#why he sound so fruity

[an-theduckin]

The cry fruit's "Please Don't Kill Me I Don't Wanna Die!" is such a vocal stim for me like I just cannot stop saying it randomly throughout the day .

[lovebun-com]

I was messing with some voice ai earlier with some friends and I found a whisper one !!!! So . Here’s the original vs the ai 😭😭😭

[legallydistinctloolooland]

listen i enjoy both Michael Kovach & (new guy who’s name I keep getting the order confused of)'s takes on Angel, but a take I saw a few times was "oh fucking finally I'm so glad he doesn't sound like such a gay stereotype"

And like. Yeah. I see where they're coming from. But I liked him a lot initially because he sounded like a gay stereotype. Where's my ''sounds like a gay stereotype irl" representation?

[bpmiranda]

Hi sweet,

I was wondering if you could write a fic, for older!logan x fem! reader. Where they're doing the deed and he grabs the reader's face and spits alcohol in their mouth? 😩 love the fics <3

Drunk On You (Logan Howlett) nsfw

A/N: drunk sex, rough sex, age gap, 18+ reader

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” You cry, gripping tightly onto the back of the couch as Logan is pounding into you from behind. His hands are gripping tightly onto your shoulders, keeping you from running away, throaty grunts are the only sound emitting from him as his cock is plummeting mercilessly into your young cunt. You had been at it for hours, the drunk lull you had been in long gone now, and you wonder why you have such a weakness for him, why you always let him talk you into his home and out of your pants. “L-Logan, please, I can’t!” You sob and he only chuckles, fucking chuckles. Roughly, he lifts you up and holds you against his chest, one arm wrapped around you to lock your arms at your sides as he jackhammers up into you. “Ow, fuck!” You cry.

With his free hand, he grabs the bottle of whiskey he had been drinking from earlier, the bottle you were insistent on denying because you like the fruity drinks and - in your own words - because ‘whiskey tastes yucky.’ Logan takes a particularly large swig from the bottle and slams it back down before he roughly squeezes your cheeks together, forcing your mouth open, and he spits the shot of alcohol down your throat. “That should help, baby doll.” He growls into your ear, pinching your nose to make you swallow the horrible brown liquor.

You squeeze your eyes shut as the harsh taste burns your throat on the way down and you cry out again as he pushes you down into the back of the couch. “I’m gonna cum!” You gasp as he smacks your ass.

“Not yet,” He orders, pounding slower, but still deep into you. You whimper, holding onto that tension as best you can while he ruts into you. His hands are rubbing your ass, squeezing it harshly and spreading you in a lewd manner. “You look good like this, baby, stuffed with my cock.”

You only whine in response, unable to process anything except the pleasure and pain he’s causing you. “Mm, wan-na c-cu-um-m,” You cry, hot tears rolling down your cheeks as he takes his time watching his length glide in and out of your small, fucked-raw hole. “Please!”

“Take another shot.” He says conditionally and you nod slowly, feeling him put the mouth of the bottle against your lips and you take a big swig, coughing after you swallow it. “You’re so obedient, baby doll. Love that about you young girls, so eager to please.” He smirks, lifting you up and sitting down on the couch with you on his lap and your back pressed against his chest. “Go on, baby, work for it.” He says, holding onto your hips now as he watches you weakly bounce on his cock, your hands resting over his as you whimper from the ache in your lower body.

You feel his beard tickling your back as he’s kissing your body, biting your waist, and moaning into you as he soothes the ache in your thighs with his large, rough hands. “Oh, Logan!” You moan, your head rolling back as your orgasm crashes through you like a hard wave, calming you as it laps gently through your contracting muscles.

“See that?” Logan says against your hip as your convulsing in his lap, his hands caressing your trembling thighs. “Whiskey can be good, baby doll.”

[sweets3rial]

sunlight kisses and featherlight touches

inspired by this request

re2!leon x fem!reader

summary: leons kindness has always been abused. in so many eyes, he's still a naive rookie who doesn't know better. he figures his life would always be that way until he met you...the barista who worked at the smoothie place down the street from his base.

tags: tooth-rotting fluff, a little post re2, non-canon, leon is hopelessly in love, krauser mentioned, mentions of bruises and scars, over worried reader, friends to lovers (?), established relationship, promise rings, virginity loss, insecure reader/reassuring leon, smut, oral (f! receiving), fingering, p in v, no protection (wrap it b4 you tap it ya'll)

word count: 5.8k (srry i got carried away)

there was one word to describe him. he was simply a gentleman, kind and soft. his manners were sharp as a knife and he knew how to take orders like any other good cop. though, his kindness and sweet smile were looked down upon. 

others figured him weak and easy to step on, but in a way he was. he hated talking back, and he hated disappointing people, that’s why he always put himself on the line for others. which is how he got a bullet scar on his left shoulder. he is willing to do that just because that’s how he was raised. 

but when is he going to start putting himself before others? 

when is he going to forget the hole that is left in his heart?

it was you. you were the answer to his every question. his every doubt and his every want. the minute your eyes met his baby blue ones there was an instant connection. he had a small cut on his cheek and another on his lip. 

you smiled up at him with a gleam in your eyes, leaning over the counter enthusiastically as you greeted him to take down his order. Leon didn’t really favor fruity drinks but he began to like them because of you. well, he only got them to see you. 

over a few weeks, he slowly memorized your work schedule at the small cafe and would walk in at the beginning of your shift. you’d greet him with the same smile every time, you knew his order by heart, and you knew the sound of his footsteps by memory. 

slowly, he was beginning to make more time in his day to go and see you. his visits were prolonged, he’d take his drink and go to sit down in the corner of the small cafe just so he could watch you work. 

he’d lean his head onto his hand, slowly sipping away at the smoothie in his hands as he watched you bounce around. every now and then, you would trail your gaze back over to him and shoot him a warm smile. 

seeing him sitting there watching you intently made your heart flutter but it also made you terribly nervous. you were constantly fixing your hair and checking in your pocket mirror to make sure you looked okay for the blonde in the corner. 

you tried so hard not to look at him so often but how could you? he was looking at you so deeply with those blue eyes of his. he sat right by the large window, where the sun could perfectly cascade down onto him.

his blonde hair would begin to glow on his head like an angel's halo, shadows cast down onto his sharp features, and the sun glinting off his perfectly white teeth. how can anyone be so beautiful? 

at the end of your shift, he’d walk you home. ignoring the ache in his muscles with each step. there he goes again, risking his health for someone. but it wasn’t just anyone, it was you. he was willing to walk beside you even if his legs were broken. 

but his winces of pain didn’t escape your ears. 

“Leon, are you hurt?” you asked him, stopping in your tracks and placing two hands on his shoulders. he shook his head, his blonde hair sweeping over his forehead. 

“no, no, i’m fine just sore.” he shot you a smile to reassure you but you weren’t convinced. 

it’s not like you couldn’t see the bruises on his skin when he’d walk in or the new cuts appearing on his arms and face every other week. you were worried. who in God's name was hurting him like that?

you’ve asked a few times but he shrugged it off with excuses like, ‘i was wrestling with my friend’’, the neighbor's cat got to him’, or ‘he fell’. when in reality he was being trained to become one of the best government agents of all time. 

“i don’t believe you, sit.” you demanded him. he shook his head, refusing. 

“no, i have to take you home.” 

you shoved him onto the bench behind you two, being sure not to hurt him. 

“no, i’ll get us a taxi that’ll take us both home.” 

he reached out for you, taking hold of your wrist before you could walk away to wave down a taxi. he brought you close to him, spreading his legs so you could step between him. you stayed silent, looking down into his eyes and now you could finally see it. 

the pain he’s been hiding for so long. your heart ached at the look in his eyes, one you’ve never seen before. he was tired and deeply hurt, you don’t know what and you didn’t bother to ask. you just swept the hair from out of his eyes and cupped his cheek. 

“okay, just rest.” 

his arms wrapped around your waist and he leaned his head into your stomach with a heavy sigh. his muscles were finally relaxed and his heavy eyelids were finally able to close. even if you two were in the middle of a busy street, you didn’t care. 

you knew he needed this. you brought your hand to the top of his head, slowly smoothing out his hair down to the back of his neck and then rubbing the nape of his neck to get rid of any tension. he listened to the sound of you taking deep breaths and then letting them out and smiling at the sound of your gurgling stomach.

it was a comforting sound, your touch was comforting as well. if you two weren’t out in the open in the middle of a cold night, he would’ve fallen asleep right then and there. he was very close though. 

your touch was so comforting. it wasn’t a punch or a blade. it wasn’t a shove or a kick. it was soft and warm. 

“is he alright?”

“yeah, he is! just sleepy.” 

your voice was soothing, calm, and welcoming. 

it was then that Leon realized that he was very much falling for you. he couldn’t get enough. after walking you home that night, he slept so peacefully back in his small dorm. after that day, his affection became more apparent to you. his touches would linger and his eyes would travel towards your lips. 

you’d catch him silently staring at you and the blush on his cheeks rising up from his neck. 

it didn’t take you long to catch feelings either. perhaps, the feelings were always there from the very moment you met him. he was always on your mind, you always worried for him, and you missed him when he wasn’t around. 

one night, he was walking you home. you both were walking at a very slow pace, neither of you wanting to say your goodbyes yet. 

“Leon?” you asked him, turning towards him and looking up into his eyes. you wanted him to know that you were serious. 

“what’s up? you okay? you cold?” he was always so sweet, and so caring. it made you all fuzzy inside.

“i’m okay,” you smiled at him, a small laugh slipping past your lips. “it’s just,” you stopped in your tracks which halted his own, he stepped in front of you placing his hands on your forearms and rubbing up and down. 

“hey, you okay?”

you stayed quiet and looked up at him, your heart hurt every time you could see a new bruise forming on his face or his neck and arms. you just wanted to kiss his scars away and hug him tight. 

“i want you to know that i’m always here for you and that i’m just a call away if you ever need me,” 

his hands slowed and paused at your elbows, his eyes went from worry to relief and then to a soft and kind look. slightly widening as his eyebrows upturned. 

“i don’t know, who’s giving you all these bruises but i’m here if you need me.” you sighed, rocking from heel to toe. 

training was rough. it nearly killed him every day and seeing you were the only good part of his days. but hearing those words from you eased his every worry. he knew he could rely on you but he didn’t want to be a burden. 

he never wanted to make you worry about him because you have so many more things to worry about. but you don’t believe that, sure bills and rent are a huge stress but knowing the person you love is in pain is even more of a stab in the heart. 

“you don’t have to worry about me,” he smiled, bringing you in for a very much-needed hug. you hugged him back instantly, practically squeezing him with all of your strength. 

“but i do,” you spoke, your words muffled into the material of his crew neck. 

you looked up at him, digging your chin into his chest. he looked back down at you and his heart was filled with so much love. god, he’s in love. 

he made it a goal that once he finished training, he was to ask you out. that he was going to ask you on a nice date. 

a steak dinner with wine and smooth jazz. he’d wear his finest suit and you’d wear your most gorgeous dress. he’d hold your hand, look into your eyes, and he'd ask you to be his. 

but who knew that the moment he finished training he was set off on his very first mission. he was terrified. again, he was a rookie stepping into an arena so foreign to him. 

he had Krauser and others by his side to keep him afloat but it was every man to themselves out here. 

he got back home safely, just a dislocated shoulder and a sprained wrist no biggie. so he instantly made his way to your condo, it had to be today. 

the week-old flowers sat in the passenger seat of his car, pretty much dead but some were still okay. the box of your favorite chocolates he planned to give you was now warm and probably melted but it had to be today. 

you were worried sick. Leon didn’t come to visit you at work few the past few days, you called and texted his cell but no prevail. your messages were unread and your calls went straight to voicemail. you left a dozen of messages.

each one getting more and more panicked. he told you he finished training so where in the hell did he disappear to?

your prayers were answered by multiple rings at your doorbell and a rhythmic knock at your door. you knew it was him, he was the only one that knocked with that tune. you swung the covers off of your lap and ran out of your bedroom, your feet sliding on the hardwood floors. 

you were quick to undo the multiple locks on the door before swinging the door open to see him. 

you were instantly put at ease at the sight of his face but then you saw a sling on his arm and a cast on his wrist. 

“Leon! what happene-“

before you could spit out another word, he brought his good arm from behind his back revealing a bouquet of flowers and a box of your favorite chocolates. 

“will you be my girlfriend?” he stammered out, “or would you let me be your boyfriend? um-“ 

you gave him an answer by throwing yourself at him. wrapping your arms around his waist and pulling him close to you, crushing the flowers in the process. 

“yes yes! of course i will!” you smiled into his chest. the smell of his cologne brought ease to your heart but you could also smell antiseptic on him which reminded you that he was hurt. 

you pulled away and looked up at his face, a bandage covering a cut on his cheek and his lip swollen from a cut. 

“my god! what happened to you?” you cupped his cheek, swiping your thumb over the small bandage. 

you led him inside, frantically taking the flowers and chocolates from him and placing them down on the kitchen table. you rushed back over to him, helping him stand upright as he slipped off his shoes. 

“i’m sorry to come over so late and to ask you out like that i,” he sighed, “i had a plan, a nice dinner and romance but i had work last minu-“

before he could say another thing, your lips were on his. your lips hit his teeth at first but once he got a motion of what was going on he was quick to reciprocate. he sighed into your lips and instantly melted into your embrace. 

his lips were soft and warm, you could feel his cut now scabbed up brushing against your bottom lip but you didn’t care. you’ve waited for this moment for so so long. 

you both pulled away with a slow smack and you kept your hand on his cheek, “dinner or not, you’re all i need.” you said to him with a smile. 

you were overwhelmed with so many emotions. both sadness and happiness. you were sad that he was hurt but you were happy he was here. even though he should be resting instead of hauling his ass to your doorstep. 

“thank you,” he smiled, pressing his lips to yours again. he could get used to this, kissing you and holding you close. he could get used to your kindness and care, finally you see him for him. 

that night he told you a fraction of why he had so many bruises, how he was training to become something big and how he finally went out onto his first mission. 

and you learned throughout the first few months of your relationship that this was a regular thing. his missions were tough but you knew he was strong, you knew he would always come back to you and he knew that you’d be waiting there with open arms. 

Leon made sure to spoil you, with flowers every time he came over, and your favorite snacks. simple date nights that consisted of takeout and movies. it was the small things that counted for you. 

you always told him you never needed fancy dinners and the best luxurious clothes and shoes. all you needed was him. 

you made him feel special and more than he thought he was capable of feeling. 

though tonight was special. you come home to all your lights off and the smell of vanilla wafting in the air. 

“Leon?” you called out, placing the bags of groceries down on the kitchen table. a flickering orange light brought you to the living room and you were shocked to see that the fireplace had been lit, the coffee table had been moved, and replaced with a large blanket. 

pillows and candles, snacks and food, and especially Leon. 

he stood in the middle of the room, looking at you with a large smile on his face. 

“babe, what is this?” you smiled at him, your cheeks aching. 

“happy six-month anniversary baby,” he chuckled, walking over to you. 

he snaked his arms around your waist and pulled you in for a deep and passionate kiss, cupping your jaw and holding you close, slowly swaying you back and forth in his hold. your knees went weak at his touch and at the feeling of his tongue slotting with yours. 

you pulled away, biting down on your lip as you looked at the scenery in front of you. 

the fireplace gave the room a romantic aura, the hues of orange and red along with the cracking of fire wood and the whipping of high flames. the candles were your favorite scent, wafting in the air around you along with the smell of chinese takeout and chocolate covered strawberries. 

“oh honey,” you looked back over to him, smiling at him with your eyes. god you could marry him right now. “i thought you had work today,” you gasped at him, swatting his chest playfully. 

he rocked you back and forth, leaning down and touching his nose with yours, “i lied, i’m sorry baby.” 

“mmm,” you hummed before placing a kiss onto his lips, “i forgive you.” 

he lead you over into the middle of the blanket, guiding you to sit down and take a look at all the little small gifts he prepared for you.

a record of your favorite album from your favorite artists. little small gummies. a new pair of fluffy socks. a few hair accesories. and a velvet box.

you looked over at him, trembling with anticipation. 

“open it!” he chuckled, growing impatient and snuggling into your side, watching you intently as you opened it. inside was a small ring paired with a chain. 

“it’s a promise ring,” he slowly took the box from you and slid the ring out from its wedge. 

“i promise to be your love forever, i promise to treat you right, i promise to be loyal and faithful,” he took your hand and slipped the ring onto your finger, a perfect fit. 

he took your ring measurement one night when you were sleeping. 

“i promise to be the perfect boyfriend to you and future husband,” he smiled, his eyes looking into yours as he placed a kiss over the cold ring that was slowly being warmed up by your body heat. 

"and lastly, i promise to forever be yours."

your heart was filled with so much love, you couldn’t express it into words how thankful you were for him. he was a gentlemen. even if he was hurt, his muscles sore and bruises decorating his fair skin, he made sure to walk you home. 

even with his busy schedule and demanding job, he made time for you and your relationship. 

“i love you,” you told him. it was your first time ever saying those words to him, it took you long enough but you’re here now. 

“i love you so much more,” he tackled you down onto the floor with a deep kiss, teeth clashing into each other and noses squishing together. you wrapped your arms around his neck and brought him close to you.  

there was much more to this kiss, much more than passion and drive. there was hunger and longing. his hands trailed underneath your his crewneck, caressing your sides. you arched into his touch, opening your mouth to him and giving him permission to run his tongue over yours. 

you moaned at his taste, the taste of sweet and tangy strawberry and you felt hot underneath his touch. but then he pulled away. 

“i’m sorry, i got a little ahead of myself,” he laughed nervously as he pressed his forehead against yours. you licked your lips and shook your head. 

“it’s okay, i’m … i’m ready.” you whispered to him. 

you watched his adams apple bob as he gulped a lump down his throat. you two have been putting off sex for so long all because he didn’t want to hurt you and you were scared at first. but now, you’re sure. 

you knew in your heart and in your soul that Leon was the one. he’s patient and loving, he’s never once overstepped your boundaries or made you feel like complete shit. 

“are you sure? i don’t … i don’t want to hurt you.” he whispered to you, reaching up to cup your cheek. 

“i’m sure,” you squirmed beneath him a bit, “i want it.” 

he nodded his head, “i don’t know if i’ll last long,” he said with a breathy laugh. 

you reassured him by shaking your head, “that’s fine, i just want you.” 

“okay.” 

he was excited but also very cautious. his kisses were slow and tender, his touch gentle and soft. his hands made their way back up under your sweatshirt and he practically moaned into your mouth when he could feel you had no bra on. 

he tested the waters by sliding a finger over your erect nipple, eliciting a small moan from the back of your throat. his cock jumped at the way you struggled to kiss him back.

his slow touched were setting you off, they felt so good and your whole entire body ached for him. 

his hand left your breast, and he pulled away from your lips. 

