotten all of it. "Is it gone?"

"Yes, it's gone," You assure him, taking another sip of your cocoa. Maybe you should've captured a photo before you cleaned it off, you think belatedly. You can't keep the smile from your face as you admire him across the table. "It was cute," You add teasingly.

"Oh?" He shakes his head slightly, a smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "Well then." He takes another sip, tilting the cup far enough that it will certainly tip more whipped cream onto his nose, and it does. "Maybe I should leave it," He muses with a twinkle in his eyes.

"Toshi!" You blurt in a peal of laughter, lifting your hand to your lips before any cocoa can spatter out. "I can't believe you just did that!" Soon he's chuckling too, the sound sending tendrils of warmth through your middle. It's not often you get to see your boyfriend acting silly, and you want to savor it.

He finally swipes the whipped cream off of his nose, and you settle into a comfortable silence as you both continue sipping your drinks. You're glad he seems to be enjoying the day. It had been your idea, and part of you was worried it might be boring for him, but the smile on his face tells you it had been well worth it.

"Oh, hold still." He says suddenly, and he reaches out to steady your face with his fingertips as he swipes at the corner of your lips with his thumb. "There." He nods. "You had a little bit of cream stuck there," He explains.

"Oh, thanks," You wipe the back of your hand quickly across your mouth. "None on my nose, though?" You ask with a teasing grin. "Am I clean?"

"None on your nose," He agrees softly, eying you more critically. "But..." Instead of responding, his fingers are back at your chin. Before you can react, he leans across the table, slightly tilting your face as his lips press to the corner of yours.

"There. Now you're clean." He looks a little too pleased with himself, and you? You certainly aren't feeling cold at all.

[toriisasimp]

Chapter 4 of ?: Don't Get Caught

An Egon Spengler x fem!reader mini-series!

-

Prompt: Your suit has arrived! Everyone is so thrilled to see you as an official member of the team, especially Egon. He is anxious to show you how he feels.. and later formulates the perfect plan to get you alone.

Warnings: SMUT AHEAD! Other than that, nothing!

A/N: Egon in this chapter got me blushiiiiin. Y'all are not ready. Or maybe, if you're a sexually frustrated young adult like me, you are! Minors DNI. Enjoy!

-

That evening, Janine decided to surprise you with your suit- a smaller khaki jumpsuit, and your embroidered name tag. The sight of it hanging up made you grin, giggle, and jump around for a few seconds before you got ahold of yourself.

You now stood inside the sleeping quarters, with the door shut. You zipped up the suit and stared at yourself in the bathroom mirror for a moment, letting out a sharp exhale as you smoothed the fabric over your legs. 

Your boots clambered on the wood floor as you approached the bedroom door, giving it a gentle knock.

“You guys ready?”

Peter, Ray, Winston, Janine and Egon were all seated outside of the room- awaiting the reveal of your suit. Janine wanted to see it on to make sure it fit, and thought the guys might want to see it as well.  

“Come on out, potato sack!” Peter whooped.

“It does not look like a potato sack, Pete.” Winston nudged him. “..On her, at least. Now, on you..”

“Oh, shut it, Zeddemo-“ Peter was quickly cut off by the door opening and you stepping out. In your combat boots, belt, and jumpsuit- you truly looked the part. You nervously smiled and smoothed out the fabric again.

“Does it look okay?” It was then that you assessed everyone’s reactions.

Winston and Ray were smiling proudly, both nodding in agreement.

Peter whistled, looking you up and down.

And Egon.. well, Egon was bright red, his hands clasped in front of him. 

Before you could say much else, Janine walked over, adjusting the collar. “It’s not too big here, is it hun?” She tugged on the sleeves.

“Oh, no no. It fits like a glove.” You say with a smile, and she raises her hand to pat your cheek. “Good. You look great.” She then steps off to head back downstairs.

Winston gave you a polite and approving nod before stepping away, Ray coming up to pat your shoulder and compliment how well you looked.

“Got anything on under there, princess..?” Peter chuckles and approaches you, and you put a hand up, blocking him. 

“Shut up, Peter. You’re gross.”

“I’m just being honest!”

You roll your eyes and he blows you a kiss before moving around you to step into the bedroom.

Your eyes fall to Egon, who is staring back at you. Hungrier, this time. Less bashful. 

A small smirk plays on your lips as he begins to B-line towards you, and you take a few steps back, before he grabs ahold of your wrist and tugs you into a storage closet behind you.

The door shuts and its pitch black, but you feel his hands run over your waist, down your thighs, his face finding its place in the crook of your neck, leaving kisses and marks there.

You breathily giggle, your head falling back as your fingers run through his curls, messing them up. 

“Egon-“ You breathe out.

“Look at you.” He murmurs, muffled by his face being buried, and you lift his head, holding both sides of his face and looking him in the eyes.

“I know.” You whisper, before he smashes his lips against yours, hands wandering desperately- soft pants and whines leaving you as he feels you up, your hands find their spot on the collar of his shirt.

“Not here, we-“ You giggle. “Could get caught..” He kisses you consistently, and you only have moments to speak when you pull away to breathe.

He pulls away, your noses brushing as he speaks lowly. “Does it look like I care?”

His sentences makes your heart flutter and you feel like your skin is buzzing. 

“They could walk in.”

Egon huffs. He doesn’t lean back in, but keeps his hands on you.

“We..” One of his hands lowers, resting on your inner thigh. You hold your breath. His lips are right at your ear. “..Are not done here.”

You playfully shove him off and laugh, re-zipping up your suit after he somehow managed to get it halfway undone. “You're so gross.” You laugh.

“I simply want to please my woman.” He says with a wink, before gripping the handle of the door and swinging it open to step out, leaving you breathless.

The sentence he left you with makes you blush, and you look down, shuffling in your boots for a moment before stepping out after him. Thankfully, nobody was nearby.

The rest of the day, the two of you are eyeing each other, trying to remain casual around the others. You were just wondering when he was going to pounce.

That night, you’re laying in bed, and he’s in his- you can tell by the breathing you hear behind you. The tension could be cut with a knife. But eventually, you both doze off.. dreaming of.. things.

-

The next day was a normal work day, taking a few calls around town with Ray. You returned back to Egon that evening with a sample of some more slime, and you took note at how swiftly the other guys left.

Holding the small tub of slime, you watch as Ray and Peter swiftly pack up their things for the night and head for the stairs.

“Hey, where are you guys heading off to so quickly? I was thinking we could order in-“

“Ah, I promised Dana I’d stay home with Oscar while she went out with some friends-“ Peter excused himself.

��.. And I’ve got.. things.” Ray waved a hand around, making you furrow your brows. “Goodnight, kid!” Ray said as the sound of the front door shutting could be heard.

“What the hell?” You murmured, turning around slowly and seeing Egon at the workbench next to the microscope.

“Bring that over here, please.” Egon spoke up, engrossed in tending to one of his many spores. 

You huffed and walked over, doing the procedure of putting some of the slime on a slide and putting it under the microscope. “Any clue what that was all about?” You ask, before leaning over to look into the microscope.

Egon shrugged, eyes flickering over to you looking at the slime. He wrapped up his work on the spore, before moving to stand behind you, arms coming around on either side of you to adjust the knobs to make the picture more clear.

“Better?” He asks softly, and you reply with a silent nod.

As you’re examining the slime, mumbling some random observations and information about it and how you got it, you feel Egon’s presence remain behind you, and his hands move from the knobs to rest gently on your waist.

Your talking slows for a brief moment, perhaps he’s just moving around you, you think. But no, his touch doesn’t falter.

“Keep talking.” He speaks slowly, giving your waist a gentle squeeze. Your breath catches in your throat as he pressed his front flush against your backside, making one of your hands brace against the edge of the workbench. 

You obey his direction, continuing your explanation of the slime. You hear the tub of slime next to you gurgle, but you can’t see it because you’re still focused on the microscope.

You shiver as his fingers tease the skin right under the hem of your shirt, and you finally raise your head from the microscope.

“Egon-“ You whisper, straightening up enough for your back to be pressed against his chest. He takes the opportunity to walk you both forward a few steps, caging you in between him and the workbench. 

The slime reacts, gurgling and bubbling again.

You then notice his lab coat has been abandoned, and his button up sleeves have been rolled up as his arms move to wrap around you, his face burying in your neck.

“Was this your plan all along? Get the boys out so you could-“ You breathe out a laugh, one of your hands lifting to tangle in his curls.

“You said you didn’t want to get caught, right?” He asks, voice muffled slightly as he pressed kisses to your neck and jawline. “Now, I can finally touch you..” His voice trails off as his hands move to lift your shirt slightly, running over the skin of your stomach. Your knuckles turn white against the workbench, and you swallow hard to keep down a whine.

As his hands trace over the waistband of your jeans, your hips buck accidentally, and a barely audible whine forms at the back of your throat, and you can hear him chuckle lowly behind you. The slime bubbles.

“You’ve been thinking the same thing too, haven’t you?”