“i’m going to take this off now, is that okay?” he was out of breath, breathing heavily onto your mouth and looking only at your face. 

you nodded, heart thrumming in your chest at the feeling of his fingers toying with the hem of your sweatshirt. 

“i’m going to need your words, babe.” 

“you can take it off.” 

he nodded, slowly lifting the hem of your sweatshirt over your head, lazily throwing it to the side and onto the couch behind you two. when he looked back down you were covering your breasts with one arm while you were propped up on the other. 

there was a blush on your cheeks and your eyes were avoiding his. part of the reason you were scared to have sex with Leon was because you were afraid he wasn’t going to like it or like you.

your body wasn’t perfect and certainly wasn’t like a supermodel. you had stretchmarks and cellulite. 

“hey,” he sighed out, leaning back over you. he placed a hand onto your arm, slowly rubbing his calloused finger over your skin. 

“sorry,”

“no, don’t be sorry.” he placed a kiss on your lips, short but sweet. “you’re beautiful okay? you don’t ever have to hide yourself from me.” 

you smiled up at him and nodded slowly as you removed your arm from over your chest. he didn’t look at the way your breasts bounced, instead, he just looked deeply into your eyes, soothing you with his soft ones. 

he leaned down into your ear, whispering the words, “i’m so lucky to have you.” 

he placed a kiss below your ear and shivers ran down your body and fire ignited in your stomach. his kisses continued down your neck, his lips lightly sucking onto your skin to create little purple hickeys on your skin. 

you writhed underneath him, grinding yourself down onto his thigh slotted between your legs, you needed more. 

your fingers tangled themselves into his hair, pushing him closer to your skin and silently begging for more. 

testing the waters a bit, he scraped his teeth along your collarbone earning a small gasp from you. 

“does that feel okay?” 

“harder.”

“yes ma’am,”

he did it again, biting down a bit harder and something deep inside you relished in the sting and also in the fact that he was marking you as his. 

he continued to venture down your body, placing a soft kiss to your pebbled nipple. you liked that, a lot. his other hand worked with kneading your left breast while his mouth placed soft kisses on the other. 

“Leon, stop teasing me.” you arched your back, pushing your chest further against his lips. he chuckled against your skin, before running his tongue over your nipple and bringing it in between his lips. 

he gave it a soft suck earning a small moan to leave your lips and your thighs to clench around his own. 

he stood up onto his knees, leaving your tit with a pop. he reached for the hem of his own shirt and brought it over his head. his beauty never failed to amaze you, chiseled muscle and veins. braodness and brood. 

such a gentle face and such a godly body. 

he leaned back down over you, capturing your lips in a desperate kiss. he needed you now more than ever, he was filled with more than just love for you but also deep hunger and eagerness. 

you itched for more of him, you knew he was being careful but you wanted more. you trusted Leon with your heart, body, and soul. you were willing to give yourself to him completely. 

you moaned into his mouth, loving the way he tasted and the heat of his kiss. dominating you, taking control, guiding you. 

your arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him closer. you never knew you could crave someone so much as you crave Leon. you wanted more, more than he could possibly give you. his fingers played with the hem of your shorts, his eyes asking permission to take them off. 

you nodded up at him with a gleam in your eyes. god he was beautiful. 

how could someone look so angelic, speak so elegantly, touch so softly, and love so purely? 

Leon wanted to cherish you. you were his first, he didn’t want to hurt you or make you hate him. he wanted to remember this night forever, tonight he wanted to give himself completely to you. he didn’t want to hide anymore. 

the hole that was left in his heart was no longer there because of you. his scars were healed and he could never be so thankful. 

you kicked off your shorts and your panties, now completely bare to him. even then, he didn’t let his eyes travel away from yours. those blue orbs of his spoke for him and soothed your every insecurity. 

you were aching for him, your cunt fluttered with need and your body itched to feel him. 

“let me know if you want to stop,” he said placing a kiss over your collarbone. 

“just say the words and i’ll stop,” he whispered huskily against your tit. you shook your head, eagerly watching as he made his way down your stomach with wet, open-mouthed kisses. 

you didn’t want him to stop, your stomach was doing flips with every kiss he placed on your skin and you felt light-headed. 

when his two calloused fingers made their way through your wet folds, shivers ran up your spine and your walls clenched around nothing. he was slowly testing the waters, rubbing over your clit gently as he kissed your abdomen. 

he looked up into your eyes, noticing the way your hips would buck when he focused on the small swollen bud. he circled his two fingers over your clit, watching you stutter to take a breath in. 

“more,” you breathed out. 

he moved his fingers away, prodding at your fluttering hole while his lips traveled down to kiss over your clit. you sucked in a small breath, looking down at him in between your legs. blonde hair sticking to your sweaty skin and hanging over his eyes. 

one of his muscular arms wrapped around your thigh, while the other was positioned between your legs, his fingers working slowly. 

“Leon, please…” you sighed, throwing your head back. 

he placed one last firm kiss over your clit, “okay, baby, i hear ya'."

he slowly sank his middle finger in between your folds, wet and hot. the slight stretch felt so good and so much bigger compared to yours. he curled his finger against your g-spot as his tongue flicked over your clit.

and god, he was addicted right then and there. sweet and salty with a bit of tang, he moaned into your clit as he added another finger inside of you. 

your thighs clenched around his head as your fingers pushed him deeper into you. his pace quickened, his fingers now thrusting in and out of you as his tongue flicked at your swollen clit. the wet slick sounds filled his ears along with your deep moans. 

you were dripping all over his fingers and tongue. he was beginning to grind his erection into the floor underneath him, his whole entire body was hot and itching with the need to be inside you. he’s never felt this way before, he was eager to make you come and even more eager for you to be his first. 

to see you stretched out for him with his name dripping like honey off of your lips. 

“more, please…” you moaned out to him. he was quick to obey, flattening his tongue over your cut and slowly flicking his tongue at your entrance. 

“that okay?” 

you nodded quickly, your insides were begging for more. 

he slowed down, reminding you to use your words. “yes! yes! that’s okay.” 

his tongue was hot and felt like heaven inside of you, lewd wet noises paired with the whines of his name. his arms came around your thighs again, holding your hips down as he eagerly fucked his tongue inside of you. 

wet and sloppy is how he’d describe it, but he was in heaven. he loved being suffocated by your thighs and your cunt, he could die just like this. he moaned into your heat, his own eyes rolling into the back of his head at the very taste of you. 

your legs began to tremble and the aching feeling inside your stomach was only getting tighter. you wanted to feel him, you wanted to feel him stretch you and touch those deepest parts inside of you. you were ready to fully give yourself to him. 

you were shy at first, scared even but now you were sure.

you tugged on his hair, prompting him to stop.

“you okay? is it too much?”

you shook your head, pulling him up towards you, “i need you.” you breathed out to him. he felt like the air in his lungs had been taken away, he couldn’t breathe and couldn’t think either. hearing you say those words, with half-lidded eyes and flushed cheeks, did something to him. 

he nodded, gulping a lump down his throat. he prayed to the gods above that he wasn’t going to finish the moment he slid himself inside of you. he prayed he was good enough. 

“okay,”

you eagerly brought him down to your lips, sucking on his already swollen bottom lip. he tasted like you and something about you kissing him right after he ate you out was so incredibly hot to him. he held himself above you as his other hand went to work his sweats off of his legs. 

you were trembling with excitement, so much to the point you were struggling to kiss him back. being so close to him like this, your sweaty bodies sticking together and the smell of sex in the air, it was heaven on earth. 

a shiver shook through you as he pressed his length in between your folds, “oh my god,”

he was thick and heavy, you could feel the heat radiating off his cock and onto your clit. it was glorious. 

he slowly began to grind his hips into you, the tip of his cock pushing up against your clit in the most gentle way. it earned him a moan of his name, slipping from your lips and directly into his ear. 

he groaned above you, his eyebrows scrunching together and sucking the taste of you off his bottom lip. he looked down at where your bodies met, admiring the way your cunt lubricated his dick. oh yeah, he’s not going to last long. 

he looked back up at you, to see you looking where he was. your lips agape, sucking in small breaths, and your eyebrows upturned in pleasure. 

“you okay?” 

“yeah, it’s just …. intimidating.” 

he chuckled at your choice of words, leaning down and placing a deep, slow kiss on your lips. he pulled away, placing his forehead to yours, “let me know if it’s too much, okay?” 

you nodded, lacing his fingers with yours as his other went to grab the base of his cock. carefully, he pressed his tip into you, his shoulders shuddering as he slowly sank into your heat. you were so wet and hot it was driving him crazy. 

you back arched into him as he slowly sank into you, your eyes squeezed shut and your mouth hung open in a gasp. it stung but felt so good. 

“oh my god, you’re amazing,” he gasped onto your lips, “so gorgeous,” he placed a kiss on the tip of your nose. 

his hips flushed against yours, and finally, he was buried deep inside of you, kissing your cervix with his dripping tip. you could feel him everywhere, in your heart, your mind, and your soul. you looked into his eyes, your legs trembling and your walls clenching. 

“please, move.” you begged him. 

he nodded, he was still composing himself, trying to keep himself from coming right there and then. but slowly, his hips began to thrust. pulling out and sinking back in with a slow and languid pace. each thrust of his cock got less and less painful. 

and it wasn’t long until he was thrusting at a steady pace and you were moaning loudly into the air. your nails sunk into the skin of his shoulders, dragging down his back to leave red lines all over his pale skin. 

“fuck!” you whined. 

he brought his free hand to your thigh, guiding it around his waist. his thigh moved to press down on your other leg, spreading you open for him — allowing him to fuck you deeper. your eyes shot open at the feeling of him hitting you deeper and your breath stuttered. 

he was so good, so perfect, everything you’ve ever wanted. 

“god Leon, that’s so good,” you moaned up to him. 

you were like a dream, this didn’t feel real to him but oh it was so real. you were all he’s ever wanted in a beautiful human form. everyone has abused his kindness, he was always a rookie who didn’t know better.  

to everyone in his life. all his past relationships, whether it was romantic or friendship, he spent sacrificing his goodwill. but you brought his smile back, you healed his scars, and filled the holes in his heart. you saw more than a rookie. you saw him for him.

that’s why he means it when he says:

“i love you,” his voice came out in a small moan. his abdomen was tight and he was struggling to hold on. "oh, i'm close"

“me too,” you told him. he nodded, bringing the hand on your thigh over to your swollen clit. rubbing slowly and putting just the right amount of pressure. 

you clenched around his throbbing cock, moaning out his name as your back arched off the ground. he took this chance to bring your nipple into his mouth, sucking hard. 

you snapped, stars danced behind your eyes and the pressure inside of you finally ruptured. he wasn’t far behind, groaning out your name and then sinking himself deep into you to paint your walls with his hot seed. 

his dick jumped and kicked inside of you, his muscles taut and his hand squeezing around your own. 

both of you took a minute to catch your breaths, he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily and holding you so tight. your legs were wrapped around his hips, keeping his nestled inside of you, he’s never felt so safe in your embrace like this. 

“that was … amazing,” he spoke in between hot breaths. you chuckled, placing a kiss on his sweaty forehead. 

he pulled away from the crook of your neck, looking up at you with every emotion swimming in the pools of his eyes. 

“i love you.” 

“i love you more.” 

(divider creds to @saradika ,, photos off of pinterest)

[jarofstyles]

Pressing Questions

We love new husbandrrry >:)

I hope you enjoy them and let me know your thoughts!

Check out our Patreon for early access and 190+ exclusive writings

WC- 4.4k

Warnings- exhibitionism, slight breeding kink, completely cute n flirty babies, husband x wife kink???

---

“Hey, husband?” 

“Yes, Wife?” It sounded so good coming from their lips. It made her borderline giddy as she looked over at him to find him already looking over at her. The flush she felt in her cheeks bled down to her chest. They were finally fucking married. 

“What made you decide you were marrying me?” Y/N asked as she lounged next to him. Their honeymoon in full swing, Harry had rented out a cabana with a daybed so he could cuddle up to her on the beach and Y/N was positive now that it was definitely one of many things he had up his sleeve. The aesthetic had been perfect to her Pinterest board, but she had a feeling Harry knew that.

Roses in the room, champagne upon arrival, brand new swimwear just for her… she had been absolutely spoiled since they landed. Just like he promised. 

The warm air flowed over their forms, her head resting on her bent arm as the other held the fruity cocktail she had drunk an embarrassing amount of in the last three days. Some kind of coconut and lime thing that had her feeling more giggly than she could remember being in most of her adult life, but she was safe here. Safe with Harry, just like she had been dreaming of. 

 Harry chuckled and wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her closer to his chest. He traced a lazy circular pattern on her bare hip with his fingertips as he spoke, his voice low and deep. Slightly hushed, keeping it intimate. Just the way she liked it. It was like he was fine tuned to appear to each and every thing she found attractive- or somehow managed to make everything he did appeal to her. Either way, she felt her tummy flutter. 

"Darling, is this a trick question? Do you really think I only have one reason to marry you?”  Her husband acted like it was a ridiculous question but pressed a kiss to her forehead, giving her an answer regardless.  "You’re beyond beautiful, the funniest person I’ve ever met, smart as a tack... and you put up with all my ridiculous bullshit. All of those cliche reasons and more. Not t’mention you dealing with my insane schedule and giving me your honest opinions whenever I ask, even if they’re a little sassy.” Giving her a look, he got the laugh he wanted out of her before tilting his head in question. “Why wouldn’t I marry you?”

“I dunno, I just feel like…. I mean, I know I’m a catch.” She smirked, giving him a wink that she immediately regretted. At least she could be cringey with him and he would find it endearing. Her winks were not nearly as cute as his were.  “But was there a singular moment that you knew you were going to keep me?” His touch always did make her melt. 

Harry, ever the touchy and slightly clingy boyfriend- nay, husband-, couldn’t keep his hands off of her before they got married but… compared to this trip? Y/N was genuinely unsure there was a single moment without him with his touch somewhere on her body. It had been a little shocking at first but every single moment made her feel more addicted to the fingertips pressing into her, arms pulling her into his body or the lips ghosting her skin. The real problem would be when they got home and she couldn’t just have this on tap. 

Harry let out a deep breath, shifting to roll onto his side and propping his head up with his hand as he took in her beauty. The sun was giving her skin a warm, golden glimmer, and it took all his willpower not to pounce on her at that very moment and take her right there in the cabana.

"You want one singular moment, huh?" He hummed, pretending to think about it as his fingertips continued their slow path tracing her body. "There was this one time..."

Her breathing caught in her throat as his fingers took a lazy trail over her body. Harry had this way about him that had made her a little nervous with how attentive his gaze was, but even so… she loved that feeling. Like he was always clinging onto her last word. Even as her husband, he seemed to use this power to his advantage. 

“Mmm?” She asked, tossing back the final bit of her drink before fiddling with the cute little paper umbrella. “What time?”

His lips curled up into a small, smug smirk as he watched her react to his touch. He loved the power he had over her, the way his fingers seemed to make her breathless and her eyes got a little hazy. The way her body subconsciously arched into his touch.

Harry moved his hand from her hip, slowly tracing it up her side and over her ribcage, his touch so light that it almost tickled.  "It was very early on," he said, his voice low and husky. "We were at my place, just hanging out. You were wearing this… little fucking tank top." The way he said it made her know that he was thinking about that tank top to this day. Flattering, even if she couldn’t place the moment he was talking about.

She had to wrack her brain for a moment, trying to remember which day it was that he was referring to. The beginning days had been slightly hazy considering their romance had gone from tentative flirtation to a whirlwind as soon as the sexual dam had broken. 

“Which tank top?” 

Harry's smile grew wider as he saw her trying to remember. It was something he could never forget. "It was that little pink one, with the sexy little bit of lace at the neckline. Lacy straps, too," he said, his voice taking on a slightly dreamy tone as the memory played in his head. "It was so teeny tiny that I could see your bra through it..." Moving closer to her, his hand moved lower on her body, tracing over the soft, sensitive skin of her stomach. He knew exactly how he was affecting her. It was considered a bit of payback for said tank top.

"And those shorts you had on... so short that I could see your hips and legs… and the bottom of your bum when you moved the right way? Mm, I think you’ve always been so cruel with teasing me, baby.” The man obviously loved it though. There was no hiding that from her. 

Despite it being a private beach, Y/N felt the flutter of both fear and anticipation as he flirted with her so blatantly. Recalling a time she could definitely remember now, a movie night at his place where she had worn a matching pajama set that wasn’t outright sexy but… definitely was known to show off her body.

“Ohhhh. That one.” She grinned. “Seeing me in that made you know you were gonna marry me? Perv.”

“Hey now, I just appreciate beauty when I see it.” Harry countered with a laugh, acting slightly affronted as if his hand wasn’t now resting just over the waistband of her bikini. “So sue me for thinking y’looked incredible.”

 Moving even closer to her, his body pressed against hers as his lips brushed against her ear. His voice was sultry as he spoke, a little kiss pressed right underneath it.  “And I distinctly remember you wearing that little outfit just to drive me absolutely wild, you little minx. You can’t even deny it now. I know how that pretty head of yours works.”

Y/N snickered at the call out, knowing he was very much correct. She had done it to test him, to see how much he was willing to put up with back in the day, what would make him tick. He may call it teasing, but she called it an experiment for scientific research. 

“You are such a flirt today.” She took a moment to put the glass down before facing him again, carding her fingers through his wavy hair. The sea air did something to it that made her even more attracted to him, something she hadn’t realized possible until she had seen it herself. “But keep the memories coming.” Aka the compliments. She felt loved up and was very much in the mood to hear more. “What else did you think?”

Harry's eyes darkened slightly as her fingers ran through his hair. He loved it when she touched him like that, it sent shivers down his spine, making him want to lean into her like an eager pup awaiting pets. 

"Other things that cemented it?" He murmured, his hand on her hip giving her a gentle squeeze.  “There’s loads. Mm… I’d have t’say, the way you'd get all flustered when I teased you. The way you'd get all sarcastic and bratty when I annoyed you. How you were so confident and fiery, but at the same time so shy and sweet..." he trailed off, knowing he could go on for hours and hours when it came to what he loved about her. It was hard to get him to shut up about it, actually. 

“So you like when I’m bratty. That’s what I’m hearing.” She giggled, teasing him slightly despite him scolding her for it prior. “I think my moment was when you set up that whole thing on Valentine’s Day. Cause god knows you’ve got all the money in the world but you knew I hate fancy restaurants so you did like… the whole blanket fort thing. With the charcuterie board and champagne.” The dreamy sigh left her lips. It had stuck with her every day since. He may not even realize how important it had been for her, but Harry was the first person she’d dated who had ever made her feel that special. 

“You listened to me when I said what I liked. You got my favorite movie lined up and made me sweet and salty popcorn like I like. You even remembered you popped the wrong one and told me to wait and… I dunno.” She shrugged with her shy smile lighting up her face. “I knew I’d never find anyone else like you.”

Harry's gaze softened as she spoke, warmth spreading through his chest as she described his absolute favorite Valentine's Day. He hadn't known at the time it had been such a pivotal moment for her, but now it made perfect sense. His wife was sentimental that way. Something personal meant way more than the clothes he had bought her, or the house he’d got for them. His thoughts were everything to her.

He gave her a tender look, shaking his head, fingers tracing a gentle path along her arm. It was impossible to keep his touch from her, and he didn’t feel like trying. "You mean when I accidentally burned the salted popcorn?" He winced at the memory. It was a weird thing he always thought about, but in his defense the smell had been pretty bad. Thankfully he had air freshener on hand, though apple cinnamon didn’t exactly mask burnt popcorn. 

"Yeah, sorry about that. I was so focused on making sure everything was just right for you that I didn't pay enough attention to the microwave. Plus, your pretty face was distracting enough. Could barely form a proper sentence.”

The warmth flooded her tummy at the compliment, making her want to kiss him even more. It was held off considering she knew it would most definitely be something that got carried away, but that didn’t stop the urges. “I’ll be honest, I probably would have eaten the burnt popcorn. The fact that you’d even managed to remember those little facts about me had me like… giddy. I hadn’t felt that way about a crush since I was a teenager.” The admission came easily.  There was no shame in how much she loved Harry, even if she did tease him to say he was the clingy one. 

 Another question popped into her head, and considering he seemed happy to talk now that he’d had his beachside nap, she took advantage of it. “Were you nervous to propose?”

Harry's hand moved back and rested on her hip, his fingers rubbing over the soft skin as he answered immediately. 

"Nervous? Oh, absolutely. Fucking terrified, my love. Even though I knew you'd say yes, I was still nervous as hell." He let out a sweet hum,  softly, leaning in closer to her, his lips almost touching her ear as he spoke.  "The most nerve-wracking part was the time between when I proposed and when you actually said yes. It felt like the longest minute of my life..."

“You knew I’d say yes. C’mon, H.” Y/N’s giddy grin made it past her lips. It was weirdly satisfying to know he had been nervous because it meant he had been worried about the prospect of not being with her forever. It had always been her plan to say yes, but still. 

Harry chuckled again, his chest rumbling beneath her head "Yes, darling, I did know that." His hand slid under her chin, gently lifting her head to meet his gaze. How much he loved her was visible in his eyes. She’d never experienced visibly seeing love before him. 

"But that didn't stop me from being nervous. I was just so… desperate for you to say yes, to be mine forever. The thought of even a moment of hesitation..."

He shuddered slightly and his grip on her tightened ever so slightly "It would've killed me."

“Oh, baby.” She cooed, deciding to baby him a little bit. Hearing that vulnerability really did something to her, tangling her fingers into the hair at his nape. “I’ve been yours since you first kissed me. Y’know that?” Y/N had been completely smitten. It was borderline concerning until she had realized he felt the same. “I had the biggest crush on you when we first met. You only continue to get better and better every day.” 

Tossing her leg over her hip, she relaxed into his hold as she gazed over his pretty face. He’d let his stubble grow out a bit, albeit a bit patchy- the look suited him. “You’ve been my husband in my head for a long time. I don’t think I could have ever said no.”

Harry's heart skipped a beat as she spoke. He had always loved it when she got like this, all soft and gentle and sweet on him. It was hard not to be greedy for this sort of affection. The feeling of her tangling her fingers in his hair combined with the press of her body against his had a shiver running down his spine.

"S’That so?" He purred, his voice making her squirm. "Because you’ve been mine since the moment I saw you, darling. You were the most beautiful girl I'd ever seen in my life, and I knew I had to have you. You belong with me, you always have."

The slight possessive speak made her throat thicken, tummy warm, between her thighs throb a little bit. The tenderness in which he spoke had her melting and it had nothing to do with the beachy heat. This was exactly why she knew she had made the perfect choice with him.  Her body knew it was him before her head even did. Her heart? Even before that. “Yeah? I’m yours?” She cooed, brushing her nose against his.

Harry groaned softly as she brushed her nose against his, his eyes falling half-lidded. "Mmm, yeah. You are. You're mine. All mine."

His voice was a low rumble, his grip on her tightening as he spoke. "No one else will ever touch you, darling. You belong to me. I won't ever share you, no part of you is for anyone else but me."

Y/N let out a breathy gasp as his hand skipped over her ass, under the bikini bottom’s to hold bare skin. The flesh was squeezed, heat spreading between her legs as the little grab only managed to make it worse. She couldn’t control it even if she tried. 

“H! There are people around.” She squealed nervously, but didn’t move his hand. The people were far away, the beach not too crowded, but she had to say it. It wasn’t unlike him to grab a feel, but he had no intentions of moving his hand. The man had been insatiable since their wedding night with no sign of stopping. 

Harry gave her a sly simper as his hand squeezed her ass again, kneading lightly. He knew they were technically in public, and he didn't care in the slightest. It was more exciting this way, he loved the danger of being caught, the thrill of almost being seen… he was on his honeymoon with his wife. Nothing else mattered.

"I don't care, darling. They can't see us over here... Besides, we're on our honeymoon. We can do whatever we want." Licking his lower lip as he pulled her closer to him, his voice dropping to a low murmur.

"And right now, I want you."

“Baby…” Y/N’s voice went all syrupy and whimpery as his tongue ran over her jaw, teeth stopping to nibble at her skin. “You’re gonna get me wet. And I’m still a little sore from last night…” 

Her face flushed at the memory of him pounding into her, desperate proclamations of love being panted into the air as he fucked her over and over. That had been intense and her poor body hadn’t fully recovered, but it couldn’t help but react to him. She wasn’t saying no though because… she didn’t want to. A glutton for punishment, maybe, but she craved him. Body, mind and soul. 

Harry's breath hitched as she whimpered, the sound going straight to his already thickening cock. The thought of getting her all riled up here, of making her feel good while hidden away did little but work him up further. Y/N had a master key to his body and just the tiniest noise, movement of word could have him undone at any moment. 

“H…” she whined, feeling his hand slip between them. Finding her already wet, she could feel him groan into her neck as he pressed kisses over her throat. “H- fuck.” 

Her pants did nothing to deter him. The slick sound of his fingers rubbing through her slit before finding her swollen clit was the loudest thing she could hear, over the music in the distance and the crashing waves. “God.. you’re so bad.” And it felt so good.

Her husband’s lips curled up in a lazy grin as his fingers slid effortlessly through the wetness of her cunt. He could hear her gasping quietly with every touch, and he knew she was desperately trying to keep it together. It was his job to undo her. "You love it when I'm bad, darling." He taunted, nipping at her neck. With a voice low and needy he continued whispering in her ear.  "See.. I think you love it when I'm naughty. Think that you want me to touch you, to slip my fingers over your needy cunt and make you feel good. Y’want that, don’t you baby?” 

Her eyes fluttered shut as she leaned her head back, letting his mouth mark up her throat. It felt too good to stop him, and her body was aching for it. This was what a honeymoon was for. Wasn’t it?  

“Uh-huh.” She nodded. There was no use protesting when this was what she wanted anyway. “Just be gentle, please.” 

Harry hummed in agreement, his fingers still gently teasing her as he continued to mark up her throat. 

"Don't worry, baby, I'll be gentle. I'll take care of you, just like I always do." His free hand came up to cup her cheek, guiding her face up to look him in the eyes. 

"Just relax, my sweet girl, and let me make you feel good."

Her shaky breathing was only made worse as he made her look him in the eye as he pleasured her. The slick movement of his fingertips where she was swollen from his constant licking and rubbing and sucking had her head swimming, sensitive from the use she had been experiencing- but god, did she love it. 

She knew he was feeling even more worked up now that she was his wife officially, and he was letting her feel that. “You always make me feel s-so good.”

Harry's groan caught in his throat as he watched her, her eyes half-lidded and hazy with pleasure. He fucking loved seeing her like this, all flushed and breathless because of him. His fingers toyed with her still, slow and gentle as he tried to make himself wait. "Good, because I love making you feel good… S’my favorite thing."

He pressed a few kisses to her cheek, his nose skimming over her skin as he moved to whisper into her ear. It sent shivers over her body, hard to keep herself from losing it as he touched her, practiced and knowing exactly where to taunt.

"You're so damn perfect, darling. My perfect, pretty little wife, letting me do filthy things to you. Love you so much."

Her hips rocked in time with his fingers, eyes closing for a moment as he kissed her neck again before whispering in her ear. When he gripped her chin again, he made her watch his face as he slowly sunk a finger into her. It wasn’t difficult given how soaking wet her poor pussy was, but she still felt the stretch. It was hard not to when they were that thick. 

A high pitched whine was cut off as she bit her lip, face contorting slightly as she felt him begin to move it. “It’s not f-fair, how easily you can… you can make me feel crazy.”

Harry hummed as he watched her face twist with pleasure, his finger still lazily pumping in and out of her. Feeling the walls clench around him and slick up his finger, he couldn’t get enough of her.  "Mmm, I know, darling. I know everything that drives you insane. I know all your sensitive spots, where you like to be touched, how you like it when I talk dirty to you..."

 Leaning in and biting down gently on her earlobe, his voice a deep murmur in her ear. "And I love that I'm the only one who knows those things."

“Mhm, the only one. You’re the only one.” She agreed vehemently. The pleasure was smooth and slow, building up as the slick sound of his finger being inside of her made it even more hot. “And you’re the only one who’s gonna put a baby in me too.” 

Y/N knew just how crazy that sort of talk made him, discovered it not too long ago, and she was aware she was playing with fire. She knew that, and yet she continued. 

Harry let out a deep, loud groan at her words, the sound almost feral. If anyone was nearby it would give them away, but he frankly didn’t give a fuck. He loved it when she talked like that, so shameless and filthy. Meeting him where he was at. It was no secret that he had been on a mission this trip, but Y/N knew what she did to him when she brought it up. His free hand dug into her cheek, gripping her tightly as his finger curved inside her, pressing into the slick, spongy walls. 

"Yeah? You want me t’get you pregnant, little darling?" His breath came out in huffed pants as his control started to slip a little. A button being pushed, almost all the way down. “Want me t’knock you up? Think we should try again… If you want that.” The memory of him pulling his cock out to watch the creamy mix slip out of her cunt before pushing back in to keep some plugged up into her the night prior came rushing back. 

That was exactly what he was craving. 

“Yeah, I want to… I want you to do it on this trip. Please? Wanna make you a daddy.” She keened, knowing they had little time at the beach left. He was going to lose control soon, and that had been her quickly executed plan.

Harry's control completely snapped at her words. He let out a low, guttural moan, his grip on her cheek firm as he laid a deep kiss on her mouth, licking into it and feeling her desperate kiss returned before he pulled back with a grunt and wet lips. She was ethereal, even in filthy situations like this. With beachy hair and bleary eyes, swollen mouth and the golden glow of the setting sun on her skin. Every day, every moment served as a reminder as to why he was so lucky to have her.

“God, you drive me fucking insane, darling. Y’know exactly what to say to get me all worked up, huh?" It was clear he couldn’t take it anymore. Y/N had hit her intended target, and he couldn’t be out here any longer because he would definitely get caught with a public indecency charge. Fingering was one thing, but the things he wanted to do to her? They needed privacy. 

He withdrew his finger, his voice a gruff whisper as he spoke into her ear. "Get up. Now.” 

A cry of loss left her swollen lips as he stood up, not caring at all about the bulge in his pants. He grabbed the beach bag, tossing it over his arm and surprised her as he tossed her over his shoulder too. 

“Harry!” She squealed. “H- oh my god. You caveman!” He walked towards the villa with her tossed over his shoulder, like she weighed nothing. Like the blatant show of strength wouldn’t make her even more aroused. 

Her husband chuckled at her protest, his hand coming down across her ass to give her a sharp smack. "Hush, wife. I said I'd take care of you, and that's exactly what I'm doing."

[luveline]

could i request teacher!reader with hotch? like maybe she’s jacks teacher

thank you for your request! fem!reader, 1.2k

You're a teacher: you're always tired. Overworked, underpaid, everybody knows how it goes. And maybe you've let yourself go because you don't have any real material hopes for the future beyond getting Macy Danish to read at a first grade level, but how were you supposed to know that Jack Hotchner's father would be so overwhelmingly attractive? It's not fair. 

He's handsome though older than you'd been expecting, but that isn't the cut and dry of it. When he comes in, it's alone, in a well-fitted suit. He's tall and remarkably dark-eyed, shaking your hand without trying to impose any authority, as some of the fathers tend to do, and when you call him Mr. Hotchner, he says, "Aaron, please," but continues to call you Ms. L/N.

"Aaron," you say, pulling your skirt under your thighs as you sit down. You're dressed in nice clothes for the parent-teacher conferences, but you could've covered your sleeplessness better. "Jack is the nicest boy in class. He's actually my loveliest kid. Um…" You search through your notes for the preliminary assessment of Jack. "Sorry, two seconds." 

"Take your time. I know what it's like to dig through a mountain of paperwork every day." 

"Jack mentioned you work in the government, he calls you a special agent," you say, smiling. "You get the bad guys." 

"I am a special agent. Supervisory." Aaron is conscientious enough to pretend he doesn't notice your surprise. "I'm chief of the behavioural analysis unit." 

You can't even begin to guess what that entails. "Oh," you say breathlessly. 

"I understand that it sounds fantastical." 

"It sounds impressive," you say, floundering to correct yourself. Behavioural analysis? It must be obvious to him how nervous he's making you, then, and when you realise that, you get worse. "I'm so sorry about this. I should be more organised. I usually am." 

"That's alright. Take your time." 

Does he always speak that way? His voice is like fucking silk? Is he messing with you?

You yank the notes you made for Jack from the pile and flatten them across the desk. "Okay, sorry. Like I was saying, Jack is really the nicest kid, him and his friend Molly. They're both lovely, and teachers shouldn't have favourites, please don't tell the other parents, but they're my favourites." You smile at him quickly and return your eyes to the paper. The words swim in front of your eyes. "Jack can read better than you could ever hope for a first grader, he's immensely intelligent for his age group. He's patient. He'll explain anything to anyone if they ask him too, and he does it well." 

"I'm glad to hear that," he says, again so softly. 

You pick up one of your skinny biros to have something to fidget with. He's a very good looking man, but you're a good teacher. You can focus on what to say. Some parents need good things only. Some need reassurement that they're doing a good job. Aaron is harder to read, but you know what he needs, too. 

"He can be lonely," you say, looking him in the eye. "I don't think that that's down to any fault. I'm sure you know better than I do why he might feel that way." You know about his mom's passing over a year ago. You've seen grief in children too many times. "He… I understand if this isn't okay with you, but he eats lunch with me sometimes. I encourage him to sit with his peers, of course, but I think he runs out of energy pretty quickly." 

Aaron nods thoughtfully. His brows quirk into a furrow that you're afraid is directed at you. 

"I don't think he necessarily has trouble connecting with his friends." 

"What do you think?" 

"I think something awful happened to your family, and Jack will feel it for the rest of his life, but that it won't stop him from being great. It already isn't. And… he clearly has a father who loves him and who he admires. You're his second favourite topic." 

"What's his first?" he asks. 

"He's really into Fruity Fridays," you say with a laugh. "I bring in fruits you don't get often in America. Someone would've had to sign a form." 

"No, I remember signing it. He likes that?" His smile is golden. "I can't get him to try new things." 

"He had all the leftover gold kiwi last week." You rub your lips together. Time is ticking. You have nearly thirty parents to see tonight, but talking to Mr. Hotchner has been so normal. He's a regular person in a sea of inattentive helicopter narcissists. It's a relief and a half to meet him and know a kid as gentle as Jack is in good hands. "Mr. Hotchner, I have to tell you, I'm really relieved to meet you." 

"Aaron," he corrects.

Your tone drops too low. "Aaron." 

"I'm more than relieved," he says. "I knew that this year would be harder for him. I didn't know… I'm grateful to you, for being so kind with him." 

You look down at your notes, flushed from head to toe despite your airy skirt. Crossing your legs, you shake your head. "It's my job." 

"To let him take up the only break you get all day?" he asks. 

"It's not like that. Jack doesn't bother me." You fold your notes in half. "I can see his role model measures up." 

"I could say the same thing." 

The next time you see Jack, bright and early Monday mooring shepherded by his aunt Jessica, he's very happy to see you. You offer him a hug and pat his back when he wraps his arms around your hips. "Hello, Jack. Was your dad pleased with your drawings?"

Jack smiles at you. "I have a note for you." 

"You do? Can I see? Where is it, honey?" 

Jack takes off his backpack and pulls out the note and a tupperware container. "Oh, wow, did you make treats for the class? Jack, that's so nice!" 

"No. Dad said those are for you. He said you should have nice for nice, or something," Jack informs you. 

"You'll share with me, though? I can't eat them all by myself," you whisper. 

He nods with enthusiasm and runs off to put his backpack in his cubby and his coat on the hook. You look down at the cookies and note, which is actually an envelope. 

You open it with your thumbnail. The writing is Aaron's usual tight cursive.

Dear Miss L/N, 

I hoped to thank you again in person, but work makes that hard. I appreciate everything you do for Jack. There are teachers who work, and there are teachers who go above and beyond. I can feel confident anywhere in the country knowing Jack is being taught by the latter. 

Gratefully yours, 

Aaron Hotchner. 

P.S. Please don't feed Jack too many cookies. They're not for him. 

You keep the letter even if it's lame to do so. When is the next parent teacher conference, anyways?

[unbearableblog]

To my birthday. I wish myself to one day be loved like that. Based on a dream

Dream Dish

“Can you explain it a little more?”

“So, the outside was covered in dried cranberries and blueberries, but the inside was like… grass? I don’t know…”

“Grass? Sounds delicious,” he laughs.

“Shut up.”

Carmen listened intentively and moved away his curls as you described the dream you had, a certain dish that you tried there.

“Ugh, it was so weird? Like, I don’t think I’ve ever encountered this grass before. It was like hay, but green? And the outside of the dessert was like a fortune cookie, but brown?” you sigh in frustration, unable to describe its complexity in full, until an idea appears in your head. You quickly stand up and blurt out - “I’ll show you!”