All you can do is take a heavy breath, and you feel your senses heighten as he unbuttons your jeans, and smoothly slides a hand in.. lowering down to tease a hand between your folds.

Your jaw drops, head dropping forward and hand flying to hold his wrist. He follows your movements, keeping his chest flush against your back, lips by your ear. “There she is..” He murmurs.

A soft moan finally escapes you, as he begins to circle your clit- and you swear you can hear him moan along with you.. feeling something pressing against your backside. Christ.

The slime bubbles so much it begins to overflow, onto the workbench surface.

Your head tilts back, resting against his shoulder as your fingers keep hold on his curls, the other on his wrist. “Right there-“ You bite your lip.

“There?” He intentionally moves away from the spot that had you shaking.

“No-“ You whine, and it brings a chuckle out of him. He finally moves his fingers back to the spot and slips them in, beginning to pump them in and out. 

“Egon-!” You moan out his name, and it’s like music to his ears. His cheeks are flushed, and he can feel himself harden against you as he gets you off.

“You’re close, I can feel it.” He whispers against your ear; and it makes you shiver, hand tightening around his wrist. After a few more pumps of his fingers and kisses on your neck, your climax washed over you, making your head fall forward again, hand slipping away from his wrist to brace against the counter. The slime container had tipped over, spilled all over the workbench. You whisper out his name a final time, chest rising and falling quickly as you catch your breath.

“Good, very good..” He murmurs, removing his hand from your pants and fixing them back up. “Very good results..” 

What you don’t see is him licking your juices clean off his fingers, and adjusting his own pants before his arms wrap around you from behind, more gentle this time.

“Conducted another experiment there, Doctor Spengler..?” You ask hazily. 

“Mm.. or perhaps I just wanted to finish what I started.”

You snort. “Yeah- that’s for sure.” Your eyes flutter shut, turning in his arms to wrap yours around his neck, and rest your head on his chest.

He laughs along with you, you can feel the vibration of his chest. “You should go lay down. I’ll order us food.” He says softly, pressing a kiss to the top of your head and swaying gently.

“Mm.. Chinese?”

“I was thinking Thai.”

“Or maybe Mexican?” You glance up at him, and see him smiling down at you.

“Mexican it is.” 

You nod at your agreement, and step away to shuffle off to the bedroom, to change into something more comfortable.

The evening concluded with a feast of Mexican between the two of you, winding down with some sudoku (that Egon aced, and took you half an hour to finish one page), and both of you eventually went to bed.. sharing the bed for the night since the other occupants had went home.

He curled up behind you, falling fast asleep. You made sure to take off his glasses for him and set them on the bedside table, since he always forgot.

You felt sleep tug you under, as you felt safe in the arms of your favorite scientist. 

-

<3

[bigbadivy]

Chess Partner

Rival had that glint in his eyes, she noticed, the one he recently has when they play.

"Things don't look too well for you, don't they?"

The perfect, still, poker-face Heroine mastered kept away any information he tried to get.

"That is what you have said last time."

He frowned a bit, but his eyes kept their shine.

"So you do have a plan..."

"Hopefully."

"Then I shouldn't eat your knight..."

"If you doing this is in my plan."

Rival leaned in and squinted at her. Sometimes, just sometimes, he was too dangerously cute. Heroine hated to admit that to herself, but the way her lips urged to smile at his sight left no doubt.

"So you DO want me to do this...!"

"You can try to interogate me all day, or actually think for yourself."

Hero almost let out a chuckle as she answered. He pouted again, adding a frown and a crooked nose. She finally let out a laugh, dropping her straight face.

"You're a pleasure to play with..."

Rival was quite for a moment, his smile was... It has never been that soft. God her heart beat so fast.

"I can say the same for you."

He blushed a little and looked away. Scratching his scalp, Heroine used the distraction to take mental notes.

He brushed his hair, which she doesn't remember him doing in any other day they met. A warmth grew in her as she hoped that she read the signs right. His clothes were nicer, too. He replaced the usual seeatshirt and sweatpants with a polo shirt and jeans. The shirt's sleeves were shorter, which was nice and...

He has a scar. Right at the back of his forearm, barely noticeable.

"That's it. I'm not eating that. It reeks with a scheme."

Hero knows that scar. And she knows that man. Villain grinned at her.

"Knew this was your plan. Scared now?"

She immediately returned her poker face.

"Plans change."

She played her move quickly and quietly. Villain took some time but made finished his turn.

"I'm gonna win this time, I can feel it."

Hero didn't respond or banter back. She didn't say anything for the next few turns, no matter what he tried to do to tease or make her laugh. He grew more worried each turn.

"Hey ummm..."

She needs to finish this and think of the next step. This was her chance to catch him once and for all.

"You good?"

Looking up, she noticed his worried expression. It was completely geniune when she smiled and reassured him.

"Yes, just got lost in thoughts for a bit."

He smiled back.

"I actually had something weighing on me too, mind if...?"

"Go ahead."

He took a big breath. That moment, she knew what was about to happen. What she wished one of them will be brave enough for. She wished for this ever since they first played her. Ever since he truly challenged her. Ever since he took his loss with a laugh and adoring eyes.

"I know we only ever meet here to play, and that I have annoying jokes and... And an annoying self..."

Even the dread she felt didn't stop her from chuckling.

"But I like... I don't know... This. Playing wit- Even when you win. So you I thought..."

The fact that she knew of his identity didn't stop the butterflies she felt. Making her wish he was who she sees now. Just a softhearted, clever guy she met at an urban chess.

"We could go get ice cream aft-, or something less childis- I mean... Well you-"

This is her chance. Even if not for love. She showed him the best smile she could master.

"How about coffee tomorrow? I know a perfect place."

A coffee shop 50 meters away from a police station. It will be easy.

He smiled shyly and let out of all the air he held in his lungs.

"Sounds perfect..."

His blushed and relieved face turned her stomach. Imagining how he'd look at her tomorrow, when he'll realize who she really is.

But now Heroine must forget about it. She'll smile and laugh and be happy, genuinely happy, that they like each other.

They were chess partners, and she can't allow him to guess her next move.

[ladycatofwinterfell]

Devotion

Summary: He loves his wife so dearly and still he has loved Robert for as long as he can remember. He despises Robert for knocking on their door so late at night and yet he follows him outside

Did someone say nedbert fic? Did someone also say nedcat fic? Probably not but that’s what I have for you. Enjoy!

Catelyn’s skin was so soft as he kissed it. He could feel the smell of her hair as he nuzzled her nose into the crook of her neck. The sweet, somewhat flowery scent. The scent of his lady.

The way she flushed red as he kissed her, it never grew any less lovely. Starting at her cheeks, travelling down her neck and over her chest. It rose and fell with every breath she took, increasing in speed as her breathing quickened. Quick, shallow breaths escaping slightly parted lips. Perfect lips.

Her eyes gleamed as he opened her robe, let his lips run down her chest. Gently he kissed every inch of her that he could reach, ran his tongue over every mark and line that bearing their children had left on her, listened to the way her breath hitched as he hit a spot she liked particularly much. He lingered there until her hands in his hair forced him lower. She had only so much patience.

He placed a kiss just beneath her navel before standing upright again, looking into her eyes.

“I do love that stomach of yours” he told her.

The lines that had turned almost silver since Rickon’s birth never ceased to strike him as the most beautiful thing. He loved how soft all their children had turned her, how one could tell she had given him heirs.

“So put another child in it” she said, smiling. “It would be even more beautiful then.”

She took his hands, slowly backing towards the bed with him following. Never did she look away from him, never did her smile leave her lips.

As she sat on the edge of the bed he kneeled before her. For a moment he turned his face up, drank in the sight of her. Stronger than any wine he had ever tasted. Her hair falling over her shoulders, gleaming like fire in the light of the heart. Her flushed cheeks, her soft smile.

“My love” she sighed. “You are going awfully slow.”

“Am I?”

He placed a quick kiss on the inside of her knee. Barely had he leaned away again before she had woven her fingers into his hair once more. He expected her to bring his mouth to between her legs where she so clearly wanted him to be, but instead she leaned down to kiss him.

“Make love to me” she whispered as they parted. “Please.”

As he stood up and began to undress she shed her robe and threw it to the foot of the bed. Taking one’s clothes off required no large amount of intelligence, but his hands seemed to grow worthless as he looked upon his wife.

Though soon he was in her arms, settling between her legs. Was there a sweeter feeling than the pleasure of their bodies joining? Was there a prettier sound than Catelyn’s soft moan as he pushed inside her? Was there a more beautiful sight than seeing her tilt her head slightly backwards, her lips parted and her eyelids heavy?

The thought barely had time to disappear from his mind before someone knocked on the door.

“My lord, the king–“ began a soft voice.

Desmond was interrupted by a banging on the door so hard Ned for a moment feared it would fall of its hinges.

He heard how Catelyn drew a sharp breath beneath him, though not from pleasure. When he looked at her he noticed she had turned her eyes towards the door, looking at it like a frightened deer.

“Ned!” shouted a man on the other side.