You run to get the pencils and paper, leaving Carmen to sit amused on the bed. He knew waking up with you would be an adventure, but not in this way. Either way, he liked it.

“Here!” You put the paper down and frantically drew shapes and coloured them in, making the dream a reality.

“So! This is what it looks like.”

You paused from your driven spurt and realized that Carmen hasn’t said a word. He was silently looking at the paper.

“Sorry, this must be really boring to hear,” you suddenly shut down. After all, it was you who tried that magical dish, not him.

He looks up at you, then down at the paper. “No- …no, it’s a fascinating dish. I’m just tryna understand how it works,“ he still sounds kinda sleepy.

"It's okay, Carm, you don't have to."

Several days have passed and you moved on. You didn’t want to abandon your friends after getting a boyfriend, so today was one of the nights when you met up for a chat. When you came back, the apartment felt warmer and had a fruity scent - Carmen must have tried something for the restaurant.

You take your heels off and tiptoe to the kitchen, curious. He hasn’t heard you come in, so he is still hunched over the counter. Your eyes shifted to the table - and you wondered whether you were awake.

“Carmen? What’s that?”

“Shit!” he jumps, at which you chuckle, “when’d you come back?”

“Right now,” you say hesitantly, “why, was I not supposed to?”

“Of course not,” he comes to hug you. His arms are on your waist, and you know he can still smell your perfume. “I just wanted to surprise you,” he releases you and turns to the table.

You recognize the dish.

“Is that-”

“Yes, baby, that’s your dish,” he smiles and looks kinda proud.

“Can I try it?” you ask, and he reaches down to take the plate and a spoon. You break the cookie in half, inspect the filling, and eat it. As you chew, the insanity of the situation grows on you. This is a made-up dish. From your dream. You’re eating it.

“I-I’m sorry, I couldn’t find the exact grass you were talkin’ about, I had to switch it out with-”

“It’s okay, Carm, I’m sure that if it existed you would have found it,” you put the plate down and your hands slide to his arms, “It’s amazing. It didn’t taste nearly as good in the dream,”

“It is pretty good, isn’t it?” he takes the other half of the cookie and eats it too.

“Hey, that’s mine!”

”I made it.”

“I came up with it.”

He doesn’t respond, just smiles at you. You look him in the eyes and think how happy you are.

“I love you,” he whispers and gives you a kiss.

[jackalopenecropsy]

ok i'll indulge myself....

part 1(?) of biker gang!141 and an interesting fem grunge!reader... if u want more

cw; slight mentions of blood

The streets were pretty quiet this time of night. The only sounds to be heard were barking dogs or tires occasionally skidding in the distance. And the teenagers were never out this late in the fall, as school just started or they were working their dead jobs at the gas station or high school graduates pouring the same 5 drinks at a bar.

You liked walking around- even though it was maybe 1 or 2 in the morning- mainly because you had your scary guard dog with you, (who wasn't even a bit scary, he was just a police academy dropout with a fear of cotton swabs and squirrels) but also because the air this time of year smelled the best. It did wonders for your skin and sinuses, so why not? Walking around in the daytime was a lot more of a chore anyways, teenagers skating sporradically with fruity vapes on necklaces or older men just leaving their blue collar jobs for lunch while staring at you with unreadable expressions.

The northwoods, sigh. You'd told yourself that you'd leave it all the time when you were a kid. Over the years, a mix of the economy making that absolutely impossible and an aquirement of taste for small-town life made it a lot easier to accept the impossibility of it. Bartending and eventually being remote in editorial work kept you afloat in the small house you'd been able to buy flat out in the south side of town.

That part of town was just cemeteries and neighborhoods, neighborhoods and railroads, and gas stations and bars. As most south sides were. Another luxury of living where you lived was the copious amounts of streets and drag-worthy strips of old highway that laid for miles in one direction or another.

You used to work as a freelance flag girl for drag racers on some shitty craigslist copy, but quit l because the only racers that wanted you were full of white-claw drunk young assholes rooting for douchebag car modders who compensated for their dick sizes by throttling so hard that the pop of their exhausts sounded like gunfights. It was too loud and to risky and too tasteless.

But in the ends of the summer, it was taken over by the bikers. Not bicycle-bikers, but motorcyclists.

You were absolutely terrible at hiding your drooling depraved stares at every single one of them. The young women in skin-clad leather and red lipstick with matching sleek bikes, the finer-aged older men in their lean-back harleys with bandanas, the cute guys your age in their blackout helmets and their modestly-modded bikes. Oh, the variety, oh the taste. You had once thought about picking up biking yourself, but when you told your friends they all cackled at the idea. You were too absent minded at times; definitely from all the weed you smoked. Only half embarassed, you agreed.

Tonight was no different than the other nights of early Septembers before. Your dog lapped his tongue in the air catching stray dew drops falling from leaves overhead as you took your time walking accross the street. He swayed his tail so hard that you almost got knocked over a few times. The sound of a motorcyle revving in the distance made you slow your speed to a halt, listening intently, shamefully to see if you could get any bit of eye candy while out.

You recognized the sound of the engine, which soon became engines as the sounds came closer.

'Oh... a group of Kawaskis?? No... that's at least two more different motorcyles, but a few Kawaskis.. Do I hear a Harley?'

You blinked to yourself before shaking your head.

'God fucking damnit, you geek. You should NOT be able to tell what motorcyle model someone's riding from the fucking engine.'

Before you can shamefully walk back towards your house, you feel your dog tug harshly at his leash. You try to hold him back, but he yanks with one solid push of his back paws on the blacktop, and before you know it, you're hands and knees down on the hard ground as he's running full speed towards the sound of the motorcycles.

You groan in frustration as you stand up in a small bit of pain, your fishnets torn to shit as your palms and knees are scraped just enough to bleed a reasonable amount for getting launched by a 90 lb dog of muscle.

"Riley!" You shout and run at him, dodging a few trash cans along the street's edge as you do so. "Riley, goddamnit! Come back! Here boy!" Your converse were broken in enough to give you good ground as you chased him, and you almost grab his loose leash dragging behind him- until you trip over your own feet again just before you do.

You stay on the ground this time, unworried for your dog, as he's a big boy who knows how to not get hit by a car or get lost. More focused on the soul-eating embarassment of being outrun by a dog with more anxiety than a war veteran, and tripping twice in the process. You ignore the growing and stalling sound of engines beside- or in front, you can't tell being face down in the gravel- you as you're grovelling.

"Eh... excuse me miss? Are you alright?" You hear a gruff, dark voice mumble from just above you. You whip your head up to look at 5 people in bikers helmets just in front of you, their motorcyles off or stalling as they stand looking down at you on the ground.

"Oh- oh my- uh yeah- don't worry about me I'm great. I just tripped- nothing serious." You wave them off as you try and cover the growing fluster on your face. You stand and shake the dirt off your hands before swiping it off of your zip up, shaking it out of your gloves too. You look up to see none other than Riley, sitting contently behind the man in front of you, eagerly being pet by one of the bikers with a skull design painted onto his helmet and visor.

"Riley!" The biker looks up and your dog wags his tail hard enough to knock the bikers over too, and barks at you. "You are so not going to get any treats when we get home." He whines and continues barking, then twirls in a circle.

"You're dog's name is Riley?" The man in the skull helmet asks- and you suddenly become hyperaware of how all of the bikers are staring so intently at you. And those that have spoken so far have sickeningly thick English accents.

"Ah- yes, yeah. I was just on a walk and I heard you guys from the other street- but he just loves motorcylists so much, he took off on me. Usually he just waits until they pass us by. I'm so so sorry if he got in your way or anything." You scramble to try and seem somewhat normal as you switch between standing like a deer in their headlights, and holding your arms as the wind blew against your back.

"Ain't that a funny coincidence." The biker next to him stated, his accent thicker, and different. Possibly scottish.

"You watch it- It is a good name for a dog like this." The skull-helmet points an authoritative finger at the scot before patting Riley's head again. The man in front of you laughs heartily and takes his helmet off, revealing an older- FINELY aged man with hair in a short, short pulled back light brown and gray spotted ponytail. His mustache pulled down into a scruffy beard by mutton chops, giving him a real grizzly harley-rider look. You swore your jaw dropped when he took it off, and you were quick to cover your mouth when he smiled at you.

"I'm sorry about that miss- You've got a good dog protecting you. My names John Price." He walked up and took your hand from your face, squeezing it lightly. "My boys back there are harmless. You seem to have roughed yourself up a bit." He tilts his head as he leans back and looks you up and down, still holding your hand. Oh how deeply thankful you were that he was blocking the headlights from illuminating your red face.

"Yeah- I'm fine though, really! I just, can't keep up with Riley if I tried." You laugh and tremble a little as the cold air catches up to you. He raises an eyebrow- and fuck it gets to you because it makes him smirk a little bit too.

"Well, no offense but you look like you're in no condition to walk home like that!" A woman's voice comes up from behind Price's. You squint at the light when she comes up, and you see a blonde woman about his age with smile lines and blue eyes that could knock you down to your knees yet again. "My name's Kate, don't let John here scare you, he's just an old man." They banter a bit as you stare into space, begging any ethreal being to show you a sign that this is real life.

'Fuck being bisexual, god hates me.' You curse to yourself as you smile shyly at her.

"We can give you a ride home if you'd want! I wouldn't feel right letting you have to get yourself home with blood down your legs." Price motions with his free hand at your torn fishnets, rocks littering the cuts on your leg.

"Oh- I don't want to impose or anything, and I'll have Riley!" You struggle to keep yourself still as the wind continually stings.

"Lass, you're shakin' like a leaf in this wind." The scottish man shakes his head in his helmet, leaning back against the flat of his bike.

"You ain't getting home with just a dog draggin' you forward." The gruff voice of the skull-head from beside him made you look away in embarassment. They were all right, you were blocks away from home, and you didn't have your phone on you either.

"Um.. If you're sure you don't mind... but what about Riley?"

"He can ride wi' me!" The scott excitedly patted the flat he was leaning on, shuffling a few top panels to show a compartment on the back of it that had a hooking mechanism for leashes. Assumedly he had dogs too, and how greatful you were for it.

You sigh in relief that you wont have to limp home in your misery, as strong as you are, the chunk of you lost twice to the blacktop actually hurt more than you'd ever want to admit.

Before you can take a step forward, you're lifted off your feet and holding the shoulders of Kate. She laughs as you gasp and sets you on the back of skull-head's bike so you can backpack him, right next to Riley in the odd formation their bikes created.

"I promise he's not as scary as he looks- right Simon?"

"I don't bite." He chuckles deeply and you tense against his back as he does so. "You might want to hold on tho', I'm not exactly the easiest ride." You blush, hard as he says it, and the group laughs loudly as they start their bikes.

"Oi, treat her nice Si." A soft voice jeered from the last bike to Kate's right. "Or else I'll have to take her off your hands."

"Nice try Gaz."

"Boys! Quit scarin' her." Price chuckles and lights a cigar as he revs his engine. "Or else she wont wanna see us again. Now where do you need us to take you, love?"

'Ah.' Was all that crossed your mind as you locked your arms around Simon's waist, and you all shot off down the street.

[harrysbelovedd]

casual [rafe cameron]

pairing - rafe cameron x reader

summary - when you hook up with your best friend rafe on a drunken night after a party, you can’t stop thinking about it. but rafe, is doing everything he can to stay casual.

warnings - cursing, friends to lovers, angst, hurt/comfort

Sitting at the island club with the warm sun hitting my face is usually one of my favorite activities in the summer on Figure Eight. But ever since I hooked up with my best friend three days ago, I’ve been dreading this event my parents dragged me to.

I sip quietly on my fruity drink, tuning out the sound of my parents mingling with the other guests. That is until, I hear the unmistakable sound of the Camerons walking in to the club.

My head turns at the sound of Rafe speaking lowly to his father as they walk in. Rafe stands next to Ward, seemingly angry at his father but—when isn’t he. On the other side of Ward is Rose, smiling brightly and saying hello to everyone. Sarah and Wheezie trail behind, Sarah running off to talk to Pope who is working catering with his dad.

Rafe looks over at my family’s table, his jaw softening from the tension his father caused when he sees me. I smile softly at him, waving him over.

What he does next throws me for a loop. Instead of smiling back and coming to sit with me, or drag me away from all this—he completely ignores me. He turns around and goes to sit at the Cameron table.

My heart drops and I swallow my nerves roughly, excusing myself to go to the bathroom. I wander through the club inside, being occasionally stopped by my parent’s friends making small talk and greeting me.

When I finally reach the bathroom I shut the door behind me and look into the mirror, finally allowing the tears to escape my eyes.

I knew we shouldn’t have hooked up. I knew it would ruin everything. Change everything. But the one thing I didn’t think of was that he would blatantly ignore me. We’ve been best friends since we were kids and he’s always protected me, been there for me, cared for me.

And now we hook up one night when we’re both drunk—and he acts like all of that means nothing. Regardless of how he feels about us hooking up, our friendship means something—everything.

I hear a knock at the door and quickly wipe my tears and reach into my purse to fix my makeup. When I open the door, I see Rafe. He smiles almost sympathetically which only makes me more angry.

“Hey, I-“

I scoff, bumping my shoulder into him as I push past him. He follows behind, “Y/n? Can we just talk please?”

“My bad, I figured you didn’t want to after you completely ignored me,” I say sarcastically, walking through the part of the club where no one is occupying.

He grabs onto my wrist, pulling me close to him. I push against his chest, trying to get away but his strength keeps me close. “Let go, Rafe!”

“Will you stop being so fucking immature,” He spits. “I couldn’t talk to you out there with everyone. We needed to be away, that’s why I ignored you.”

“Right,” I respond, my voice sharp as knives as I avoid his eye contact.

He sighs, loosening his grip. “Look, okay. We can’t—“ He presses his lips together, seeming to look for the right words. “We can’t do this. We have to forget about it, okay? It never happened. Just be casual,” He shrugs.

My eyes brim with tears, “Be casual.” I whisper. “Be fucking casual?!” I push hard against his chest.

“Yes, Y/n! This will never work, don’t you realize that? We need to just—just forget about it, okay?! It’s going to ruin our friendship if we don’t.” He explains.

I shake my head, tears rolling down my cheeks. “How am I supposed to be casual when you kissed me like that? The things you said to me that night? We may have been drunk but I remember every second of it. It’s burned into my mind, Rafe. It might be easy for you to forget—“

He scoffs, “You don’t think I remember every touch? Every kiss—everything?! I do, trust me. But this just—it won’t work. And I don’t want to lose you.”

His confession should be comforting, but it just feels like he stabbed me in the heart. I swallow roughly, wiping my tears with the back of my hand. “You just did, Rafe.”

I turn around and head straight for the front door. I hop into my car and drive home, never wanting to see Rafe again.

.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.

I stare at my dark ceiling, fighting to sleep after tonight. But the only thing I can think about, is what I’m trying to forget. Rafe.

I close my eyes again, turning to the side and trying to force sleep.

I hear the sound of something at my window, a tapping sound. I get up and slowly walk to the window, peeking out of the curtains.

I see Rafe, leaning against a tree in my front yard as he jumps up, tossing rocks at my window. I sigh, opening the curtains all the way and then the window.

I stick my head out and look down at Rafe. He smiles, dropping the rest of the pebbles in his hand to the ground.

“Can you let me in?” He pleads.

“No.”

He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “Okay, um, I’m sorry. I fucked up, Y/n. It’s never been casual with you, and it never will be. You’re the only person on this fucking island I care about. I’d do anything for you, anything to get you back. I-“ He pauses, finding the words to continue. “I love you too much to lose you that easy. I’m just so terrified of hurting you. I’ve never loved anyone like I love you. This is all new to me, but I want to try.”

I close the window and pace out of my room, running down the stairs and out the front door. Rafe stands outside, staring at my window in defeat. But when he hears the door open, he smiles, watching me walk toward him.

“So.. what’re you saying, Rafe?” I ask when I stop in front of him.

He steps closer, cradling my face in his palms. “I don’t want to be casual. I want you to be mine. Please, give me another chance. I don’t deserve it, I don’t deserve you but I’ll spend every day making it up to you.”

A tear rolls down my cheek, his thumb quickly wiping it away. My hands trail around his neck as I stare into his eyes. He means it, every word. I can tell. One of the perks of knowing him so well.

“Okay.”

“Okay?” He smiles.

I nod, and before I could even process it—his lips are on mine. His thumbs rub along my cheeks as he cradles my face, pulling me impossibly close. This kiss is different than the ones we shared when we hooked up. It’s a kiss that feels, infinite. One I know that I’ll be able to share forever, not just one night.

A kiss that is completely un-casual.

[shares-a-vest]

Eddie reaches for Steve's fruity-scented shampoo - the stuff he swears he hasn't been using each and every time he stays over. He pops the cap and then the lights go out.

He screams bloody murder and drops the shampoo bottle. He kicks it and presses his palms against the nearest surfaces. One on the tiled wall, the other on the glass as he does everything to stop himself from moving his feet because, if he trips on that fucking fruity shampoo that makes Steve's hair oh-so-silky, he'll go slipping and sliding straight through the glass and into the goddamn toilet.

And he cannot die like that, buck-naked as the day he was born.

Though, if he absolutely had to die in the nude, he'd want it to be while he's railing someone six ways from Sunday...

Preferably the hunk who is bursting in through the bathroom door and waving a flashlight right in his eyes.

Steve opens the shower and reaches in to shut off the water. Eddie palms around and grips his boyfriend's wrist, impossibly warm despite now being wet.

"Are you... uh..." Steve drops the light enough from him to stop spluttering about. Eddie blinks hard, regaining enough focus to find a sly smile tugging at the corner of Steve's lips as he attempts to be serious, "Um, are you okay?"

Alright, maybe falling head-first into the toilet would have been a little less embarrassing than this: Steve staring back at him and snickering. He cups his junk and grumbles.

"Towel?" he spits, holding out one hand.

"Sorry," Steve says as he hands the brown (seriously, why do the Harrington's enjoy brown so much) towel over, "It's just you looked like you were in the middle of some naked jumping-jacks."

"Stevie, I was terrified," he retorts, drying off his arms and hands first so he can get a better grip on anything so he can safely get out of the damn shower before it becomes a fogged-up glass tomb.

But Steve places the flashlight tight under one arm and spots him, hovering one hand and placing the other on his dripping wet hip.

"I know," he soothes, now completely serious, "I was scared too."

Eddie doesn't care that he is mostly wet and that his hair is completely soaked, he goes right into Steve's strong arms, feeling his navy-blue sweater quickly dampen between them. Steve maneuvers around to stop their bodies from completely blocking their light source and hugs him tight.

"So stupid," Eddie can't help but mutter, "How am I more scared of the fucking dark than I was when I was six? Besides, how do you even lose power out here in Richie Richville?"

"Well, considering this house is surrounded by trees," Steve shrugs, "We lose power quite easily in bad weather," he pulls back enough to give a dangerously-teasing smirk considering Eddie's state of undress, "Thought you'd enjoy some candles and what-not, anyway. Doesn't Bilbo Baggins scurry around his cottage with a candlestick?"

Now it's Eddie's turn to move away as he hurriedly wraps the towel around himself - to protect his modesty. Yeah... that.

"Excuse me?" he exclaims, "He lives in a Hobbit hole, for one. And I'll have you know his home is well-lit."

"Come on!" Steve scoffs, rolling his eyes and taking his hand.

He leads them back into his bedroom, which at least has some moonlight peaking in from the windows. And yeah, now Eddie can really hear the source of the power outage. The wind outside and the trees that shroud Loch Nora sound like a goddamn tornado.

"Though I think Rivendell surely must have had some sort of electricity," he wonders aloud as he attempts to focus on something else.

"We can debate the infrastructure of Middle Earth later," Steve chuckles and promptly shoves a pair of sweatpants into his hands.

Eddie steps forward, smiling bashfully.

"You mean it?" he coos, biting the 't'.

Steve's eyes flick to his lips as he bites his own, "I can think of a few things we could do that don't involve the power being on."

Eddie opens his mouth, readying himself for a lame line about their palpable electricity that will probably make Steve laugh when the damn radio crackles.

If a physical object could be a boner-killer, it's the damn radio Steve currently has attached to his hip.

"Steeeve is the power out at your house, overrr!" Dustin screeches the moment Steve fishes it from his back pocket.

"Yes, over," Steve answers. He holds a finger up, silently asking Eddie to wait as they make no attempt to move an inch from each other's personal space, "I'mfine-okaygoodbye!"

He clicks the radio off completely and tosses it on his dresser, paying no mind to the fact it sends his Little League trophy toppling onto the carpet.

[steddieas-shegoes]

pins and needles

for @steddiemicrofic prompt ‘pin’

388 words | rated t | cw: a/b/o dynamics, implied fertility issues, mpreg | tags: omega Steve Harrington, alpha Eddie Munson, established relationship, a rare omegaverse sighting from me what is happening

🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃🫃

Steve glanced at the clock again. The office closed in ten minutes. Maybe he should call.

“You gonna tell me why you’ve been on pins and needles all day?” Eddie asked around a bite of lasagne. Steve had yet to touch his own plate.

“I’m fine.”

Eddie’s eyes squinted back at him suspiciously. “You’ve been acting weird for days now. And you smell different.”

Steve’s breath caught at that.

He thought about the two positive pregnancy tests he took three days ago. He thought about how his smell would be different if he was pregnant.

But then he thought about the two negative tests he’d had that same day. That was what made him get his blood tests done at the doctor the day before.

They promised results by the end of today.

So maybe Steve was just a little bit on edge.

“Do I smell different? Really?” Steve asked.

“A little. Just a hint of some fruity smell? Can’t quite tell what it is, maybe a berry?” Eddie sniffed. “Blueberry?”

Just as Steve was about to admit to taking the tests without his mate, the phone rang. He jumped up and ran to grab it off the hook, barely even saying hello.

“Yes, it’s Steve Munson. Uh huh. Yes.” He could feel Eddie’s eyes on him from the table. And then the doctor gave him the best news he could’ve heard. “Really? I am?”

Eddie was suddenly behind him, probably sensing the shift in his tone, hearing the tears in his voice.

“Yeah, I can come in next week. Monday at ten sounds good. Thank you so much. Okay. See you then.”

He hung up the phone and turned to Eddie.

“What is it? Are you sick?” Eddie looked pale and his scent shifted to something laced with concern. “We should call Dustin. He has a friend who’s a doctor now.”

“Eds.” Steve grabbed his hands, pulled them to his still-flat but hardened stomach. “Baby.”

“What?” Eddie was still confused.

Steve covered his hands over his stomach and kissed his cheek. “We’re having a baby.”

They’d tried for nearly two years, almost convinced they couldn’t because of the bats in the Upside Down nearly eating them both alive. But now they were. They were gonna be parents.

Eddie looked down at their hands. “Holy shit! Really?”

“Really.”

[fangirl-dot-com]

Chapter 24.5 - You Can Throw A Party

Ok, so this is shorter, but I really didn't know what else to put. But I hope it satisfies everyone's wants and needs! This got super sappy, but I loved the ending and I hope you do too!

Like always comments, questions, concerns, asks, reblogs, and likes are appreciated! Love you all and enjoy :D

The grid didn’t know what to expect when they finally arrived at the address that you had sent. Sure, they were expecting a house, but a plain and simple one. Not the giant ass mansion that their Ubers pulled up to. 

Charles looked at Pierre. 

“Is this the right house?” 

The Frenchman just shrugged his shoulders. Lando and Oscar had ridden with Alex, Lily, and Logan, who arrived at pretty much the same time as everyone else. Max and Arthur had apparently arrived early, since they weren’t staying in an extra hotel. 

Why the rest didn’t just accept your offer to stay there was your guess. But as the group of 17 guys gazed at the giant estate, they were rethinking their options.

The rest didn’t really know what to say. 

“I volunteer Lando to knock first!” Oscar called out before pushing the Briton toward the door. 

“Hey! Why me? I vote for Logan?” 

“Excuse you? I’m not the party animal Mr. Worldwide.” 

“Is that supposed to be an insult, Mr. Eagle screech?” 

“Well, if the boot fits.” 

“What did you just say?” 

“If the boot fits.” 

“Can you two please calm down?” the familiar voice of Lewis asked as he got out of his car with George and Carmen. Both were wearing similar outfits to everyone else. Light button ups with shorts. He was about to say something, but the front door opened. 

Arthur just stood there, looking weirdly once everyone didn’t move. 

“Are you all going to stand there arguing or come in?” he called out. Once the group got the go ahead, they all walked swiftly to the door. 

They thought the outside was huge, but the inside seemed to be even bigger. At the giant bar in the corner, the drivers found you siting and talking to Max, who already had a gin tonic in his hand. Arthur came over, putting a hand on your waist and a kiss on your head. Max spotted the group first and left you alone with your boyfriend. 

Logan’s jaw dropped as he witnessed the move. 

“When did that happen?” 

He pointed at the two of you, causing the rest of the drivers to look. Charles smirked at the sight of his brother and you being cozy. 

Max leaned over, “He asked her out after her crash at Suzuka.” 

Charles shivered at the memory of that day. 

He also added, “He’s been in love with her since their first season of Formula 2. I remember him coming home after he met her. ‘Charles, I think I just found the love of my life’.” 

The grid let out a bunch of “awes” at the new information and laughed at Charles’s impression of his brother (even though he could have just talked normally and sounded the exact same). They watched as the younger Monegasque place another gentle kiss on your forehead as you looked up at him, love evident in your eyes. The two of you were so soft as Arthur was gently rubbing your leg as you animatedly talked to Vito. 

You finally laid eyes on the rest of the drivers, smile widening as you slid off the stool you were sitting on. 

“Anyone want a drink?” you questioned, motioning to the bar. 

They were silent for a moment, before Fernando said, “Yes please.” 

That was the start of a wild night. It wasn’t too long before the drinks were being poured and refilled. Since you had started drinking here and there, you stayed safe with little fruity drinks. The grid was shocked at what your house had to offer. 

They were the first few to show up, but multiple personelle started coming after a while. It looked like the party was truly open to whoever wanted to come (except to one certain 6-foot baguette driver). Your entire team was talking the workers from other teams as well. It was a full house, and everyone was getting along – even Toto and Christian. That duo made your eyes bulge as you saw them getting along as they played pool. 

You took the group on a house tour. Charles wanted to cry at the sight of your car collection in the garage. Logan and Alex definitely took turns taking pictures inside the Evo. The next place you took them was the track. 

The drivers whined as they looked at the shiny karts. 

“Where did you get these? I don’t recognize the model,” Carlos mentioned, while crouching down to look closer. 

Your smile grew as you brushed one off. “My manager has his own line. I bought some off of him once I found out about the karting track.” 

The next few things went quickly. The girls really loved the giant bedrooms that the house had to offer. You had a smirk on your face as Carmen was complaining to George. 

She huffed. “Why would you want to stay at a hotel when we could have stayed here?”

George gawked at her, trying to come up with an excuse. 

You took this as a sign to pipe up. 

“Actually, I had my people bring your stuff over. I think after the party, everyone won’t want to leave.” 

Carmen, Lily, and Alex all squealed at the announcement. You could see George, Alex, and Charles all visible relax once their girlfriends were satiated. You knew that they would want to get into the pool at some point. 

They were speechless at the sight of your paddle court as well as the laser tag room. Once the tour was over, you let everyone just free. After a few rounds of paddle and karting, you made your way back into the main living room. 

You quickly found yourself cuddled up to your boyfriend. Your head was nicely tucked into his neck as your legs were draped over his legs. He was currently talking to Christian and Geri about how endurance training. You definitely saw the outcomes of the extra gym time as you glanced at his more defined muscles.

After everyone had their share of the house, Lando got his hands on the DJ set that you installed just for the party. 

“Who’s fucking ready for this?” he yelled out, starting up the first song. That was cue for you and Arthur to get up and start moving. You’re pretty sure you saw Toto getting it down to Right Round. 

Logan of course had to ask for Free Bird and completely ripped his shirt during the guitar solo. Oscar just stayed in a corner, shaking his head with a hand over his face. If his Lily was here, he’d probably not be the American’s babysitter, but tonight he was girlfriendless and babysitting duty was placed on him. 

Once a few more songs had played, Arthur suddenly left your grasp. The night was winding down as it neared 3 a.m., so you thought he was going to get ready for bed. Yet, he walked over to Lando, showed the Briton a song on his phone, and walked back to you. 

A soft melody filled the air. The partiers (Logan, Daniel, Fernando, George, Carlos, and Charles) were all passed out somewhere. 

Your eyes widened at the familiar guitar plucking. You smiled up at Arthur. 

“You didn’t.” 

He rolled his eyes. 

“It’s your song Cheri. Of course I did.” 

You placed your head on his chest as the two of you penguin danced. Max was on the side with Christian and Vito, watching the whole thing. 

“Nothing ‘bout the way that you were treated ever seemed alarming till now

“So you tie up your hair and you smile like it’s no big deal” 

You sighed as you listened to the lyrics of the song Arthur picked out for you. Tears wanted to fall, but you wanted to bask in the moment. Arthur gently placed his head on yours, holding you ever so tighter. 

“You can let it go

“You can throw a party full of everyone you know and not invite your family, ‘cause they never showed you love. You don’t have to be sorry for leaving and growing up.” 

The drivers who were left on the floor all watched as the crowd slowly broke up, letting you and Arthur just be together. 

Geri leaned her head on Christian as she watched the two of you just hold each other. Max was videoing for Kelly as she couldn’t make it. 

Alex had nudged Charles very hard so that he could wake up and possibly film it for his mother. The Monegasque might have also let out a few tears at the sight. 

Lando, who had been at the DJ booth, turned the sound up a bit higher, really letting the song echo throughout the whole house. 

Everyone was now watching as Arthur was now slightly spinning you. Your giggles could be heard by those around the two of you. Your eyes fluttered shut as you leaned back in.

The warmth and love around you was everything that you asked for. 

Vito, who was off to the side, looked out the window to a bright star in the sky. He smiled softly as the one star twinkled, almost winking at the Italian. He chuckled as he if he was going to tell a funny joke. 

He softly whispered, “She finally found the family she needed. You’d be so proud of her.”

The star twinkled once again, almost in response. 

Vito looked back at the dance floor, just you and Arthur together, surrounded by everyone who loved you. 

Your family. 

“You can let it go. You can throw a party full of everyone you know 

“You can start a family who will always show you love 

“You don’t have to be sorry, no.” 

y/n.jpg has posted (imagine insta can post 12 pics lol)

y/n.jpg did someone say party?

tagged: arthur_leclerc, landonorris, maxverstappen1, vito_official, charles_leclerc, carlossainz55, danielricciardo, georgerussell63, fernandoalo_official, carmenmmundt, yukitusoda0511, pierregasley, francisca.cgomes, alexandrasaintmleux, logansargeant, oscarpiastri, lewishamilton, alex_albon, and lilymhe

liked by christianhorner, y/n.nation, lestappenlove, maxiel4ever, and 357,295 others

rookie_on_top I just wanna know how big her house is

formulafan1 I know the guest list must have been INSANE

logan2sargeant I heard that pretty much everyone on the grid was there ouioui_bagette there were other pictures from the drivers and it seemed like the team principals were enjoying the time as well

ozzydown_under81 so this is where the catering money went to?

madmax33 how did max get on Vito's shoulders and what even is that shirt????????

maxverstappen1 it's a mindset vito_official your thighs are amazing man maxiel4ever HOLD UP

logansargeant I swear I'm not as think as you drunk I am

y/n.jpg he's gone...Oscar?? oscarpiastri on it

y/n.nation we have lando back on dj duty, Charles is acting carefree, Nando and George are back together partying, Yuki and pierre got into the karaoke room?, and apparently Logan ripped his shirt open during Free Bird

logansargeant hell yeaahhhhhh! EAGLE SCREECH RAWWRRR oscarpiastri get back here

y/nxarthur did anyone else see that video lando posted and then took down?

y/n&co I did! looked like Arthur and y/n were slow dancing together rookie_baby this and then Arthur's post?? they aren't as secret as they think lol

lilymhe never drinking that much again, but thanks babe for the fun night!

alex_albon no problem y/n.jpg she wasn't talking to you

gridkid everyone is probably wasted

y/n.jpg you'd be correct

sebvettelfan aahhh this reminds me of the good days when they could just party

TAG LIST: @fionaschicken @glitterquadricorn @laura-naruto-fan1998 @treehouse-mouse @sam-is-lost @kagatinkita @fangirl125reader @megatrilss1885 @myxticmoon @angsthology @cmleitora @fly-me-away @graciewrote @ashy-kit @slutofmultifandom @aexitizen-ln4 @sugarvibez @vellicora @thatgirlthatreadswattpad @33-81 @hoetel-manager @xcharlottemikaelsonx @jayda12 @ilove-tswizzle @justme2042 @itsjustkhaos @nikfigueiredo @stopeatread @cha-hot @sadg3 @iloveyou3000morgan @s4turnsl0ver @alessioayla @torchbearerkyle @leptitlu @awekbachira @shreks-sugar-daddy @v1naco @stan-josie @mellowarcadefun @badassturtle13 @beskardroids @callisposts @poppyalice2001 @juniper-july19 @lizzypiastri

[diremoone]

“how i wonder” | r. sukuna

it’s been ages since he’s celebrated any sort of birthday or holiday. but here he is, with the girl that’s best friends with his little brother, at her apartment with Chinese takeout and watching a Halloween movie on Christmas. and it’s nice, until the power goes out and he’s left with his own thoughts.

part one | part two | part three

w — modern! au, fluff, age gap, older man/younger woman, Sukuna is 36 & Reader is 22/23, slowburn, pining (on Sukuna’s end), Sukuna thinks too damn much in this one but he’s so intrigued by reader he can’t help it haha, celebrating Christmas solely to feel happy and not lonely (sorta; on both ends), this was originally named “snow sparrow” but then was unhappy with it lmao, and many other tags I may have forgotten lmao

[ divider credit @/inklore ]

A man as wealthy as him shouldn’t be seen outside of the fancy home and set of cars he owns. His bank account is big, too big to be standing in the elevator of a simple apartment complex. Although the place is nice, he thinks. It’s not older than him and dilapidated and run down like some awful things he’s seen, nor was it built fresh and fancy and made to be super expensive. It was simple, and a despite liking the finer things in life, he found the simplicity rather… nice for a change.

This was only half-scheduled: meeting you at your place for the holiday. You’d been with Yuuji for a final essay assignment before the school break. Nothing major, just helping him edit grammatical errors and fix his repetitive word usage. That was two weeks ago; two weeks have passed since you made an offhand comment about “two bored people being bored together” for the the holiday.

Sukuna would never deny he wouldn’t outright admit it either that his little brother living with him brought something great into his life: a woman that he enjoyed challenging him, bringing him a new sense of vigor for life beyond the seven sins he was accustomed to.

His hands seem to be sweaty, though he’d like to think it was because of the several bags of Chinese takeout in his large hand. His left? Probably from having his phone in his hand too much. Yeah, that sounded right. He has no reason to be nervous. Why should he be? No need to dwell on it any further.

He passes by only maybe four or five people on his way up to your apartment that’s on the top floor. The few people he does encounter don’t meet his gaze; instead either intimidated or dumbstruck by his monstrous height and imposing aura and can only make a quick glance at him, probably wondering what such a person like him, especially as big as him, was doing in such a simplistic, plain apartment complex.

Sukuna eyeballs the door numbers, even on the left and odd on the right. Yours is four doors down on the right, 407 if he remembers correctly.

No, he remembers perfectly. Why wouldn’t he?

Sukuna knocks twice and readjusts the bags of warm food in his other hand. He catches himself shifting his feet underneath him like a nervous schoolgirl and almost cusses at himself, had it not been for the tiny metallic click of a lock.

You seem surprised, bewildered slightly that he’s really standing in front of your apartment door. Like you hadn’t actually expected him to take you up on the half-joking offer of spending the holidays together as two “lonely people.” You’re essentially a deer in headlights.

But a beautiful deer in headlights.

He can smell the subtle scent of lavender from you, a smell he hadn’t expected, but was certainty… entranced by it, and with a hint of something fruity mixed in there as well. The soft, navy blue sweater leans slightly more off of your left shoulder, revealing the black bra strap underneath. The black leggings you’re wearing make images go through his head that he’s tried to keep in behind the doors of his office and bedroom. You don’t even have to wear makeup, even try in the slightest to look as beautiful as you do. You’re natural, and you’re not afraid of it. You’re already confident in your own skin, even at your younger age. And heavens, does he love it.

“I didn’t think you’d actually come.” Just like he thought. “But come on in. That’s smells good.”

Sukuna doesn’t get to see the cartoon cow slippers you’re wearing until he’s taking off his own shoes at your front door. His mouth quirks up in a small grin.

Adorable.

“Food can go on the table,” you say, gesturing to the low, long and flat coffee table in front of the couch. “I’ll get drinks. Sorry if you don’t like tea, but that’s all I got.”

“That’s fine.” His voice sounds almost foreign to himself as he stands in an unfamiliar place. But at the same time, he thinks it fits. Like he belongs here in this simplistic but nice apartment of yours, here with you having dinner and spending- You know what, he can stop thinking for a moment and focus on the present.