There was no mistaking Robert’s voice. If only Robert had not been king. If only he had been the man Ned knew in his youth, the friend he had grown up alongside. If only he had been simply Robert.

“I know you’re in there!”

Catelyn had pushed him off her before he had time to move himself.

“What an honour to have the king knocking on my door” she muttered as she reached for her robe again. “I wonder whatever reason he could have for it.”

Ned had to walk naked through the chamber to take his own robe from the wardrobe. After having wrapped it around himself he threw a glance at Catelyn to make sure she was covered. She was once again sitting on the edge of the bed, that time with the robe completely covering her body and a rather disgruntled look on her face. Her hair was still somewhat messy from the pillows.

“Good evening, Your Grace” Ned said as he opened the door. “How come you knock on my wife’s chamber door so late at night?”

“I want to speak with her husband.”

Despite that it was so late at night Robert did not appear to be drunk. There was not even a slight slur as he spoke, he didn’t sway on his feet. During the king’s time in Winterfell he hadn’t been sober once, at least as far as Ned was aware.

It was strange to see him so calm after he had almost beaten the door off its hinges. Maybe he just didn’t know how to properly knock. There was so much force in him.

“Can we not speak on the morrow?” Ned asked.

He would rather go back to his bed and his wife. Most nights he spent with her he made sure they knew he would rather not be disturbed. Not always because there was something to interrupt the way Robert had, but because he enjoyed having a calm night with his lady. At that very moment all he wished was that Robert had respected what poor Desmond told him. It had been almost two weeks since he and Catelyn had last found peace enough to lay with each other.

“I’m the king and I want to speak with you now.”

“I’m sure my lady wife–“ he began, only to be betrayed by the lady wife in question.

Catelyn had left the bed and moved to stand beside him. He could feel her place a hand on his lower back.

“He’s all yours, Your Grace” she said.

Her hand on his back said something else. Though she had little choice. Robert was a king. Ned could protest because the king was his friend, she could not. He wished she had let him talk Robert out of it.

“Might he dress first?” Ned asked.

If he was to leave the chamber he wanted more clothes than a robe.

Robert looked at him for a moment, his eyes turning downwards as if he hadn’t really noticed Ned was wearing nothing but his robe.

“In this seven times damned cold you’d freeze your cock off if you didn’t. And we wouldn’t want that, would we, Catelyn?”

Ned was surprised at the chuckle that came from his wife at that.

“No, it would pain me” she said.

Catelyn had never been ashamed of particularly much, merely proper. Aware of how she presented herself without being dismayed at most everything. His sometimes rather bawdy lords had taken a liking to her quickly after she became their lady. And still Ned was taken aback by her reaction.

“Not more than it would pain me” he told her.

Robert laughed at that. His laugh was as loud and booming as ever, even as he wasn’t drunk.

If he had to choose there were other parts of him he would rather lose to frostbite. A couple of fingers he could do without, he’d like to keep his manhood.

“I’d have to dress in black for mourning” Catelyn said.

Once again Robert laughed. Ned could feel himself smiling, somewhat against his will. Catelyn gave him a look that tattled on just how satisfied she was with herself at the moment before drawing back into the room again. As he looked at Robert again he heard how she opened a drawer of her dressing table.

“Black never was my wife’s colour so to spare her from having to wear it I’ll get dressed” he told Robert. “I shall be with you shortly.”

“I’ll be waiting for you outside the keep.”

He only had time to close the door and turn back to face the room again before Catelyn’s lips were on his. One hand in his hair and the other opening his robe again.

“What are you doing?” Ned managed to get out.

“Twice he’s taken you from me, and soon he’s doing it again” Catelyn said rather firmly. “He can wait a little while, it will not kill him.”

“You want me to go south with him.”

Even before Lysa’s letter she had urged him to go, told him it was necessary. For the future of their house, for all it could give them, he had to go south. And after the letter it was to protect Robert and uncover the truth.

“I wish he had never come here, but I know you have to go. You couldn’t refuse his offer.”

He leaned down to catch her lips in another kiss. They had already spoken about it, he felt no desire to do so again. And it would be unwise to keep Robert waiting for too long. Catelyn seemed to agree with him.

The sense of urgency took the enjoyment out of it, at least for him. And he noticed as he tried to make Catelyn reach her pleasure with a hand that it took much longer than it usually did. The frustration was apparent on her face even after he managed to touch her in a way that made her come undone. As she pushed him to his back and straddled him it was hard to think of anything but that she didn’t look very satisfied.

“Catelyn, we don’t–“ he began.

If she didn’t want it he didn’t want to do it.

“No, I need it.”

He couldn’t remember it having been so bad since they grew close with each other. Since it had been so much more duty than pleasure. His body told him it felt good but his mind seemed to be of a different opinion, he had to focus to be able to come at all. Even as she seemed to use every trick she knew.

They stay joined for a moment after he had finished and Catelyn seemed to soften then. As she leaned down and kissed him before moving away. He was glad for that kiss.

Ned was silent as he dressed, his wife was just as silent. She pulled the furs over herself and turned her back to him, he would have believed her to be asleep if it hadn’t been for that her breathing was wrong. It had started so good, he had liked it so much, slowly taking in every inch of her. Then it had all been ruined. He felt somewhat filthy for a reason he could not say.

“I will not object should you wake me upon your return” she mumbled just as he was about to leave. “If that is your wish, of course.”

Usually those words would have him seeing the beauty of it before him. His mind spinning, dreaming of how he would come back to find her still wet and wanting for him, how he would take her again. He would most likely feel it later. When he came back knowing what she had promised him.

“Hopefully I won’t be long.”

The sky was clear above them, the moon and the stars watching over the castle. The clear nights were the coldest, whatever reason could Robert have for wanting to go outside? He had done nothing but complain about cold and summer snows since he arrived there.

Robert stood and looked up at the starry sky with a member of his king’s guard next to him. Only as Ned came closer to them did he see it was Ser Jaime. One could never escape the damn Lannisters.

“Robert” Ned said.

He had meant to call him by his royal title, but his name was what had escaped. It seemed he would never get used to it.

“Leave us, Ser Jaime” Robert said instead of greeting Ned in return.

“Your Grace, it is my duty to–“

“Ned, when was someone last murdered within your castle walls?”

Then Robert looked down at him, his eyes could have been stars. He had been so handsome once, what had happened? Was it the throne that had made him so or had it been inevitable? Was it grief over what had happened during the war that had made him resort to drinking? Or had he always been to fond of the pleasures of life?

“Hasn’t happened during my time as lord” Ned responded. “Not in my lifetime, I believe.”

Not that he could remember. Though there had been no kings to visit in his lifetime.

“And do you believe your people to be loyal to their king?”

He knew the people of his castle, almost as if they were his own blood. They wouldn’t harm a king, even a southern one.

“I do.”

“Listen to Lord Stark and leave us.”

The hand that rested on the hilt of his sword seemed to grip a little tighter.

“Yes, my king.”

The bitterness in Jaime’s voice shone through, at least to Ned.

Robert began walking away, seemingly without a clear plan as to where. Ned followed him, but glanced over his shoulder at Ser Jaime. He had moved to stand by the doors to the keep together with the household guards, seemingly opting to not go inside. He had to be cold in that armour, it wasn’t meant for the North.

“Cersei has started asking to return south sooner than planned” Robert told him.

“I’m not surprised.”

While she remained civil at least in front of Catelyn she had also made it no secret that she disliked the north. Too cold, too dull, too stern. Without colour and life. Ned would have taken offence if it hadn’t been for that many people of the south shared her opinion.

“She’s a thorn in my side, the golden bitch.”

“And still you need her.”

Robert might have disliked his queen, but she was still his queen. Her children were Robert’s heirs, the eldest would be king after him.

“I need her family’s money.”

That couldn’t be denied.

“Do you love Catelyn?” Robert then asked.

Was there another word for it? She was his Cat, had been so for years. He appreciated her company more than anyone else’s, didn’t see the appeal in other people’s beds anymore. She was the one he desired, the one he felt safe with. It had been that way for years.

“I do” he said.

After all their years together, after everything they had slowly built, how could he not? They had made children, given each other love.

“You didn’t marry her for love.”

“No, I didn’t.”

He had married her for her father’s armies. The rest had come later. Of course he hadn’t been happy about leaving her behind in Riverrun during the rebellion, she was his wife after all, but he hadn’t really missed her. When he left her to beat back the Greyjoys as she was expecting Arya it had hurt. He had missed her, spent the nights thinking about the day when he could be back in her arms again.

“When did you know it was love?”

Maybe during the Greyjoy rebellion. Maybe when she placed Sansa in his arms for the first time. Maybe when she kissed him after he told her he was to build her a sept. Maybe when he returned from the Greyjoy rebellion and they made love to each other from sunset to sunrise.

“You have an awful lot of questions.”

And Ned didn’t have an answer to all of them. When had he known it was love? He couldn’t say. He couldn’t remember the first time he had thought of that he loved her. He couldn’t remember first time he had told her he loved her. He just knew he did.