He’s in deep thought as he takes in the expanse and decor of your home further. It’s nice, definitely nicer than what he expected. His eyes take it all in, but finishes when his eyes land on the cute little Christmas tree tucked away in the corner beside the door to the patio, with tiny, glittery ornaments twinkling as the interwoven, multicolored lights shine against them.

God, you’re almost too cute.

But he couldn’t help but wonder for a small moment how you were faring expenses for this place, alongside groceries and going to school most of the time.

“You must manage your finances well to live here,” he hums.

“I’m not as dirt poor as I used to be, I’ll say that,” you reply. “But even then, being stingy will always be ingrained into my DNA.”

“Even if you have the world at your feet?”

You point to him with the index finger wrapped around your cup of tea, smiling. “Keyword: always~ World or not, the bare necessities are fine for me.”

He swallows down what your words do to him and tries to keep a straight face. He doesn’t like it, doesn’t like the way you inadvertently say you’ll always feel like you’ll never have anything to desire or genuinely want outside of pure necessity. Sukuna doesn’t like how natural it sounds, how uncaring you are towards wanting more than what you have now. He knew you were like this somewhat, but not to this extent. It makes him… a little angry.

So, now he knows the diamond necklace he bought you won’t be received like he wants it to be.

Guess I’ll have to save it for another time, he notes tactfully, watching you settle the food on the table and hop onto the couch and get comfortable.

The ambience of your home is a change of pace Sukuna didn’t know he needed. Until now.

He’s a giant, giant man, so he takes up most of the couch, even with it being relatively large in itself. You don’t seem to mind however, with the way your feet are barely a centimeter away from touching his leg.

“Any movie or show preferences?”

“Anything but Yellowstone.”

You snort. “What do you have against Yellowstone?”

“Dialogue’s too goddamn fake.”

You toss your head back and let out a boisterous laugh, giggling like a madwoman.

“So, the Powerpuff Girls then?”

“You’re not five.”

“Everyone has an inner child.”

Sukuna grumbles. “Just put it on fuckin’ Yellowstone.”

You throw your hands up in mock surrender, right hand only a few fingers lifted from holding the remote. “How about… Squid Game?”

“For a Christmas show? You’re weird as hell.”

“The Nightmare Before Christmas?”

Sukuna chuckles and shakes his head. “I’ll let you decide.”

The spooky movie is ultimately what you choose, and Sukuna finds it nothing short of amusing. He’s not fully interested in the movie, mostly interested in you and the quirkiness that made you choose such a movie on a day like this. His eyes flicker between you and the movie, watching you munch down on the lo mein.

It’s been ages since Sukuna has allowed himself to indulge in relaxation, allowed his mind to think of absolutely nothing but the childish movie in front of him that was picked out for him.

One would think a man like him would let his attorneys and the supervisors directly underneath him do all of the thinking for him while he bathed in his own riches. Sukuna did, yes; he used to. But he knows that one step too far into indulgence could mean the end of everything he put all of his blood and sweat into. And that was why he was so involved in his business, rather than let someone else handle it.

But here he was: indulging himself. (But it wasn’t the same as being on a yacht with women somewhere in the Caribbean.) Perhaps the difference was it wasn’t indulgence of sin, but rather the indulgence of peace and quiet; the desire for more than the company of a one-night stand.

You certainly deserved better than any sort of degrading, essentially whore-like treatment the women he used to be around were given and treated themselves as. You were nothing like them, not even slightly; you would never willingly to jeopardize your morals and dignity, not even for a chance to be with someone like him, as wealthy as him. That kind of interest was on the back-burner. As much as he hated it, he respected it just as much.

Sukuna half-watches the movie as he eats the takeout, not having seen it since one of his first girlfriends as a teenager introduced him to it. It was never important, never intriguing enough for him — nothing but a waste. But now, since you chose it, now it was enough for him to watch it. He finds he enjoys Jack Skellington, amused by his desire to take over Christmas Town. He also feels some sort of similar between him and Jack, regarding Jack’s interest in Sally and him… with you.

“You want a refill?” you ask suddenly, drawing the man from his thoughts. Sukuna looks down, seeing that he was almost out of the tea. Had he been so deep in his own thoughts he didn’t know he’d been sipping away at the drink? He almost scoffs in disbelief.

“If you don’t mind,” he replies. But he figures he’s going to need to use the restroom soon.

“Bathroom’s first door on the left,” you say, getting up after pausing the movie. He’s dumbstruck for a moment. Were you a mind reader?

Sukuna watches you in the reflection of the television. Even just refilling the drinks, you manage to enamor him. You seem so poised, yet so uncaring that someone of his status was sitting in your living room, watching a corny Halloween movie for Christmas. Perhaps being so uncaring went hand-in-hand with how poised and calm you were? There shouldn’t be any other explanation than that.

But why? He wondered what made you unlike the other women, even ones at your age that were nothing but a flustered mess at the mere sight of him. Why weren’t you the same?

He excuses himself to the bathroom and makes it quick. He sees the bottle of lavender body wash, then notices the shampoo, conditioner — the fruity smell he inhaled earlier. With a quick glance, Sukuna sees no perfume either, which perplexes him.

There’s no way she could possibly… Sukuna ponders, but doesn’t finish the thought. And all of a sudden, the lights flicker, hard. It’s something that’s been happening for the last hour or so, but it’s been something he’s ignored until now.

Sukuna ambles back into the living room, seeing the lights dim just as hard as a few seconds ago. Your still in the kitchen, but narrow your eyes slightly at the darkened lights.

“I didn’t see this place as having bad electricity,” he hums, sitting to face the TV, continuing to watch you in the reflection.

“It doesn’t,” you reply. “I suspect the snowstorm’s fixing to get bad enough to knock the power out soon. Now would probably be a good time to leave. I can still see a few snow plows out.”

“I’ll pass,” he replies coolly. “Besides, two cold and lonely souls are better than one.”

He doesn’t know why you let out a tiny snort and giggle, but you do. (A little flower of pride wants to bloom in his chest.)

You lift the lid to the slow cooker and stir. The smell of chocolate reaches his nose after you seal it.

“It’s almost done,” you suddenly speak, “if you’re done watching my reflection in the TV, would you like some hot chocolate?”

Busted. Sukuna knows that he’s now the deer in headlights; his heart thumps harder in embarrassment like a schoolgirl’s would.

“How sweet is it?”

“I’ve no idea. I fucked around with the recipe, so we’ll just have to find out.”

A sudden click is heard, and all the lights fade instantly. It’s completely dark, pitch black almost that neither you nor Sukuna can see in front of yourselves. He moves to stand, but you interject. “Sit, please. I don’t need your big ass knocking my shit over. Nor you getting a concussion.”

Sukuna laughs. “You have it covered then?”

“Could walk this place if I was blind,” you joke with a small snicker.

He watches you find four different candles to light up your apartment, one each for the kitchen and bathroom, and two for the living room. You disappear into your bedroom down the hall for a few moments, then you come back with a surprising, heaping mess of blankets hiding your form from nearly head-to-toe.

“Help me, please? Don’t let it fall on the food.”

Sukuna stands and his big arms wrap around the bundle of blankets, lifting them from you with ease. You pluck one from his grasp and quickly put it over the couch for extra warmth. You’re not about to freeze your ass off with him here.

You get under the blankets fairly quick. It takes nearly two king-sized ones you’ve had tucked away to cover the colossal man that is Ryomen Sukuna.

“Think the food is still warm?”

“Barely.”

“Are you gonna finish the lo mein then?” you ask.

“You can have it.” He half wishes he hadn’t eaten before he came so he didn’t seem so… uninterested in the food.

You have absolutely no shame devouring the remaining food as much as you possibly can in front of him. You eat as much as you can, but there’s still enough of the food left for him if he wants it. It just a matter of it getting cold, you think.

The temperature drops faster than you anticipate though. When you chuck the empty box of noodles into the trash from the living room (you made it, huh, that’s weird) a gust of wind rattles the patio doors, seemingly almost shaking the foundation of the complex. You hear a hum of surprise from the older man next to you as you huddle under the covers more. You shudder from the onslaught of the cold.

Sukuna sighs heavily. He pulls his arm from the blankets “Come ‘ere.”

He almost laughs at the blanched expression on your face. But after a few moments, you cave, scooting yourself closer to him until you two were practically touching thighs.

You squeak as he lifts one of the blankets with one hand and you with the other, trapping you under the second layer.

You shake your head and snort. “God, you’re shameless.”

Sukuna belts out a boisterous laugh. “Shame has never come easy for me.”

You scoff playfully. “I’m sure it hasn’t.”

“Nor does it for you,” he retorts.

And then you admit something that’s going to be on his mind for the rest of his time here. And perhaps for days after this, too: “Mine is more of a learned habit.”

Another gust of bitter cold shakes the patio doors again. You shiver. “Jesus, I didn’t expect it to get this cold.”

“Or for the power to go out.” He huffs. Like second nature, for both of you, he pulls you closer, and you lean into his massive body, taking in the heat his body.

Goodness, you think, closing your eyes, he’s a furnace…

Today certainly hadn’t gone as he expected. The last thing he was anticipating was a snowstorm blowing out the electrical system for several cities, snow falling several good feet and keeping him in the apartment of the woman he’s fallen for.

But you’re what is consuming his mind.

You’re on his lap, eyes closed and resting your head on his chest. You’re so small. Regardless of height, virtually anyone would be smaller than him; he’s a behemoth of a man, yes he knows it.

You, compared to him, are simply tiny, like a bird in the hands of a giant. So delicate, so small and cute. But as delicate as you are, you’re not glass. You’re small like a sparrow, but at the same time you desire freedom, using your wings to fly wherever and do whatever, regardless of how hard life would make your wings have to flap. Your soul isn’t easy to chain down… It’s beautiful.

“Does your brain always run a billion miles a minute this late?”

He grumbles. “Sleep, would you?”

“Your brain has no depth, does it?” you say. Then you ask, “Are you even okay with me sleeping on you?”

“If I wasn’t, we wouldn’t be in this position, would we?”

You yawn in reply, nestling your head comfortably on his torso. A small “okay” leaves your lips, and you seemingly have no problem steadying your breath and falling asleep against his chest. It’s nice, being that way for a good few minutes. Well, until you prove you’re not asleep like he thought.

“Wanna talk about it?”

Sukuna almost jumps and cusses, “Goddamn it.” You seem to know that you’ve startled him and laugh in return.

You keep conversation easy; although the two of you talk anything but what is on his mind. That’s not something he’s ready for. He’s still sorting out his own feelings, seeing if they’re beyond just being enthralled with you and your personality. Seeing if what he’s feeling is just high intrigue for you as a person, or whether what he’s feeling is going to lead to something more, beyond intrigue and fascination.

Because he knows that you won’t be able to stay forever. He knows that you, your soul, isn’t going to be easily bound by just anyone. He knows that you want to be unbound, he sees it in your eyes and hears it in your voice; he sees the desire to live freely in the way you carry yourself, the way you act and behave. But holy shit; does he want to be the one to change that.

You carry conversation easy, but eventually you fall asleep on him. The hot chocolate in the slow cooker is forgotten, but he’s sure it’ll be just as good in morning.

Sukuna, as he closes his eyes, wonders about the things you want. Where you’d want to go and the things you want to do. That kind of talk, however, is reserved for a time where there’s a deeper connection between the two of you. It’s reserved for a time where your walls are down and you’re no longer on guard, no longer having your walls built higher than heaven and deeper than hell.

For now, you two are two lonely souls celebrating Christmas, cuddled up to one another for the sake of warmth and nothing more during a sudden blackout.

It would be ludicrous to wonder if you’ve ever wanted to be loved and cherished, married to someone that would cradle your head and tilt it back to kiss you with the utmost devotion a human heart could give.

Now wouldn’t it?

a/n: I know that this is slowburn and everything, but it feels… superbly subpar? pls let me know if you guys think otherwise. this went about 85% of the original plot I had in mind so that’s a plus haha. I have full intent of picking up a bit on the romance aspect (of reader beginning to develop feelings) of this series in the next chapter, which briefly takes place after this one (I promise there’ll be at least one kiss)

—

taglist: (basically everyone that rb’d and commented on the first [for those that tagging worked on] ;; closed)

@vagabond-umlaut | @poe-daydreams | @thedovahqueen | @lotus-n-l0ve | @chiyoso | @miraclecherryblossomsblog | @unbreakableblueheaven | @marscatbutler | @vanillabloo | @wo-ming-bai | @visionsofmagic | @tohsri

[risuola]

DON'T HOLD BACK — F. READER x GETO SUGURU, who'’s as sweet as he's mean to you

If anyone got to know Suguru Geto, they would say that he's really nice guy, very kind and soft spoken, and they wouldn't be exactly wrong, but it seemed like you were the only person in the world that knows that Suguru, your tattoo artist boyfriend, is a meanie.

cw: smut, no-curse au, size difference, spanking, hair pulling, cunningulus, slight description of pain (tattoo related), so many pet names, Geto has tattoos and piercings (yup, that's a warning), there's an appearance od Satoru at the end, reader discretion is advised — 7,9k words

masterlist

If anyone would ask you few days ago what will you be doing on friday at 21:38pm, you’d probably respond with a large dose of confidence, that you’ll be resting in your bed. Maybe catching up on your favorite anime because you had no time to watch the newest episode during the week. You’d be lying comfortably, sipping on your favorite, fruity tea and if you’d feel fancy enough, maybe you’d even order yourself a pizza. That’s what you’d assume you’ll be doing late on friday, it sounded reasonable and reasonable is what you liked to call yourself.

Making spontaneous decisions is not a trait you’d give to your personality. You were always the one to think at least twice, usually more like seven times, before you commit to something, especially when it came to serious things such as body modifications or a choice of college. You were an overthinker, a helpless one to be exact, but that got you through life somewhat safely up until the point of reaching the sophomore year at uni. Your grades were fairly good, you had a little circle of people that were close to your heart, and you couldn’t think of many that you’d actually call your enemies. Being called a bore by your best friend was just a side effect of your usually cold and calculated thought process, but it never bothered you.

That was just who you were – a helpless overthinker – so it’s only natural, that you couldn’t find an answer reasonable enough to explain why on earth, on late friday evening, while the clock was slowly but surely heading towards 10pm, you were standing in front of the deep purple, slightly flickering neon sign that read Curseive.

A clever concoction of something so dark and mysterious as a curse and the intricate art of lines and shapes that the font cursive is all about – it hung up high above the entrance, written in a way that mirrored the conflicting feelings and somehow making it work. It was a tattoo salon, a relatively new one in your area, but it already had many good reviews online – or at least that’s what you assumed while doing the quickest research of your life. If scrolling through the messages left by customers for at most thirty seconds could be even called research. Why were you here? You had no clue, but you pushed the doors open and there was that little version of you sitting on your shoulder that wished you’ll just get asked out, because the salon was closing in about 20 minutes, but you decided to ignore the frail voice in your head and move forward.

When you stepped inside, it was empty in the lobby where the little sofa was situated for those who are waiting and a desk that was probably a reception. Dark walls around you were adorned by paintings that on the first glance looked to you like were handmade. Quickly you found yourself lost in the soft sound of buzzing that mixed with the quiet rock music playing somewhere in the background, as you began examining the artworks around you. One of the walls was made into a gallery of sorts, with the photographs of finished tattoos and printed patterns displayed in an array, supplemented with little descriptive notes and sometimes comments, that you assumed were left by clients. All of them were breathtaking and although you couldn’t see yourself rocking most of those heavy inks on your own skin, you were more than happy to appreciate and analyze. The precision of lines, the shading, the colors and composition – all of those tickled your artistic soul in ways not many things could and maybe it was the aesthete in you who stopped you from decorating your own body until this point, because fact is – you thought about getting a tattoo many times before. You really did and even had a pattern you really wanted, but it just scared the shit out of you to think someone could butcher it up and charge you for the mess. So, you never made an appointment. Until now. Now you were determined to do so.

You took one deeper breath, as if encouraging your own self to speak up and make your presence inside more obvious. The subtle scent of antiseptics and inks filled in your lungs as you inhaled, but instead of giving you more courage, you became more nervous. It’s just an appointment, you thought to yourself, you can always call later and say you have to call it off. Yeah, that sounded like a plan in your head and with that plan, your legs automatically moved towards the exit, despite what you wished to do.

“Running away, princess?”

That voice. You couldn’t mistake it for anyone else, you knew the soft, tender tone that even laced with malice sounded so pleasurable to the ear. You knew the owner, although not that close, but you met him many times – not one of them being all that nice. It was Suguru Geto, one of the biggest heartthrobs in your college. He rocked a disposable, black surgical mask that was pulled down under his chin and a pair of black gloves that he was in the process of taking off. Silver earrings glistened in the dim light of the salon, just as his rings were when he finally dealt with the hand protection. Your eyes glazed over the metallic accessories he had on – that also tickled something inside of you, triggering an unknown fantasy of having those long, ringed fingers of him deep in your… Suguru had nice hands.

“I’m not running away,” you told him, hoping that your voice was as firm as you intended it to be. Spoiler alert, it wasn't.

“No? Looked like it.” He chuckled, throwing the latex to the designated trash. His tone was taunting, you felt so small under the weight of his golden gaze. “Are you lost, little girl? You don’t exactly fit in that place now, do you?”

“You’re working here?” The question slipped through your mouth as if it wasn’t completely obvious from the very fact that he was here, alone, equipped in safety gloves and a mask, so near the closing time.

“Do I work here?” He took a look around himself, taking the mask off his ears and throwing it away before once again looking at you. “It’s kinda my place, so yeah, you could say so.”

That actually made sense the more you thought about it. Suguru was your senior, he was two years older and now finishing college. You had some of the faculties joint with his year and you were always the one to sit beside him – by the orders of the teacher, not by your own choice, although sitting next to him wasn’t that bad usually. You can clearly remember that during every lecture, he was doodling something on the screen of his ipad – something that you never really paid attention to because for your own good, you decided that staying away from the so-called frat boys was the best you could do. All this time, he probably was designing tattoo patterns.

“Right, so-“

“I assume, if you’re here that means you’d like to have something inked, is that correct?”

“Y-yeah, but, uh-“

“Are you 100% about it or did you come here to stutter?” You couldn’t tell if he was genuinely curious about your decisions or just mocking your nervousness, but either way, you felt it in ways you probably shouldn’t. This man had some power in his demeanor, and when he leaned over the counter, propping himself on the elbows and looking at you like a predator would glance at his pray, you felt small.