“It feels unfair you get to love your wife while mine gives me nothing but hell” was Robert’s response to that.

“You are free to love whoever you wish, you’re the king” Ned reminded him. “And your queen has given you children, they cannot possibly be hell.”

“You get to be happy in your marriage, you don’t understand.”

No, he didn’t understand. He was aware of that Cersei Lannister wasn’t as sweet as she looked, he understood Robert wasn’t happy with her. But the misery of their existence together that he had glimpsed during their time in Winterfell, that he didn’t understand.

“Your marriage to her certainly hasn’t stopped you from looking elsewhere.”

Ned almost believed the whores in Wintertown had grown richer than he was during the royal visit. According to Catelyn both Tyrion Lannister and the king were generous in their payments. She had overheard it from two of the women in the kitchen as she went there to search for Bran and Rickon. ‘Soon we’ll be able to raise the taxes without them complaining’ she had muttered.

“Though I will never share a life with someone worth loving. The fucking Targaryens took that from me.”

In the end everything always came back to Lyanna. No matter where they turned, no matter where they walked, it was always her. And even she was just a fantasy for him. She hadn’t wanted to marry him, especially not after he had his first bastard.

“You didn’t know her like I did” Ned said. “You don’t know what they took from you.”

He braced himself for the anger that would flare up in Robert as he said it, though nothing came. The fury of the Baratheons stayed calm.

“We should have been family, you and I. Not spend the rest of our lives apart from one another. You up here, buried beneath winter snows and I stuck in that city forsaken by the gods.”

As they turned around a corner Robert stopped and looked at Ned once more. A visible shiver went through his body and he wrapped his cloak tighter around himself. It must have been the largest cloak Ned had ever seen. Golden with a crowned black stag embroidered on it. A cloak for for a king.

“When you return to that city I’m coming with you.”

Not because he wanted to, but because he had to. He didn’t want to leave Catelyn and two of his sons behind in Winterfell, he would despise every moment of it. King’s Landing wasn’t where he belonged. Though still there was a small joy in knowing it would mean less of a burden for his friend. He had known Robert since they were boys, loved Robert since they were boys.

“That’s the only relief I have” Robert chuckled. “Knowing it will be you and I again. Gods, those were better times.”

“Well, they were certainly easier.”

Everything had been so easy. Spending their days doing whatever they wanted, taking every chance they got to drive Jon halfway to madness. He was sure Catelyn would have been wide eye and stuttering had she got to know half of it.

“Less of a charm to it now that Jon won’t be there to yell at us when we take things too far” he added.

“In his last years it was mostly the other way around, but damn I miss the man.”

And Ned hadn’t even been there when he died. It had been years since the last time he saw Jon Arryn. And now Jon Arryn was dead and all that remained of his youth was Robert.

“As do I.”

Ned looked up at the clear sky above them, at the stars. Did Jon look down on them from one of the seven heavens he had believed in? Did he know? Did he fear for Robert as Ned did?

Suddenly Robert had taken him by the arm and forced him to look down again.

“I’ll never let you leave me again, Ned” he said.

“Was it me who left you? I’m not the one who came out of the war a king.”

“You left me down south.”

“I became Lord of Winterfell, I had no choice.”

“You could have had a seat on my council.”

“And who was to govern the North? My boy of less than a year? My southron bride?”

“I don’t care, damnit, I care about having you by my side.”

“And I will be.”

Many years ago they had walked different paths and Ned had been sure of that he would never be side by side with Robert again. Though there he stood with Robert holding his arm. There was a desperation for in his eyes Ned could not recall having ever seen before. Anger, joy, grief, lust, fear, he had seen it all. But he hadn’t seen desperation.

There were traces of the beauty he had possessed in his youth still left in him. His eyes were the same, clear and blue. His hair and beard black as coal. As Robert held his arm they were so close to each other their breaths became one cloud between them when they looked at each other.

“Like when we were young” Robert said.

“Like when we were young.”

Except for that it was different, so very different. Or maybe it was Ned that remembered it wrong. Neither of them were shaven clean anymore, and Robert’s body against his didn’t immediately feel right. It could have been all the years with Catelyn that made it so. Though they were not so unlike each other, there was a hunger in them.

Robert moved his hands to Ned’s shoulders as they kissed, held onto him as if he would suddenly disappear. Ned didn’t know when he had grabbed the front of Robert’s clothes, burying his fists in the fabric, he just knew he was doing it.

He was the king’s man, was he not? The king’s hand. What was he to do if not serve? If not show Robert his devotion?

Before he knew it Robert’s hands on his shoulders had pushed him down on his knees. Gods, he was strong. Not as strong as he had been when they were young, but still enough for it to be impressive. Strong enough for Ned to be in awe.

It had been so long since Ned kneeled for a man. Since he had wed Catelyn he had stayed loyal to her, even if he in the beginning had been somewhat put off by the idea of her. She was a woman, he had never been very drawn to them. Though he had found that women worked as well as men, at least she did. She was the only woman he had ever been with. The only one he had loved.

Still he didn’t hesitate, moved his hands up to undo the laces of Robert’s breeches. With his gloves on it was somewhat hard, but he managed it. He knew neither of them could take off their gloves in the cold, but he would have liked to feel the roughness of Robert’s hands again.

He was already hard when Ned wrapped his hand around the base of his cock and took the tip into his mouth. The taste of salt as he licked off the fluid that had already spilled from him was somehow surprising. He had forgotten he somehow enjoyed it.

Robert grabbed his hair, forced him to take him deeper. He had to suppress the urge to gag, stopped for a moment to breathe through his nose so that he wouldn’t suffocate. He was rusty.

Though Robert didn’t seem to have anything to complain about. At least as far as Ned could tell from the sounds he made when he began moving his head. Running his lips and tongue up and down his cock.

Robert was rather rough, didn’t seem to consider Ned’s comfort at all, he didn’t care so much. He had always been rough, Ned had never minded. As he came close to reaching his pleasure he began thrusting into Ned’s mouth and once again he almost gagged. For a moment he wondered what it was that made him different from the whores of Wintertown then and there. Could it be anything but love?

“Ned” Robert groaned, tightening the grip on his hair.

Then Ned moved away, sitting back on his heels. He was out of breath as he looked up at the king.

“I’m too old to swallow” he told him.

His knees were aching. Soft snow covered the ground and still it hurt to kneel. His neck had also seen better days. Since last time he had grown old.

Robert finished himself with a hand as Ned found his feet again. As it was all over he felt cold. He had left Catelyn in her bedchamber only to go and do that. And while he couldn’t say he had not enjoyed it he knew it was all wrong.

“Too old to swallow, but the years have not taken your skilled tongue from you” Robert said, sounding just as out of breath.

“I have maintained it.”

He bent down to brush snow from his clothes. It had already began to melt, leaving wet patches on him.

Catelyn was also rather fond of his tongue and he didn’t mind using it. There was a pleasure in pleasing, in tasting and listening to what it made the other feel.

“I don’t know if I envy you or Cat more.”

Ned was fairly certain of that he himself didn’t envy neither Robert nor Cersei in the least. He missed Robert, he did. Though was it right? What he had done, was it the right thing? Most likely not. But then and there it had felt good.

“Why would you envy her?”

“Your hers, are you not?”

Ned had never known Robert to hesitate about taking what he wanted. Why was he saying that when he had already taken Ned? He was leaving his home, his wife, to serve Robert.

He couldn’t look at Robert any longer, turned his back to him. He waited until the king had laced up his breeches before he began walking back towards the keep. The night didn’t seem so pleasant anymore, the stars must have judged him.

Robert followed him, silent for once. All Ned heard was his heavy steps, the snow that creaked under his feet.

Ser Jaime was still standing by the doors to the keep, Ned didn’t look at him as one of the guards opened the door so he could enter.

“The bear, the bear, and the maiden fair” Jaime muttered as Ned passed him.

“Better that than a kingslayer.”

All the way up until when he was about to pass her door he was certain of that he was walking towards his own bedchamber. He could not join her in her bed after having pleasured the king with his mouth. Though she had to be asleep by then. He knew his wife, she had probably been asleep before he had closed the door behind him. He didn’t want to be alone. It was selfish.

Just as he had suspected Catelyn was asleep when he entered her chamber. Curled up underneath the furs, just as she had been when he left her. Lost in her peaceful slumber, unknowing. His wife, his Catelyn. What had he done?

He undressed as quietly as he could, did everything to avoid waking her despite that he knew she always slept heavily. Ever since Rickon no longer needed her attention at night she had been near impossible to accidentally wake.

He didn’t take her into his arms, merely slipped into the bed beside her and turned his back to her. It would have felt wrong to do so as if nothing had happened. Though of course he had barely settled before she had turned to him in her sleep and laid an arm over him, her hand resting on his chest. He couldn’t bring himself to push her away even as the betrayal hung over him like a sword above a doomed man’s neck. Instead he took her hand, weaved their fingers together, held them over his heart. The familiarity of it was almost overwhelming. How was he to survive leaving her behind in Winterfell?

“Too tired?” she sighed.

It took a moment for him to realise she was awake, that she was not merely mumbling in her sleep.

“Exhausted” he responded gently.

She moved even closer to him, pressed herself against him. Even as she had been beneath the furs she was cold.

“Me too.”

He felt how she placed a gentle kiss on his neck before letting her head rest against the pillows again. A moment later she had drifted off to sleep once more.

She had told Robert Ned was all his, that was most likely not what she had meant.

[caswellseyes]

Ooooo 12 for Willex? Have a good day, and good luck on the work, my dino bones bestie!!!

i was hoping someone would ask for this one!! tysm, dino bone bestie! i am indeed making good progress on the work - deadline one (big exam) was completed and deadline two (ba thesis proposal) is coming along pretty well. but first, it's willex time!

12. "How come you always end up in my bed?"

Alex sighs and turns over for the seventh time in two minutes. And no, that’s not an exaggeration. He’s counting. 

Look, he likes being on tour just as much as his band members. He loves being on stage and sharing their music with the fans. The meet and greets were scary, at first, but he’s gotten used to them by now and it is always cool to meet fans, though he’ll never be a little worried about disappointing them. It’s wonderful to go to so many places, to do some sightseeing between the work. All in all, he loves touring.

He does not love hotel rooms. 

Hotels in general are pretty cool. They have the little soaps you can take, and free pens, and hotel breakfasts are the best. It’s really fun to be just down the hall from his friends, and occasionally, to share rooms with them. 

No, the problem isn’t hotels. It’s just hotel beds specifically. And, even more specifically, the blankets.

Alex runs cold. This is not news to anyone who’s ever met him. His hands are cold and his feet are cold and yes, he wears hoodies no matter what time of year. It’s just a thing, okay? And these stupid thin hotel blankets do not accommodate for that. At all. 

He actually has an extra blanket on the bus that he brings to the hotels with him. It’s huge and soft, pink on one side and white on the other. It’s fluffy and warm and absolutely perfect.

And he forgot it on the bus this morning. It’s just him and his cold feet and hands and nose, somehow, against the world.

The shitty thin blanket the hotel provided doesn’t count. Alex doesn’t think that one’s on his side. No, it’s just him.

Well.

Not entirely.

Alex glances to the side, at the undisturbed lump lying next to him. Willie is snoring softly, the only thing visible the very top of his head and the start of the braid he put his hair in earlier. 

Yeah, that’s one more thing Alex loves about being on tour. Sharing a room, a bed, with his boyfriend every night. And waking up next to them in the morning, and going through their routines together, and everything else that comes with it. It’s domestic and fun and absolutely perfect.

And, perhaps most importantly right now, it comes with cuddles. 

Carefully, so he doesn’t wake Willie up, Alex shifts closer. He lifts up the end of Willie’s blanket – for some reason, they have separate ones in this bed – and slides under it. He tosses his own blanket on top of it for good measure. Then, Alex shuffles around until he can wrap his arms around Willie and pull their back against his chest. Then, once he’s comfortable, and already starting to feel less cold, he tucks his nose in the crook of Willie’s neck.

The snoring stops. Alex freezes.

“How come you always end up under my blanket?” A sleepy voice mumbles.

Alex feels a hand pat along his arm until it reaches his own hand, linking their fingers together. He squeezes softly.

“Sorry,” he whispers. Willie still sounds half-asleep, and the last thing Alex wants to do is wake them up completely by talking loudly. “I was just cold.”

“I could tell.” Willie chuckles. It’s followed immediately by a yawn. “We should get you a nose warmer. Like the ones for your ears, but then your nose. Or, like, a nose glove.”

Alex pulls his head back. “Sorry,” he repeats. “I tried not to wake you up.”

Willie turns in his hold so that he’s face to face with Alex. They wrap their arms around him. 

“Don’t be sorry,” he says, yawning once more. “It got me cuddles. I like cuddles.”

“I know you do.” Alex presses his lips to Willie’s forehead in a soft kiss. Thankfully, his lips don’t seem to be as cold as his nose. “Now go back to sleep.”

Willie snuggles closer into Alex’s chest. Soon enough, the snores start up again. 

This time, when Alex tucks his nose into Willie’s hair, Willie sleeps on.

[swmgnuts]

You’ll Never betray Me, right?

Established relationship, like makarov is in looove😍.

Can be read as Stockholm syndrome reader, although not intentionally written.

Smooching time with Makarov‼️‼️

~~

Makarov my love that would never be mean to you when your upset💔

When you are crying about something silly or are just overwhelmed He’d laugh and say something insensitive like “Ugh are you crying again??”

Pretends to be annoyed when you cry more but then pulls you into his chest and sways with you side to side,

Actually has the biggest grin imaginable, because your crying and leaning into HIM not anybody else but HIM,

Don’t leant too far into him tho you might feel his boner

After you finished crying and are just a tear stained mess of sobs and in search of more comfort of leaning more into him, he pulls your face in his hand and guides your face to his to give you a kiss, he isn’t considerate of his harsh stubble beard that rubs uncomfortably against your sensitive skin but you swear the best comfort he can give is those over the top and overwhelming kisses that drown out everting that made you cry.

If it’s really bad, he’ll hold your head in both his hands and stick his finger in your ear so you can only hear the sounds inside your mouth, your moans, his grunts, how your tongues swing.

It calms you down often, his roughness became comfort.

And if even that isn’t enough, he’ll huff and say stuff like,

“Isn’t my love enough for you Любимая?”

You are still sniffling and some stray tears escape your sad eyes, that look at him with so much hurt, like a kicked puppy that’s now whimpering and whining for comfort from their owner,

And what kind of owner would Makarov be if he didn’t take care of his most precious pet?

Although every dirty and kinda perverted plan of comfort was completely thrown off when you Kissed him yourself.

It started with a peck next to the lips as a taste, you literally licked your lips and tasted the chapstick you forced him to use, the memory of how red and embarrassed he was to use something as ‘girly’ as chapstick made you pause and giggle for a second.

The sight made Makarov give you excess to every part of his body to keep you react like that, he would never admit it but, this is one of the true signs he loves you.

Not that he’d kill for you or do every crime under the sun for you, No.. Killing is easy for him but being vulnerable like this, with his heart exposed for just a second.

That’s his kind of love.

And while you continued to kiss him, his lips, neck, cheek, collarbone. You couldn’t help but smell his cologne, you buried your nose into the crook of his neck and memorised the smell.

And Makarov took that as a sign to get undressed, first his gear, his jacket and shirt, till he stood with only his pants in front of you,

“If you like my cologne that much I’ll make sure you smell like nobody else other that me tomorrow”

His corky smirk while he said that made you a bit Touch deprived?

You wanted to crawl into his skin and only feel his warmth, nobody else’s, you wanted to die in his arms and be buried in his soul for the end of time, you wanted to devour him so once you are gone, a part of him will always be with you.

It made you bury yourself deeper into his body, now kissing his naked upper body with pleads of him never leaving, of please staying by your side forever, you couldn’t live without him.

It made Makarov so proud to hear that from you, he knew the perfect reward!

So after your pelvis was destroyed, your legs numb and Too many bite marks and hickeys left on your body, Makarov kneeled on the bed, before his new master piece, he was a little out of breath but appreciated was he created none the less.

Your expression fucked out of your mind, your eyelids half lidded, probably half asleep, panting while your chest rises and fell, your tired arms stretching out to ask for innocent cuddles, and because you were being such a good pet today, he indulged into your childish requests of comfort.

It wasn’t like he hated them though so keep asking him for cuddles and all this embarrassing stuff that humiliates him and his pride, like goodbye kisses and morning cuddles… maybe he does like them.

Now in your arms, you looked into each others eyes, the silence was nice.. he memorises the swirls of Color in your eyes and the shade of black in your iris, he gently pulled stray strands of hair away from your face, and you admired his scars and tattoos he has on his chest, tracing for the ink, tickling his skin, making him smile and laugh a bit when you’d frown at his ‘heavy’ scars, the deep ones, the ones that hurt.

Which made his smile and laughter drop, a question he wished his mind would never demand him to ask you, you looked up at his with your beautiful eyes, innocently, naively, you would never would you?

Suddenly the amusement and light heartiness in his eyes were gone, a cold stare that you couldn’t handle was placed there instead and you immediately ripped your hand away from his chest like you’d be burned, it made him frown more.

“You’d never betray me… right?“

Hurt and A certain sharpness was in his voice, where was this coming from? Did you do something wrong?

„W-What? Makarov what are you talk-„

He grabbed you face in one hand and squeezed your jaw too tightly to not be painful, intentionally, Makarov knew how much force to put to hurt or be gentle with you, you knew better than anyone else.

„You are never going to betray me, Right?“

You couldn’t even respond as his grip tighten around your jaw, you could already feel the strain.