Suguru wasn’t the typical fuckboy, although he for sure was a magnet for the ladies, thanks to his absolutely stunning visual. That, you couldn’t deny – he was just gorgeous, with his sharp features that somehow still looked soft and inviting, the golden irises of his eyes that never faltered from eye contact, manly jawline and long, luscious locks of black hair that he often tied in a low bun. You never seen him in anything that wasn’t grey or black – white when it really was an odd day – but other than that, he was dressing in monochrome and you truly couldn’t blame him. He was a type to make the most boring sweats set look like the sexiest outfit on earth with just the fact that it was him who wore it. Yeah, he was gorgeous, you had to give him that, or rather blame him for that, because his apparition was for sure going to be the beginning to your end. Speaking dramatically, of course.

“I’m sure.” You forced out, mentally kicking yourself for being caught off guard just because it was him. You were never that taken aback near him, but you were also never alone with him. It was easier to stay indifferent when there were people around, when all of his focus wasn’t targeted at you and when that gorgeous pair of eyes wasn’t gazing straight into your soul. You felt like he could read your thoughts just by looking at you.

“Cool. So, let me close and you’d tell me what’s your vision.”

Suguru found your presence in his studio amusing. He’s seen you at uni, you were quite known in his circle of friends that unofficially were called the frat boys, even though your college didn’t really have this kind of organization. It’s due to your friendship with the cheerleader’s leader, but thing is – although you’re close with most of the fun girls, you were most definitely no fun whatsoever and for some reason, Geto found it interesting. And the fact you never faltered to speak up for yourself… How he’d wish to fuck the attitude out of you. He himself wasn’t exactly the type to party until blackout, drink until sunrise or have a checklist for girls to screw at the college. He had no wish to cross any names off of any list. Aware of his good looks, he used them to their limits to make his way through studies smoother and there were not many things that he couldn’t achieve if he tried hard enough. Even the principal of his faculty had a soft spot for him, so many things he was able to get away with. That being said, if he really wanted to have a girl, unless she was really hooked in someone else, he would probably face no issues of getting her. That’s what he thought, until you came to picture. Considering every charm and trick he had up his sleeve, he was almost certain that getting you wouldn’t be so easy for him, or for any of his friends. And now you were here, in his shrine, trying to sound confident when you most certainly weren’t. Adorable.

You watched him pulling down the shades in the windows and turning keys in the lock, effectively closing you both inside the studio and in a matter of few minutes, you were situated with him on the couch, sitting quite snug as you scrolled through your phone to find the picture of your little drawing. It took everything from you not to melt into his side. The way he smelled was intoxicating, a mixture of cedar wood, pepper and some kind of citrus – a tangerine if you were to guess. And the warmth of his body was so inviting. Before being so close to him, you didn’t even notice how cold you were – apparently your shorts and a sweatshirt weren’t good enough for the October evening, even though during the day it still was way too warm for the fall attire.

Geto waited patiently for you to find the picture you just told him about. The sketch you did that was meant to present him the idea of what you wanted to have tattooed onto your skin and as you were scrolling through your gallery, he took this time to take you in. He noticed that you have a really nice profile. Your lips were pouty, just slightly pushed forward and so kissable right now, as you were focused on the display in front of your face. Your hair looked good also and he couldn’t deny the fact that you looked like you’d perfectly fit into his arms. And on his dick. You were way smaller than him, but that wasn’t unusual – he was a fucking giant, but something in your frame made you appear like you’d slip into his embrace just right and that thought make him go crazy. It’s been quite some time since he found a girl so captivating.

“Here, I found it,” you informed, showing him the screen, and he placed his hand over yours, slightly shifting the device so he can see it better. A hum left his mouth as he analyzed the drawing you did. It showed two betta fishes, one black and one white, positioned in circle, as if they were chasing each other’s tails. The pattern was intricate – the fins were ruffled and detailed, scales bearing a little bit of shading and yet, the whole image was quite a simple one. It also reminded him a little about the yin and yang symbol. He liked the idea, it worked well with his perception of you and what surprised him was the fact that he as well had a little tandem of bettas tattooed on his body and there was no way you’d know that.

“And where would that be?”

“I thought on the sternum maybe?”

“Oh, that’s going to hurt like hell, princess,” Suguru chuckled, already opening the new canvas on his tablet. “How are you with pain?”

“I’m pretty sure I’ll be good,” you accentuated the words with a nod at the end and leaned in a little bit to see what he began to draw. The pencil slid over the grey colored screen with skill that stunned you. Just from memory and the little reference you had in your hand, he quite quickly created the basic sketch of what you just showed him.

That night you spent two hours with him on the couch in his salon, admiring in quiet the process of creating a finished artwork. You enjoyed every second of it, the artistic sequence of lines made something unbelievably good, impressing you to the very core, even though you already looked through the little gallery he had on the wall. Seeing it being put down in real time made it that much more captivating and you didn’t even notice how during the process you glued yourself to him, nearly laying your head over his strong shoulder, but he didn’t seem to mind at all.

When he was about to finish, you understood why he chose grey background to work with. As the last step, he dragged the white color over one of the fishes and that really made the whole piece magical.

“That’s perfect,” you told him when he tilted the screen so you could see it better. Taking his ipad in your hands to closer examine the creation of his hands, you nearly gasped at the incredible detail he put into the scales, shading each and every one individually. And the tails were so beautifully drawn, perfectly reflecting how they would just flow in the water.

Geto would lie if he said that the admiration your eyes were overflowing with wasn’t fueling his pride. Sure, his clients liked his projects – obviously, cause they let themselves be tattooed with them, but somehow the sparkle in your eyes sent a shiver down his spine.

“Is that so?” He purred, wrapping his arm around your back and planting his hand on the curve of your hip. There was no protest from you – quite the contrary, Geto noticed you even scooted a little closer, but the reason made itself apparent sooner than he’d expect. Even through the fabric of his dark washed jeans he could feel how cold was your thigh when it made full contact with the side of his leg. He placed a hand over your naked skin to check if his senses weren’t fooling him. “Gosh, you’re so cold.”

“It’s nothing,” you tried to shrug it off, but the feeling of his palm pressed against your plump flesh sent searing impulses through your nervous system. Slowly, you became almost painfully aware of how pleasant the near proximity of him was. How perfectly warm he felt next to you and your mind couldn’t help but wonder how it would feel to be even closer. You actively tried to suppress those thoughts, but it was damn difficult, when he was just right there, so easy to reach.

“You look great in those shorts, but the summer is over, pretty,” Suguru muttered, his voice just slightly amused as he let his fingers smooth over the supple flesh of your inner thigh. He was so close to where you wanted him to be and yet so far.

“Yea, I know. It was warm during the day though. I was supposed to be home hours ago,” you confessed with a sigh, already thinking about the cold you have to walk through to get to your apartment. It wasn’t far, but if you were freezing inside Curseive, you’d most likely turn into an icicle when you get out, considering it was already midnight.

“Well, let me schedule your appointment and I’ll take you home.”

“Sounds perfect.”

“I’ll set you up for next month, so you’ll have plenty of time to chicken out,” he teased, shooting you a wink and making you roll your eyes.

That night, you did many things you’d call unreasonable. You spent few hours in closed space with a man you probably shouldn’t have anything in common, you leaned into him without giving it a second thought. That night you made an appointment to your first tattoo. That night Suguru carried you home in his arms, wrapped in a blanket he kept in the studio in case someone felt cold during the inking process. And that night, you let him into your bed.

If anyone was to meet Suguru for the first time, they’d probably say he’s absolutely perfect human being. Kind and always keen to help, very soft spoken and caring and mostly, they would be right, because he really was all of those things to the public eye. Before, you considered him a red flag, but it turned out, he didn’t leave you alone after he fucked you. You expected him to be gone as soon as he pulled his dick out of you, you expected him to ignore you after that night, but he stayed with you till morning, not even once letting go of you. You woke up to the soft kisses smeared over your shoulder and a little tickle of his hair brushing against your flesh instead of the cold bed.

You spend day after day at learning things about each other. You got to know how he liked his coffee in the morning, what foods he enjoy and what shampoo he uses to keep his hair so luscious and gorgeous all the time. Suguru noted to himself what sweets bring you the most joy, he discovered that the little scrunch on your nose when you’re laughing is the most adorable thing in the world and he also studied the playlist of your favorite music, finding out you share similar taste when it comes to songs. You spent hours drawing with him, creating designs on his tablet while sitting in between his legs, your back pressed to his broad chest. Sometimes he was suggesting changes to what you created and sometimes you were the one to add some details to what came from underneath his pen.

It’s been a month since you got together with him, or at least, since you started paying more attention to each other. With good dose of confidence, you could call him your boyfriend – even though it wasn’t officially talked through between you two, your actions made it pretty hard to deny. It just happened, after the first night together, you just became closer and there was no need to give it a title, when everyone knew you’re in relationship. You were holding hands in the campus, kissing publicly and spending time together for most of the breaks. You got to know his friends, his brothers and even got the password to unlock his phone. Yeah, it’s been only a month, but your bond with him developed quite quickly. Turned out, Suguru Geto wasn’t anything that you assumed he is. He’s lovely, really. Saccharine sweet if he really wants to be, but what no one seemed to be able to notice was that he really is a meanie sometimes.

Just like now, as you laid on the dark leathery bed in Suguru’s salon, already having enough of this whole idea of getting a tattoo and he only just started. To his credit, he did warn you that it’s going to hurt like hell, even suggested picking another place for your first tattoo with real concern in his voice, but you weren’t anticipating this kind of hell when you insisted you wanted it below your cleavage. It really was something you couldn’t compare to anything else in your life – maybe a kick in the shin, but continuous and in the middle of your chest.

Geto was working in focus, keeping his eyes on the pattern he was permanently imprinting onto your skin and taking little breaks from time to time to check on you. Last thing he wanted was you fainting there, and you felt like you were close. You couldn’t even focus on how the chocolate tasted on your tongue – the one he bought you, so you can have something to snack on during the process. The way his needles were stabbing the delicate, sensitive skin of your chest millions of times made you feel sick. The vibration of the machine reverberated directly into the bone below, enhancing the horrible experience and you could have sworn you were actually hearing the pain, while he was going over and over again through some areas. The choice of white ink made it that much worse, because to even make it properly visible, he had to re-trace the shapes more times and you felt each of them.

“Oh, you’re such a crybaby,” he teased softly, noticing the glistening trace of a tear that just rolled down your cheek. “Told you it’s gonna be a painful process.”

“Oh, shut up, Sugu,” you muttered, wiping the salty mark away and taking another chocolate. “Can we take a little break?”

“Let me finish that one and I’ll give you a minute. Sounds cool?”

“Uh-huh…”

You weren’t looking at what he was doing, and those little moments that he promised will get you that breather you asked for seemed to stretch for hours. The constant, sickening poking of the needles seemed to never end and at some point, you really were that close to just yank him by the hair and throw the tattoo gun out the window, just so he’ll stop for even a moment. But the break never came, Suguru just kept going, telling you he needs to just finish that line until the relief washed over you, when he smeared some kind of gel over the area of your sternum. You felt almost orgasmic, when the cold, soothing fluid covered the burning skin between your breasts.

“You can stop crying now, baby girl, we’re all done,” he all but sneered, making sure to cover the entire pattern with the healing formula that he made sure was enriched with anesthetics. He ordered that specially for your session.

“We’re done?” You repeated after him, wiping away the tears.

“Yes, baby, save those tears for me later.” He teased, helping you get up from the bed and you hopped down on the ground to properly see the artwork in the mirror. The skin around the lines was red, but the pattern itself made you gasp. It was made so beautifully, the lines were crisp and very thin, perfectly mirroring the vision you had, and the white ink? Gorgeous. Suguru put his entire soul into your tattoo, it was a mark he left on you that will stay there forever and sometimes you wished he’ll stay with you just as long.

“You’re so mean,” you grumbled, admiring the shapes that now were stuck to you permanently. Geto laughed quietly and wrapped his already ungloved hands around you, standing right behind and checking his work in the reflection.

“And what’s my crybaby gonna do about it?” He couldn’t help the mock and the glare you shot him only made his laughter bigger.

“I’ll ban you from my bed,” you deadpanned, a soft pout forming on your mouth and you slapped his hand away when he tried to undo the only button that held your tiny cardigan together.

“Then I’ll take you to mine and you’ll have to deal with Satoru sleeping with us. You know he can’t help himself and you know how that will end, right?”

“I know, I know…” you sighed, too focused on the lines that adorned your skin to care about the clinginess of Gojo, although you felt the soft cringe washing over you quickly. The artist in you was screaming, giggling and kicking its legs – the tattoo was everything you wished it to be and more. “It’s so beautiful, Sugu.”

“You like it, huh?” Geto smiled, leaning in to have a taste of you. The kiss he pressed to the side of your neck sent immediate shivers down your spine and you tilted your head as an automatic reaction. Your body knew that giving him more space will result in more pleasure. “I like it too,” he purred against your skin. “No bra for you for at least few days, pretty. I’ll be checking.”

“No cum on my tits either, poor little you.”

“You didn’t just call me little, did you?”

“And if I did?”

“Isn’t my dick pretty much the size of your entire forearm?” He joked, looking you up and down in the mirror. It was comical in a sense, to see what buttons you were eager to push when it was clear as day that you’re just tiny next to him.

"I wouldn't say so."

“Oh, you little brat. And to think I felt guilty for making you cry today,” Suguru shook his head and it was you this time who chuckled.

“You shamelessly tortured me for two hours, where’s the guilt in that?”

“I could have tortured you for three. Am I not the best for making it quick?”

“You’d love to make me suffer for longer, wouldn’t you?”

“Not before, but now I might wanna make you cry a little more.”

You shook your head and followed him, so he could put the protective film over the tattoo and once you sat on the edge of the tattooing bed, Geto pressed not only the second skin to your chest but also his lips to yours. The force with which he leaned against you made you almost loose your balance as the metallic frame underneath you squeaked from the sudden weight change. With ease, the man encaged you between his arms, intimidating your small form with his much larger one. You were no match for Geto when it came to sizes. He is a damn giant next to you – tall and broad, nothing but wall of muscle with limbs long and strong. Sometimes, you found it unfair how easily he was able to overpower you, manhandling you any way he wanted, no matter how much you’d fight.

You grabbed onto his shoulders, feeling his weight overpowering you and you tried to push him away, desperate to catch some air into your lungs but that desperation only made you mewling into his mouth. The cold metal of his lip piercing never failed to send shivers down your spine, whenever he was kissing you like his life depended on it. He made you feel special, even though you were far from it.

“My sweet girl,” Suguru praised, his words being kissed away by you, because as much as you needed oxygen, you also needed him just a little bit closer. “My little crybaby.”

“I think you owe me some kind of apology for the pain you’ve put me through,” you muttered, grabbing his lower lip between your teeth and swiftly taking the elastic from his hair. The pitch-black locks fell down his broad shoulders, keeping the slightest curl to them from the way they were tied up.

“Oh yeah?” A grin stretched his lips and his fingers immediately found their way to the front of your jeans. “I’m not going to apologize for something you signed up for, but I’ll gladly eat that pussy as a form of payment.”

His remark made you roll your eyes, but any comment you wished to throw at him got lost when he pressed his digits to your clothed clit. Suguru smiled in satisfaction, feeling the wet patch spreading over your panties. Desperate to see it all, he pulled back and took those jeans off of you completely, taking your underwear along with it. Cold air hit your soaked folds, making you shiver as you spread out for him.

“Look at you,” Geto smirked, sitting down on his stool and spinning your panties around his pointer finger, “all wet and ready and I barely just touched you. Or is it that pain you’re so whiney about what made your panties so soaked?”

“Don’t focus on that,” you muttered, snatching the cotton from his hands. “Focus on me.”

“So demanding.” Suguru chuckled, but truth was, as much as he wished to tease you a little more, his mouth was already watering at the sight in front of him. You were a meal he’d choose to have as his last supper, the most delicious dessert he could slurp on for hours and never get bored. Every inch of you, he found to be perfect, you raised the bar of his standards to the point he couldn’t even look at other girls around him. You really got him addicted and he wasn’t even mad about it.

The feeling of hot kisses Suguru was planting all over your thighs made you scoot closer to the edge. Usually, you’d let him do his thing – you loved his mouth marking your skin. You loved the bruised spots he liked to suck on here and there only to claim his place beside you, you loved the soft touches and harsh grips. But now, you really wanted him to jump straight to action. Those nips and kisses can wait.

You allowed your fingers to brush through his silky locks, your nails scratched his scalp along the way and he purred softly before a gasp cut the sound short – it surprised him how roughly you grabbed the strands of his hair, right next to his scull and pushed his head nose deep into your pussy. It was new to him, no one ever dared to tug at his hair and when it was you, he was more than keen to get used to it. The stinging feeling of the pull at his hair follicles sent an impulse straight down to his already erected cock, making it now impossibly hard and Suguru was thanking himself that his work attire that day consisted of sweatpants and not jeans.

You couldn’t help yourself, you knew he had the strength to fight you back if he really needed, so his suffocation wasn’t any of your concerns. And Geto took the challenge with pleasure. His pierced tongue danced over your clit as if he was trying to tattoo his own name over the swollen bud between your folds. The mixture of his hot muscle and cold metal made you whine above him, squeezing his hair even harder, pushing his head even deeper. A low, deep purr that left his throat reverberated through your entire nervous system and sipping into the bloodstream, making the pleasure rush inside your veins instead of blood.

“Oh my god, Suguru-“, you breathed out, coming undone just underneath the skill he had in his mouth. He was eating you out like his life depended on it, like he would die if he won’t bring you over the edge just with his tongue, like he was born to pleasure you. A coil quickly began to form in your stomach, a string threatening to snap at any given moment if he’ll continue with the intensity of his actions. Your thighs trembled, squeezing around his head, but he held them apart with force. He wasn’t done with you yet.

You couldn’t control the way his name was leaving your mouth; it came out like a prayer that he’d love to listen on repeat for the rest of his life. A music that filled his ears with pleasure and that pleasure seeped down, creating a river of ecstasy running down straight to his straining cock. You really got him to the point he felt he’s going to cum in his pants, but then the hold on his hair loosened. He used that moment to catch a breath before going back to his work.

“Don’t hold back,” he purred, keeping your hand where it belonged over his head, getting rid of any guilt you felt regarding pulling at his hair. You came not long after and he happily slurped you through the bliss, licking away everything you gave him, devouring your pussy as if nothing better was ever going to happen to him. “So sweet,” he grinned, finally pulling away. His face covered with your slick and hair messed up from where you held it, and he looked so beautiful like that when you looked back at him. Surrounded by haze of your release, he looked nearly angelic when he got up, pushing back the stool and taking his rightful place between your still trembling thighs. Giving you a moment to collect yourself, Suguru used it to take off his t-shirt for no other reason that to feel your hands over his skin and you were quick to press your palms over his tattooed flesh.