„Answer Darling. Im quite impatient with questions don’t you know?“

The only responds you could manage with shivering hand and tear welled eyes and to cup his face and kiss him the most passionate way you could with the pain in your jaw, and it worked, his hand got looser but never left your face, his eyelids fluttered half closed as they mustered your expression.

After a while you pulled away and you took the opportunity to speak again,

„If you want to kill me, let me kiss you enough for both our life times.“

Wow okay kinda romantic, got me blushing tbh ISKYJFJD

Anyways that night, Makarov may or may not looked at wedding rings after you fell asleep again.

Yeah I think that’s it for this post tbh and if the wasn’t enough for you then they lived happily ever after in a toxic relationship where reader could never really afford a therapist but a random ratty Russian man you picked off the street and decided that husband material (THATS MEEE‼️‼️‼️‼️IM READER‼️‼️‼️‼️)

[xfindingtrouble]

He'd asked her, once, what she missed most about being human—or perhaps she'd volunteered the information. She hadn't been quite so careful in cataloguing him in those early days, when she could convince herself still that he hadn't wound himself around her as tightly as any spell, the threads encircling her of a different nature but just as tight, infinitely more permanent. Astoria answered chocolate, opting for the easier of two answers. It led, somehow, to sunlight, and she'd shrugged and said that sunlight didn't matter as much as she might have guessed. It was awful, at first, knowing I'd never enjoy it again, but I came to love the moonlight just as much. I don't miss what I don't need.

(Much later, once they were closer, once they had started to confess to themselves what was becoming of them, they had discussed the other answer. I don't want to hear Her voice again, she'd answered then, each word chosen carefully, spoken quietly, as though she didn't want to admit that she meant it. I would want the ignorance. I would want to imagine that She loved me enough to speak to me again, than to know how little I'm worth to Her.)

Pale fingers twist in the fabric of his shirt and the sensation of his arms winding around her is a familiar one, though no less wonderful than the first time she'd felt it. She had, in those earliest days, had to fight the impulse to quantify unfairly, to place his love of his mortality above whatever strange affection he felt for her. But it was never so simple, and when she carried his body through the doors of Whitestone, the subtle scent of death and decay settling around him in her arms, she couldn't bring herself to reduce it to such a petty motivation, even to soothe her own grief. It was loyalty to his own humanity, commitment to the memory of the family he lost and the specter of the family that remained—and even if it were a love of death, could she really blame him, remembering her own devotion to death before it was denied to her?

But were she ever to try and quantify it, now or when they began, she knows that the sun's never meant half so much to one as the other does. What is there to do with so precious a gift but accept it, wholeheartedly and without reservation?

I'll take this as a yes, then? As if there could ever be another answer. Percy's voice wavers and she sniffs, draws back only enough to see his face as she wipes a thumb under her eyes. I wouldn't want to spend forever with anyone else, after all. She lets out a watery laugh, and her eyes settle on his as her hands move to his face, holding him like he's something fragile, something precious, something perfect. "Yes," she breathes, and she lets out another laugh. There's real joy underneath it. "Yes. Of course."

If he'd said it ten, even five years ago she'd have questioned it, calmed the euphoric warmth in her chest while she gently prodded at his resolve, reminded him that they still had time. Now, it is only the natural evolution: she will give up her life for him when the time comes, and until then, he will give up his death. It feels almost like another set of marriage vows, somehow more binding than the first. She recognizes that look in him: she's seen it while she watched him poring over his research, when some instinct of his is proven right. He has no doubt weighed every possible outcome, the benefits and the costs, and come to his conclusion so firmly she doubts anything could change his mind. Driven by emotion, yes, and dedication, and her, but making a choice with a sound mind.

She stands on her toes and draws him down the rest of the way, and she presses her lips to his in a near-desperate, fevered kiss. That there is any distance between them is intolerable to her now, and she thinks she could climb into his skin and still feel too far from him in this moment. When she draws back for breath, his and her own both, she brings her lips to his forehead, the tip of his beautifully crooked nose. "You're sure." It's an observation, not a question. She lowers herself back onto her heels, brushes a stray lock of silver hair back from his face. Some part of her hopes they never find a cure; what's the sun to the promise of that silver hair tangled around her fingers for the rest of eternity? "Oh, my love," she breathes out, and she's never felt so warm in her life. "How long—?" How long have you wanted this? How long have you considered it? (She may never wonder how long will I still have you? again.)

but I came to love the moonlight just as much. I don't miss what I don't need. she had once said. it had been strange to think that she missed chocolate of all things, percy had never been one for sweets. but it made sense that such comfort would be what Astoria craved. She had impeccable taste in the things she could consume, so why wouldn't the sentiment extend to candies? What had been stranger yet was the implication of that. There were things she could eat, many of which he had cataloged in the decades they had spent together. It had been a passing conversation, a genuine curiosity but her answer had stuck with him in the journey to knowing her.

( sometimes, he would imagine the face she'd make when she could enjoy it. it was a personal goal for Percy to help Astoria indulge in chocolate again. This alone was worth living for)

There were so many things about her he wanted to know, things he could only know via experience. She lived life through eyes much different than his own. It was a musing he had turned over many times in his mind. He had claimed once ( when he was a younger man ) that he would miss the sunlight too much if he were like her. On occasion she would bare it for his sake, the barrier between day & night as relative to the situation at hand. He had taken note of how long she could stay in it's gentle embrace before it affected her. He always implored her to remember her veil, for her own sake. It was not enough to entirely protect her ( which is something he had learned with time ) but she had faced the light to be with him. he would hardly deserve her if he was unwilling to face the dark for her.

It was daunting to think he would lose his connection to the gods, as she had. The Raven Queen was a waning connection he had to Vax, a missing chunk in his chest he had never quite stopped feeling. A place he was sure would never quite fill again. he would pray to Her more often than he would ever admit, especially to Astoria. The sanctity of death was what made life worth living, but there were more things to live for than his horribly short lifespan could partake in. It wasn't like he wouldn't be looking for his death in his own, wonderful way. By the end of it, his devotion to Astoria was devotion to death. They would be buried one day together, regardless of the price.

In his decision was not only his dedication to her, but also his remaining friends. His life was short, his body fragile. He was just a man, trying to survive in a terribly fragile body. The rest of his friends would live for centuries, if not more. There were so many things he wanted to experience with them, with Astoria. It was daunting that they would face a thousand threats he couldn't be there to help them with. He supposed not all of them would be keen on his new status of undead, but it wouldn't change the person he was. The person he hoped he could continue to be. There was much good left to put into this world & it would be a shame if he could not have a hand in it.

Not that this brief thought is enough to draw his attention away from Astoria. Percy had feared he would leave Astoria alone in this world a great many times. He had promised, more than once, that he would never damn his wife to loneliness. His wife who now held him like a anchor, that he could not help but hold a little tighter as she sniffs steadying her sobs so that she may speak again. The hand on her back drifts upwards to the base of her skull when she raises her gaze to meet his own.

' Yes ' she says & it is the most wonderful thing he's ever heard from her mouth ( it is worth noting, that he has heard countless wonderful things on her voice ) finally, the emotion he had been holding in his throat manifests in the way of pinprick tears in is eyes. They burn, though the feeling is strangely grounding. They make this seem less like a dream. He had learned in the vast expanses of ups & downs with her that tears were not always so terrible, they were proof of life.

He melts against her lips with a visceral sort of desperation. Percy scarcely takes the time to breathe, painting his truth with the fiercest kiss of his lifetime. Percy feels like a madman to ask this of her, to be seen in all his desire. But this leaves nothing left to hide. He chases after her lips with another quick kiss when she breaks away & it is now he realizes how fast his heart is beating, hammering away in his ribcage. She often had that affect on him. There were many times in his life he had wondered if he would ever love. He had always liked the idea of love, but it was a fleeting concept. There was scarcely time for such indulgences & yet now he could hardly imagine a world where he heart did not belong to her. What was love, if not two hearts beating in tandem? If hers was still, his would be too.

" I've never been more sure of anything in my life, " as a stubborn man, he has been sure of a great many things. He liked to be right, successful & he often was. Sureness was engraved into many facets of his personality, as it had to be in order to walk his path. But every decision he had obsessed over paled in comparison to knowing he could never have enough time with Astoria. One day they could experience humanity together, he would feed her chocolates as they watched the sunrise against the mountains. But until then he could be like her ( a creature of the night, powerful. and as he had learned, often noble )

" It's been a lingering thought for a while now. " He would be a liar if he claimed not played with the idea in passing before then, too. Late nights would hardly be so late, if he did not have to sleep. time could pass too quickly or not at all in the face of mortality. but two years ago he had posed the question more seriously, picked apart every reason why he should or should not. the price of either choice would be expensive in nature, but it would not be the first time he put his humanity on the line. the difference here was that he would get a hundred lifetimes with the woman he wanted to spend them with. He lets his words linger between them for a moment, pressing his lips to her temple before he finds his voice again.

" When my shoulders began to ache, a few winters ago. When i realized how old I was getting, " this is only half a joke, a bright sarcasm in his voice. He settles on an answer, allowing his hand to travel from the back of her neck & along her jawline. It is a natural progression when he takes her chin between his fingers, unwilling to look away from her gaze, " I began to realize realized how short our time together would be if I couldn't find a cure. I couldn't just leave you behind. "

He had spent so long looking for answers that it was a waste not to acknowledge the one in front of him right now. It feels as though the confession of desire for eternity was a weight off his chest, "Why should I spend our limited time together pouring over texts with no answers when we could extend it instead? "

[missmielyhoran]

Imagine dating Harry during the Fine Line era and then having to listen to Cherry lmao can you write something like that? Pleaseee

I feel like I would have laughed tbh💀

Here you go...it's a short one

Warning- just fluff, bit of sad and insecure Y/N, I feel like I have written many sad shit lmao

*****

You were lying beside Harry on the studio floor. The carpet gave you a rug burn, but you could make sacrifice for your boy.

You were listening to his album with him. Both of you had one of the earphones connected to the phone playing songs, which would be out in 2 weeks. Lights up had just ended, and you were convinced it would be up in your top 3 with golden when soft guitar started playing.

Don't you call him baby...

You knew none of the songs were about you, but somehow, you knew this one might hurt you. Songs were a view inside Harry, how he feels, who he is, those lyrics are him being vulnerable and just like his songs, he's wonderful, a dreamy, a playful melody.

I just miss your accent and your friends...

It was very early in your relationship, and although you were convinced you were about to fall in love with him, you still had your insecurities. All of your friends warned you about him, and sometimes you would get inside your head and overthink his every action.

He never met your friends but he missed hers. She had beautiful french accent you don't, she's a model, beautiful, tall and has a amazing dressing sense which you call see Harry took inspiration from meanwhile you go out anywhere in joggers, most you do it wear jeans.

You were so different than her and you couldn't help but compare. Why would he date someone so...less than her unless you were just a moving part. A rebound from his last relationship, which was very much serious, what if your friends were right and he's still in love with her?

You didn't even realize the song had ended when you heard a woman's laugh, laugh, and then her beautiful accent. You were starting to get irritated cause why does she have to be so perfect?

It was a voicemail obviously left by her for him. The ceiling turned blurry as your eyes watered, you were feeling insecure, and didn't know if you should tell Harry or not. What if he thinks you're a whiny or a cry baby?

"Baby?" Suddenly, the ceiling was replaced by your boyfriend's beautiful face and his mop of curly hair.

"What's wrong?" He asked concerned, his eyes searching all over your face for any hint.

"Nothing it's just sad song" you fake laughed and whiped off your tears but Harry didn't buy it. He gave you a bored look and raised his eyebrows wanting the truth in answer.

You sighed and looked away from him to the space between you and him, "It's stupid" You mumbled.

He lifted your chin with his index finger and gave you a stern look, "Nothing is stupid when it comes to you and you wouldn't be crying if it was. Now chop chop tell me" He asked rolling over with you so now you very laying on his chest.

"Do-" You bit down on your lips and looked away again and started to pick on your cuticle, "Do you still have feelings for her?" You asked and then panicked, "Just- I mean, you started dating me so soon, and your relationship seemed so serious with her-"

"Oh sweetheart," Harry cooed and chuckled. He pulled you into him more, and you digged your nose into the crook of his neck, inhaling his smell and feeling comforted by it.

"Yes, my relationship with her was serious, but that doesn't mean you're anything less or just a rebound." He assured you, removing the hair that was fanned against the side of your face.

"I know it's too early to say this, but I knew the moment I saw you in that park sitting alone reading your book that you were the one." He kissed your head and snuggled more. You smiled against his neck and gave him a kiss, the mark from your lip gloss sitting there.

You had your doubts and thoughts, your anxiety always making worse out of things, but you also had Harry to shoo them away and protect you, give you a good cuddle whenever cold thoughts surrounded you.

*****

Thank you for requesting! you can request more or just talk to me here♡

Please Like, Comment and Reblog! Ily❤️

[kileaderie]

[21:36 p.m.]

.||. Genre: Smut

.||. Warnings: dom!Jongho, sub!Reader, teasing, blindfolded, breast fucking, marking, light bondage, overstimulation, unprotected sex, etc.

Word Count: 880 Words.

Summary: Spicy night with your boyfriend, as he keeps testing your limits.

Author's Note: How long has it been? More than 3 months yeh hehehe, enjoy my work cause I am busy with my university life ooft.

A gentle feeling moves up the outside of your thighs. Delicate fingertip glides across them. His breath touched your chest, then his mouth wrapped around your already swollen nipple, his tongue softly licking. Your eyelashes brushed across the silk fabric of your blindfold, causing you to whimper.

As he nibbled on your nipple, he shifted his hand to pinch and play with your other, laying over yours. His other hand went down your side, resting at your waist. As he went to divert his attention to your ear, your nipple felt a blast of frigid air. As you moaned softly, he bit on your lobe.

"I like the way you sound, so beautiful." He growled.

"Jongho, please.."

"Relax, you're so impatient."

You sighed in frustration. He was really taking his time tonight. You felt him shift his knees to either side of you as you craved his touch... only to realize how much he had planned to tease you tonight. The tip of his dick brushed against your belly button.

You sighed, "Jongho..."

"Shh...I want you to feel me all over the place."

You felt him trace his tip all the way down your stomach, then circle each breast before pressing his hands together and sliding his dick between them. He moved slowly forward and back, his tip grazing your chin as you realized how hard he was.

His hands were firm against your breasts, and you could feel his movements becoming less and less restrained. He let go of your breasts, and you wept for the loss of his touch. He then ran his finger up and down your nose.

"You are absolutely perfect for me tonight."

"Allowing me to use you. Every single part of you."

"You'll have to thank me later for giving you such treatment, Y/n."

As he ran his fingers along your slit, you felt his body weight lay across you. You couldn't help but squirm, and he responded with a hand pressing down on your hip, holding you in place while sliding fingers inside you.

"You're way too wet for me.."

"Maybe I should make you wait this long all the time.."

You grumbled and you got a small laugh out of him. He took his fingers off your cunt and raised your legs so that your hips met his. He positioned himself in front of your entrance and finally began to fuck you properly.

The rope tightened around your wrists as he thrust into you, slowly at first, methodically, then quickly as his hands squeezed on your hips. You knew you'd wake up with bruises, and you knew how much he'd enjoy seeing his marks on you.

You moaned as you sensed him losing control. He'd been so preoccupied with trying to tease you that he'd been holding himself back, and you could tell he wasn't going to be able to do so much longer.

He shifted his weight across you, more of his body weight. As his thrusts became less and less controlled, he buried his head in the crook of your neck and began sucking and biting your skin. As you shrieked and he grunted, your hips bucked to meet his thrusts. Your sounds piqued his interest even more as his movements became less precise. His hands moved down from your hips to grab your ass.

"J-Jongho!"

You screamed, feeling his cock twitch inside you. You could tell he was close, his breathing was hard, fast, and becoming increasingly audible. He let out a loud moan as you felt him spill inside of you, hips twitching and fingers digging into your ass cheeks to the point of pain. You were both panting and gasping for air.

Jongho is still inside of you, moving in and out slowly. You whimpered, feeling exhausted. He untied your blindfold as his hands reached to lift your head. You opened your eyes to see his contented face untying your wrists.

He threw the restraints off the bed and continued slowly thrusting into you. He also noticed your wrist was slightly bruised as he brushed your hair behind your ear. He then looked you in the eyes lovingly.

"I want to fuck you again, I want to see your eyes roll to the back of your head. Care for another round, baby?"

The possibility of him repeatedly fucking you over and over again, excites you. "Yes, please go ahead."

He smiled and grabbed your arm, kissing the back of your hand before repositioning it on each side of your head. He entwined your fingers with him, and his lips pressed against yours in a passionate kiss. His thrusts quickened, and you sighed, hips bucking up to meet them. He kissed your neck mark and stares at you.

"Y/n, come on. Let me see your eyes rolled back." He grunts as he picks up speed.

"A-ah, hold on, it's too much-" You sighed and whimpered.

He doesn't stop, thrusting in and out quickly until he achieves his goal. As you approached your orgasm, you moaned loudly, your back arched, and your eyes rolled back. He flashed a smile and started kissing your lips until his seeds spilled inside of you again. You both panted after staring at each other for a few moments.

"You're so obedient..."