Geto’s body was only one of things that were impressive about him, but unarguably one of the most breathtaking. Years of training martial arts made his shape resemble the stone statues of gods. A hard wall of muscles covered with a light layer of soft skin and adorned by black lines of ink. You never failed to trace your fingers along the dragon that curled around his entire arm and spreading onto his chest. He also had a line of letters underneath the side of his ribcage and two betta fishes swimming up along his spine, following a trace of abstract lines and dots. He had told you once about the meanings beside all of images that adorned his body, but you couldn’t recall them now as he was once more kissing you feverishly. You tasted yourself all over his mouth, you took in his purrs and low groans that vibrated in his throat when you pushed down the waistline of his sweatpants, palming him through his boxers.

Geto grabbed your thighs, repositioning you closer the edge.

“Shouldn’t I avoid any physical activities with that tattoo so fresh?” You asked him with the littlest teasing undertone and he grinned, kissing your lips and everywhere around them with fervor.

“I’ll go slow, babygirl,” he promised, but slow is hardly the word he’d use once he pushed his girth into you. If you were a drug, Suguru was addicted to the point of no return, he never had enough of you, always too little, always eager for more and more and more. You were a godsend to him, a gift he was certain he never deserved but he cherished it with all of his might. Just like with all of his might he began thrusting into you.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, hooking them above his pelvis as if you needed to make sure he’s not going anywhere. Soft pants and whimpers were leaving your mouth every time his hips collided with yours and the sounds you were making concocted an erotic symphony with the low grunts he let slip through his throat. The melodic line of mixed voices, quiet praises and heavy breaths accompanied the desperate squeaking of the bed below you and wet reminders of how he was fucking into your dripping pussy.

Every ruthless push and pull of his hips sent surges of pleasure through your body. Lust and heat erupted inside of you like a volcano and the searing lava of endorphins turned your brain into a flurry. The room around was lapsing, nothing else mattered and even the untrusty bed underneath you, that held there just barely underneath the force of Suguru’s relentless slams couldn’t bother you when he was fucking you that good.

Flaming hot waves of white covered your vision as you hid your face in the crook of Geto’s neck. Panting for air, you held onto his shoulders harshly, digging your nails into the flesh there and marking it in red with crescent moons and scratches. The stinging pain made him whine in excitement, the sound low and prolonged enough to make your walls clench and flex around him. The stretch of his cock was setting your mind ablaze along with your body, your heart was beating fast and threatening to jump out of your chest.

“Sugu-ru-ah~”, you were panting, whimpering shamelessly under the force of his pelvis slamming against yours and he grinned above you, his grip over your hips merciless and bruising.

“You’re taking me so well,” he praised, smearing wet kisses along the line that led from underneath your ear to your shoulder. Something incoherent left your mouth and you felt yourself close, the swollen walls of your pussy squeezing him repeatedly and he knew you were close but wasn’t ready to give it to you quite yet.

It’s like you blacked out for a moment because it felt like you barely blinked and then your position changed. You didn’t notice how swiftly Geto slid onto the bed himself, situating you over his lap.

“Hop on baby, work for it a little,” he mocked lovingly, giving your ass cheek an encouraging slap. There was barely enough place for the two of you, but you made it work anyway, sliding back down onto his dripping from your juices cock. A soft moan escaped your lips as his girth once again squeezed into your oversensitive insides, pushing against every sweet spot on the way and making you shiver as the tip kissed your cervix. Desperate to feel more of him, you began rolling your hips, working your way into the palace of pleasure that Suguru Geto was and making the most out of the current position. His exposed chest and neck begged to be devoured and you couldn’t leave them neglected, so your mouth was on his skin in no time.

Suguru kept bucking his hips upwards, gasping and growling underneath you. His hands left burning marks over your ass, each slap sending jolts of pleasure through your entire body and the little whines you were letting out against his skin fueled the intense fire that burned inside of him even more. Sometimes Geto couldn’t believe you really were with him. Sometimes he wondered if maybe he’s high on something, maybe he’s imagining you, but only thing he really was high on, was you. Nothing could compare to the way your tight pussy swallowed his cock, to the way your little hands were grasping his arms and shoulders just to steady yourself when his force was becoming too much and absolutely nothing could stand even close to the intoxicating feeling of your lips on top of his. You really were made just for him, it had to be fate that once you stumbled upon his studio. He still remembers the first time you let him in, spontaneously inviting him over and after that, every day seemed to be somehow better than the previous one. Every minute he spent with you managed to surprise him with how good it felt. Suguru was hooked on you. But how could he not, when you had the ability to strip him of everything that was cool about him, leaving him raw and sensitive just for you?

“Fuck, c’mon, cry for me,” he panted, forcing your hips to move even when you clearly were running low on power. Your entire body was tensing, the velvety walls of your pussy squelching over his length and he felt himself flexing inside the hot embrace of you. The rush of ecstasy sent him overboard, it filled his veins and neurons with blissful daze of desire, and he found himself chasing the high, bracing for the impact of upcoming climax.

You whined and melted into him, lost in the haze and diving head first into the puddle of pleasure. The feeling overtook you, you couldn’t think anymore when he was pulling you underneath the euphoric sea. You felt light from pleasure, the ferocity of his movements burning you inside out, sending seething waves throughout your entire form. With vision blurred, nothing felt real anymore and if not for the rough grip he had on your hip and ass, you’d probably fly away and never get back.

Lost in the stars and haze of orgasm, you pushed yourself up, encouraged by few more harsh slaps and Geto followed you to sit up for no other reason than to be able to still taste you. At this point you were sure he tattooed not only betta fishes onto your chest but also the imprint of his hands to your butt cheeks. Gathering every last bit of strength you had in your muscles, you rolled your hips against him few times more. All of the intensity that was building inside of you snapped suddenly. Your spine arched and head rolled back, exposing your neck and chest to his kisses as he pushed you over the edge of bliss and you fell off that cliff with nothing but acceptance. Tears of pleasure rolled down your face and Geto was quick to kiss them away as they gathered along your lashes and down your jawline.

The weak sound of his name slipping down your tongue was enough for Suguru to let go. White hot ribbons of cum sprayed deep inside you as you rode him through both of your orgasms, the movements of your hips now slower and sloppier, bearing no more strength in them and yet, time after time you pulled them back and forth, desperate to feel him a little longer, to take more from him.

“My little crybaby,” he cooed, when you finally run out of battery, settling down on him and leaning against his broad chest, hiding there to catch your breath. You were sore, still overwhelmed by the avalanche of feelings that just fell over your head but satisfied to the point of delirium – so much so that you let the little honey-covered taunt slip. Suguru smoothed your back softly, relaxing in your proximity, once again stunned how somehow, you managed to make all of it feel better than the last time you slept together. Highs with you were unforgettable. Nonreplaceable. Incomparable to anything else he ever felt with anyone.

“Thanks god you’re strong,” you muttered against his skin, planting there few kisses while you’re at it. “I don’t think my legs will work after that.”

Geto chuckled. Yeah, he was going to marry you one day.

“No worries, sweet thing, your place in my arms is secured for lifetime.”

“Good.”

“But first, let me get you cleaned up.”

Your legs were weak when you got off of him, but surprisingly carried you enough to allow you to slowly pull yourself together. Suguru cleaned the space a little while you got dressed and made sure the protective film over your fresh tattoo was unharmed during the activities before you buttoned up your cardigan.

* * *

“Suguru, you still here?” Gojo stormed in, even though the studio was locked, but truth was, nothing could really be locked when it came to Satoru.

“Don’t tell me you copied the keys to my studio.” Geto chuckled, finishing the final wipe of the bed. There was no force that could stop his friend from invading his spaces, he dropped the effort years ago.

“I won’t tell you, you got this.” Satoru shrugged and looked at you. Then at Suguru and back at you, repeating that at least few times. “Were you two fucking here?”

“And why would you ask that?”

“No, the real question is, did that thing endure it?” White haired man pointed at the leathery bed. “What a champ, I thought it’ll collapse.”

“Fair,” you admitted at the same time as Suguru, and handed your man the hair elastic that you snatched from him earlier.

“So, what were you doing here? Besides contaminating the area of course.”

“I got a tattoo,” you replied to him and Satoru grinned.

“For real? That chest piece he told me month ago that you’ll for sure chicken out for?”

“Yeah, that one.” This time it was you who laughed and Geto just shrugged, tying up his hair.

Satoru wasted no time, it’s like he teleported to you and before you registered what was happening, he was already unbuttoning your blouse and truly, you couldn’t really be bothered. It’s been only a little less than a month since you really got to know Gojo, but it was very quickly presented to you that him and your boyfriend have a thing for sharing. It was as natural for them as breathing and whenever you saw them together, you wondered how it happened that they weren’t brothers by blood.

“It’s so cool, Suguru. Who knows, maybe I’ll let you tattoo something on me too.” Snow white grinned, examining the concoction of lines over your sternum. He had to bend in half almost, to be in line with the pattern on your skin so you brushed through his hair, messing them more than they were already.

“Not that it’s my life mission to do so, Satoru.” Geto stretched his body and glanced over the room once more, making sure he can close the studio for that day without leaving any visible remnants of what happened just moments ago.

“Doesn’t it kinda look like us?” Gojo asked, stopping you before you covered yourself back. “The black and white contrast… am I the only one who think so?”

It wasn’t your intention, but as he said it, you began seeing it. It really made sense, especially considering that Geto mixed the tiniest bit of lavender ink to the white, to prevent it from yellowing over time. That lavender coincidentally being the exact shade as the undertone of Gojo’s hair.

“Well, not anymore,” the black haired one sighed and once you managed to button up your blouse, he swooped you up into his arms. “You’re gonna lock the doors, Satoru. Turn off the lights.”

“Sooo…” Gojo nearly sang, flicking off the switches and turning the keys in the locks, making sure everything is well secured before he joined you two, already walking slowly towards your home. “Are you ours now?”

[kingkatsuki]

— mess

When something that’s supposed to be a 500 word drabble turns into almost 2k.

Bakugou cums in his pants, but luckily for him he has you to help clean him up.

Warnings: 40 year old virgin!Bakugou, inexperienced Bakugou, experienced reader (or just more experienced than Bakugou), dry humping, premature ejaculation- Bakugou cums in his pants, blow jobs, cum swallowing, not proofread.

Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.

Word Count: 1.8k.

It was no secret to you that Bakugou Katsuki is a virgin.

Spending the majority of his earlier years chasing his dream of becoming number one, he’d barely found the time to form any sustainable relationships. The few that he’d started barely managed to last a few months before they broke down into nothing, the focus on his goals and dreams too strong to be pushed to the side.

Of course that didn’t stop the Internet and mainstream media from portraying him as a sex icon. Headlines and new stories would often talk about sordid exploits and the lines of women that he’d shared steamy escapades with, when in reality that couldn’t be further from the truth.

And even pushing forty, Bakugou Katsuki is still a virgin. Something that had never really bothered him before, content with working out his frustrations with his fist in the shower to ensure minimal clean up after. Bakugou hated making a mess.

But things were different with you.

You make it difficult for him to think, to remember to breathe as your tongue flicks against his parted lips to delve inside and your hips grind against his lap. The air is hot and heavy as rough hands scramble for purchase, settling on the plush of your hips as he tries to slow you down. To give him a second to think—

Maybe it was naive of him to expect a warm mug set down in front of him when you invited him in for coffee, and not your warm body straddling his hips instead.

Not that he was complaining.

Everything is all too much and not enough at the same time, as he finds himself using his grip to push you down against his crotch with purpose. Chasing that sensation as your lips pepper scorching kisses against the rough stubble littering his jawline.

In the three months you’d been dating, you’d never done anything like this. And Bakugou found himself wondering why you hadn’t, especially when it felt like this—

“Is this too much?” You managed to make out from between heated kisses, trying to stop yourself from grinding down on top of him. But it was easier said than done when your body craved the delectable friction he gave your needy clit.

“No,” He growled, “Fuck—”

The word tumbled from Bakugou’s lips as a desperate groan, your palm pressed against his sternum as he’s certain you can feel the swift thud of his heartbeat. As if you’re controlling it’s pace while your pretty whines are like music to his ears, a sound that has his cock throbbing desperately between his thighs. Everything feels so new, and yet he’s certain he’ll never tire of the sensation as your hips press down harder against his bulge.

“Katsuki.” The one word that seals his death sentence, the sultry lilt to your tone has him throwing his head back to rest against the couch as his hips jerk beneath you. Pushing his throbbing cock into your clothed cunt as he feels the heat radiating from you, crimson eyes rolling back as he feels it.

That sweet release that he’s been craving wracks through him in harsh waves, the euphoria inexplicable as for the first time he allows it to take over. Each muscle in his body relaxing as the pleasure consumes him whole, raspy groans tumble from deep in his chest as you pull back to stare at his face.

“Did you just—?” You smile, your fruity gloss smeared against his lips and cheek as the words finally have Bakugou crashing back down to earth.

“Shit.” He grunts, as the shameful reality begins to permeate his body, “I’m fuckin’ sorry, alright. I didn’t—“

What was he even supposed to say? He just came in his pants like a fucking teenager.

“I’ve never—”

“It’s not a big deal,” You smile, soft hands sliding up his body to stroke against his shoulders, “It’s kinda hot actually.”

It’s easy for you to say when you can’t feel the effects— his hot spend leaks from his engorged tip, his boxers stick to his skin uncomfortably as his release mattes in his trimmed pubic hair.

“Sorry,” He grumbles as you press a final lingering kiss to his cheek before starting to climb off his lap.

Embarrassment continues to seep through his body, feeling a heat rise to his cheeks as he prepares more apologies. Missing the closeness of you already, your warm hips in his hands as your body fits snug against him. He’s fucked it up this time—

But imagine his surprise when your knees nudge against his to spread his thick muscular thighs, dropping your body between them as you stare up at him with mirth.

“What’s so funny?” He almost snarls, the shame overpowers any other emotions as he prepares to stand up to excuse himself from the whole situation.

“Nothing,” Your eyes sparkle with mischief as you reach up to begin unbuckling the heavy belt he wears, “You have no idea how hot that was, do you?”

“What?” He frowns as his muscles stiffen when you unbuckle his belt and begin to pop his zipper, unable to stop the groan from slipping between parted lips when the metal grazes his softening bulge.

“You made such a mess, Katsuki.” You coo, the fabric of his boxers a dark grey from his spend as you press your thumb against it.

Baku you sucks a sharp breath through gritted teeth when your fingers slip beneath the hem, tugging them down to settle around his throbbing balls as you discover the mess he made. The mess that’s your fault, if anyone were to ask. The wet fabric tacks to his sticky skin as you peel it back, the air in the room hits wet skin as his release begins to dry.

“What’re ya doin’?” He mumbles, sliding a large palm along the length of his face to shield his eyes. As though that’ll stop the shame that still floods his body, the reality that he’s still an inexperienced virgin.

“Is this okay?” You answer his question with another one, leaning forward as your breath fans against his skin.

“Fuck—” He grunts, “Yeah— I—”

The question falls apart the moment you lean forward to lick a long, languid stripe against the underside of his semi-hard cock. Following the silvery streaks of his release as you taste the sharpness on your tongue, hips jerking when your tongue reaches his frenulum.

You can feel Bakugou getting hard again, heavy balls throb as your lips wrap around the blushing head, the tip of your tongue prods against his slit as you lap at the beads of cum that continue to ooze out of him. Wrapping a warm palm around his sticky length as you stroke him back to life, strong thighs squeeze your shoulders as you pull more delicious sounds from his throat.

Bakugou’s mind is hazy, uncertain that he can even cum again after the mind numbing climax he’d just experienced, but you’ve already made his mind up for him. Fingers circle around the base as your palm presses against his pubic bone, taking him deeper as his tip hits the back of your throat.

“Fuck, sweetheart,” He rasps, calloused hands ball into fists as blunt nails dig into his palms, “Is this what they’re callin’ coffee now’a days.”

“You don’t seem to be complaining, Katsuki.” You coo.

He’s already pent up as he tries to think of anything else to stop him from coming undone quite so fast this time. But it’s near impossible with the way your glossy lips feel wrapped around his cock, your tongue tracing the prominent veins that bulge along the underside as he bucks into your mouth.

A low hum vibrates in your throat as you take him deeper, teasing his balls with your fingers as you feel him begin to stiffen. His chest heaving with rough, labored breaths as you stare up at him from beneath thick lashes. Tempting him to give you all he’s got to give.

You subtly rub your thighs together for some kind of relief as your clit throbs beneath your soaked panties, imagining how the sheer size of him would fill you up and stretch you out. Imagining the delicious ache when he finally slides into your tight, wet heat.

Bakugou can already feel himself teetering on the edge of another climax. His fist no comparison to the way your warm, soft lips feel around his cock. Certain he’ll never be able to cum again without you, no way to scratch that itch without feeling you like this between his thighs.

“I’m gonna— fuck,” He groans.

A soft stroke of your thumb against his taint is all it takes to have him soaring into his release, his hips bucking wildly off the couch as he forces himself inside your mouth to the hilt. The neatly trimmed hairs at the base of his cock tickle your nose as the throbbing tip hits the back of your throat as he comes undone.

Catching his mess in your mouth as ropes of his warm spend begin to spurt from his thick cock. The desperate grunts that rumble deep in his chest do nothing to satiate the desire that brews inside you as you taste him on your tongue, taking everything he’s got to give you as you move up to circle the pink tip. Claiming the last few pearls of milky cum as Bakugou’s large palms move to the back of your head to pull you off his oversensitive cock.

“What was that?” He rasps hoarsely as you press a final, lingering kiss to the underside of his cock. The heavy weight of it lays flat against his crotch as you lean your cheek against his thigh, smiling up at him as you lick your lips in satisfaction.

“I was cleaning up the mess you made,” You tease, reaching up to playfully squeeze his balls. But this time Bakugou is quicker, his hand catches your wrist before you make contact has he frowns down at you from half-lidded eyes.

“That was all your fault.” He murmurs, the embarrassment still ebbs at the back of his mind as he’s reminded painfully how much of a virgin he still is. Certain that if that’s how your mouth felt, he wouldn’t last thirty seconds plunging into your tight cunt.

“My fault?” You part your lips in mock surprise, “You made a mess of me too, you know. You should be the one cleaning me up.”

“What?” He certainly didn’t do anything. Sitting back on the couch as he allowed you to use him as you so pleased.

“Yeah,” Your lips curled into a mischievous smirk, slipping your legs from beneath you as you spread your thighs on the ground between him. Your skirt riding up from the position as you gave Bakugou a show of your lacy panties, already feeling your slick staining the material, “You wanna see?”