[cathedral-of-sinners]

yo!!can i ask B, D, F, T for kaeya🥺🥺

love, trukaeyasimp2022😇 (i love u too)

Hi anon, yes you may 🥺

I actually got a request to do all the letters for Mr. Cavalry Captain so you're about to get more than what you bargained for! (He’s a fave of mine so it’s not like I’m complaining)

CW: Bondage (K), Masturbation (K), Blowjob (C), Degradation (N), Riding (I), no gendered terms/genitalia for reader, reader can be seen as either sub, dom or both depending on the letter, might be a little all over the place since Kaeya is a really complicated man (I love him sm but god do I think one or two or seven of these are OOC 😭😭) 

— Kaeya: Full Alphabet

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

Softer and cuddly! Like, he needs to have one of you tucking your nose into the crook of the other’s neck while being held close (chest-to-chest or with one of you on your back and the other cuddled into the others side doesn't matter to him). Absolutely has to be touching/caressing you in someway too. Usually it’s Kaeya simply having a hand against your back/shoulders, lovingly tracing your bare skin, his touch feather light as his nails barely make contact. Anything to ground him and make sure this wasn't just some dream. (Sort of unrelated but please pet his hair he’ll melt so fast it’s adorable)

If it was one of your rougher/meaner sessions you can be sure he’s whispering praises right up until you fall asleep. He wants to make sure you know how well you did and that he loves you very much. Def presses kisses to your forehead/temple/cheek as well!

B = Body Part (Their favorite body part of their partners)

The hip/ass/thigh area. Kaeya could stare for hours, no joke. You could be walking away from him and out his office and he'd be daydreaming about gripping your skin while fucking you, the squish of your flesh perfect in his large palms. Or you're honestly just sitting across the room from him doing your own thing and his gaze wanders to where your ass meets the sit. Yeah, he wants to touch. Maybe a little nibble too <3

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically)

Kaeya's mesmerized at how his cum decorates your face! The way drops of his seed look on you after you finish blowing him has the captain's heart racing and the widest smirk on his face.

D = Dirty Secret

Answered here!

E = Experience (How experienced are they?) 

A wise fanfic once wrote how Kaeya wouldn't even show his eye so there's no way rumors about him sleeping around would be true and it's changed me and my views greatly. So, I believe Kaeya is a virgin HOWEVER! I think, in order to get information, he's done some subtle touching (a hand on the waist, running his fingers up and down their back, leaning in close, the like) but never has he penetrated or been penetrated by another.

F = Favourite Position

Either with you bent over something, doggy or you on your back with Kaeya standing/kneeling between your legs (depends on where you’re doing the do and how needy he is). All three have it where he can easily latch onto your hips!

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc.)

Leans more on the humorous side in the beginning but in the middle and towards the end just before you’re both about to cum he grows serious. It’s the same if he were subbing too, though he’d be just a little less quick witted while being at your mercy.

Like, I can definitely see you on your back and Kaeya trying/outright tickling you??? Just for the fuck of it too??? Maybe to lighten the mood before getting down n' dirty idk????

H = Hair (How well groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.) 

Groomed well, if not just a little bushy/overgrown! Kaeya takes it upon himself to stay well presented, regardless if anyone was to see those parts of him or not.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect)

Kaeya can be romantic if the mood calls for it. He has no problem in showing this side either, both in actions and words.

“You’re stunning, you know that?” He’ll whisper, the faintest of his usually light hearted tone in his voice. You're sat facing him as he makes the effort so slow his thrusts, focusing on reaching deeper rather than anything else. Hands that are more often than not hidden behind gloves will come up to cup your face, his skin warm and uncovered as he pulls you into tender kiss after tender kiss.

Oh, and he isn’t above doing cheesy/cliché displays either - rose petals, candles, some wine and music, he’ll do it all.

J = Jack Off (Masturbation headcanon)

Jacks off almost anywhere?? But it’s like he wants to get caught too?? What a menace (affectionate).

At home he’ll leave the door just slightly ajar. Goes at it in plain view within his office knowing that you’ll be paying him a visit soon. Either behind the tavern or in the bathroom because Kaeya knows sooner or later you’ll come looking for him. Even if you don’t it’s fine, he’s good at hiding after all. He’ll just finish up where he is and return back to you :)

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks)

Temperature play. A common one I know but honestly? The cute little gasps of pleasure you make at the unexpected touch of cyro makes his stomach do flips <33 He loves it so much I swear. He does it at random too so you never expect it!

Mutual masturbation/JOI. This one I can't describe why exactly Kaeya would like it but I know for a fact he'd fucking love it. Maybe it has to do with the intimacy, of doing something 'private' only a little ways away from one another. Or how he can now see every expression you make while also witnessing your body's reactions. Regardless, Kaeya loves to see you work yourself to your high, it's just an added bonus that he was able to guide you to it, the addition of velvety smooth words ("that's it, just like that") a special treat <3

Bondage. The idea of being laid out before you, no barrier between his figure and your roaming eyes is exciting to Kaeya. The way you drink him in has his heart rate accelerating and his cock twitching. Similarly, if you're the one tied, he loves how easy he can access all of you and, again, how exposed you are for him. He loves you so much and you're a literal work of art, how could he not want to see every bit of you?

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do)

Anywhere in your home will suffice - living room, kitchen, in the hall, the bedroom, it’s all good in Kaeya’s book since he gets to ravage you (or be ravaged) to the fullest.

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

Praise and alluding to the dirty in public!! Praise (expanded on a little more in N) since it not only stokes his ego but just genuinely makes him feel good. Then for public happenings it’s cause I like the idea of shy Kaeya who, after seeing you - lets say - push your tongue against the inside of your cheek from across Angels Share, can’t get the image of you out of his head and- oh would you look at that he’s hard now. Guess you two gotta go somewhere and fix that ;)

Ok so actually that can be chalked up to you initiating gets him going. The tongue and cheek trick, palming his already growing erection through his tight pants, things like this get him going.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn-offs)

Heavy, heavy degradation - both to himself and you. There is a line he refuses to cross with you even if you say you like it. He’d find his movements stuttering, face scrunching and maybe even his stomach a little ill should he step - to what he believes- is too far. As for himself, Kaeya partially feeds off of what people say to and about him, no matter how much he acts otherwise, and you’re at the top of the list on who he listens to most. Your genuine compliments and praises outside the moment mean everything to him, your supposed pleasuring insults are no different.

Some degrading is okay, but do be mindful of how much and what you say. You know you've gone too far (or are very close to doing so) when he says something along the lines of, "hey now, that wasn't very nice," or "that was kinda mean, don't you think?" He'll say it in that indifferent, sort of joking tone too to try and cover it and play it off as a humorous moment.

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

A natural born with his tongue, Kaeya prefers giving just because he gets to see how you writhe in pleasure, hips bucking up with a symphony of pants and moans slowly becoming louder as he goes on. Maintains eye contact if he can because he knows it gets your insides doing flips.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? etc.)

Usually starts out at a pretty steady pace before leading into something faster. He always makes sure to hit every spot he knows that has you moaning his name.

Even if he's had a tiring day he still somehow manages the energy to pound into you.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.)

Answered here!

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.)

Further in your relationship, experimental and riskier endeavors are an absolute. There were just some things you both had been unable to bring up before while things were still fresh between you two.

His personal favourite is to get risky n' frisky in his office (with in/behind the tavern a close second).

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

Answered here!

T=Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?)

Before meeting you Kaeya only had a select few, the 'basics' to get him through to climax.

His favourite toy - although simple - is a vibrator. "Small but mighty," he'd tell you. The possibilities are endless and oh how he can't wait to try them all.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He can be such a tease >:( He teases you with both words and actions about 8 out of 10 times. You want him to touch you? How about he blows some cool air instead? A kiss? Ya gotta earn it. Your own orgasm? He’s suddenly tired and now you have to do it yourself. Go on, he knows you can do it <3

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make)

Somewhat loud - you just make him feel so good, he can't help it and it's only fair you get to know - but does have the ability to stay quiet. He makes sure he's right up against your ear too so you can catch every groan and pant of his (maybe that's why he seems so loud?). Don't worry thought, it wouldn't catch the attention of passersby. They'd have to be stopped and actively listening to hear Kaeya.

Tease him just right though and he'll let out the loudest but most gorgeous moan that you'd be afraid it alerted the neighbors if you were in a clearer state of mind.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice)

The first time you had sex with Kaeya was probably the most vanilla but gentle, heart barring session of your lives. It was his first time in general but it was also his first with someone he truly loves. He wanted to show you that he trusts and cherishes you - that you’re 'the one'.

With how flirty he can be, it took a surprising amount of time before Kaeya started teasing you in bed, being a little more playful, kinky. Above all else though, he became tremendously confident in what he was doing, hesitating much less than he did previously when it came to touching you or initiating/provoking you.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words)

Kaeya's been blessed with length more than girth and he knows how to use this to his advantage. A prominent vein dances along the side of his cock.

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

Honestly not as high as you may think! Kaeya's swamped with work 85% of the time: paperwork, patrols, investigations, training new recruits and so on. By time he has any down time or gets home all that's on his mind is to kick his boots off and have a drink before laying down.

However, when his desires are fed any sort of spark they have the potential to burn for hours after. Clear your schedule cause you're not going anyway until he's satisfied.

Z = ZZZ (how quickly they fall asleep afterward)

It takes a little for the hammering of his heart to die down but within half an hour he’s out. Tries to make sure you’re comfy, cleaned up and at least close to falling asleep before he begins drifting off (unless you were the one in control that night. Then he’s actually tucked safely in your arms after having been cleaned up and is out faster than usual).