#why yes he is always on the verge of a nip slip

[the-barefoot-hatter]

I think Bill should make nothing but horrible weird fashion choices forever because a) he's terrible b) it appeals to new wave lover Ford Pines c) he thinks he looks the COOLEST (and ford agrees)

[annwrites]

⸻ being aemond's niece, who he abducted, would include:

· tw: abduction, drugging, abuse, non-con, dub-con, stockholm syndrome, brainwashing, incest, victim-blaming · a/n: modern!au | gif

Since the day you were born, your Uncle Aemond has always adored you. 

He’s not always gotten along with your brothers, especially after a particularly nasty fight when they were children & your younger brother, Luke, brandished one of your father’s pocket knifes against him & took his eye.

But you’d been there to comfort him as his mother loosed her wrath upon your own for the transgression.

You’ve always been there for him.

Have always made everything better.

You are the light of his life.

The apple of his eye.

His heart.

The other half of his soul.

His life, his blood, his absolutely fucking everything.

As children, the two of you had been inseparable.

He’d spoiled you with toys & books & soft things, which turned to fine clothes & jewelry & perfume & flowers & whatever else your heart desired as you grew older.

He was ahead of you in school, so besides passing one another in the halls & sharing lunch together, you didn’t get to spend much time together there, unfortunately.

But outside of it, he drove you home nearly every day, even if Jace tried to insist upon it himself once he was gifted a car at sixteen. 

And if any of your male classmates so much as looked at you a way he disliked?

There had been one particular boy whose brakes went out in the brand new car his parents had purchased for him only a month prior to him winding up in critical condition in the ICU at a local hospital...

Aemond hadn't said anything of it, but had been rather pleased at his sudden absence from school, if nothing else.

He often invited you over to his house, or came over to yours, even if he was forced to begrudgingly tolerate the sight of your middle brother while there.

But once the two of you were closed away in your room together, he was able to relax as he took you into his arms, & took you often in your bed.

Being between your legs was being in heaven. 

Whether he was pleasuring you with his mouth, his fingers, his cock, or the many expensive toys he bought for you, all that mattered to him was that you were wanton & relaxed.

Aemond gently kisses your warm, wet folds while slowly tasting your delectable, flowing nectar.  “My beautiful niece,” he drawls lowly before nipping along your spread thighs. “I love you more than life itself. I would do anything for you. You know that, don’t you?”  You nod your head and your eyes flutter closed as you smile happily.   “Yes,” you whisper.  Aemond fists his cock tightly in his grip before crawling atop you and easing between your slick walls.  “You’re all mine.”  He begins to rock his hips against your own.   “You belong to me,” he whispers in your ear.  You swallow thickly.  “No one will ever love you like I do. We can’t be apart. Ever. I can’t live without you.”  He crushes his lips to yours as a hot tear slips down your cheek and you cringe slightly away from his sudden possessiveness.  “I won’t,” he breathes.

It feels as is life is perfect so long as you are in it.

So long as the two of you are together & have your sweet secret between you, he is content.

And then comes the day that he discovers college applications on the desk in your room.

He feels on the verge of either a panic attack or a violent display of anger when he begins to flit through them & sees that some are far, far away.

How could you do this? How could you even consider taking yourself away from him?

You fucking belong to him.

Belong with him for forever.

You should know better.

You do know better.

He has taught you as much from a young age.

So why, then?

Why?

Why?

WHY?

When you enter your bedroom, Aemond is sitting at the foot of your bed with a small stack of papers clenched tightly within his hands.  You open your mouth to ask him what seems to be the matter, but he breaks the taught silence first.  "How could you do this?" He whispers.  His one good eye flits to yours then and you watch as a tear rolls down his pale cheek.  You pad cautiously over to him and seat yourself next to him.  "They're just places I'm thinking about," you say softly, reassuringly.  You rest a hand upon his knee. "No matter where I go, we'll stay in contact. There's texting, call—" "Texting," he repeats quietly before dragging his malicious gaze back to you. He explodes then. He rips the documents in half before tossing the now-torn papers across the room, then he grabs a snowglobe he purchased for you some years ago from one of your bookshelves, and he throws the object against a wall but a few feet from you and you yelp in terror as the glass shatters. You act on instinct then and make a run for the door, until he grabs you by the hair at the back of your head and your feet slip out from under you as he tosses you back onto the bed. He climbs atop you and wraps one hand around your throat while the other tugs at his belt. Your eyes grow wide in fear and you shake your head fervently, unable to so much as scream for help now. And then your door bursts open and Jace begins screaming for him to get off of you. He begins striking him again and again, until the two of them fall onto the floor and Aemond quickly gains the upper-hand as he begins beating him mercilessly with his fists. Adrenaline is now racing through your veins as you scream for your father, for your mother, for anyone. You grab Aemond's arm and pull just as he's raising his fist to hit Jace again, and he instead clocks you right between the eyes. You hear something crunch, and then blood begins to pour from your nose, which you quickly cup between your hands.  Blood seeps between your fingers and drips onto the carpet, and it's only then that Aemond forgets entirely about your brother as he turns back to you and takes your face roughly between his hands.  He begins to shake his head fervently, and tells you repeatedly that he hadn't meant to. That he would never harm you. You know that.  He loves you, he loves you, he loves you.  Your father, Harwin, enters your room then and when he sees Jace lying injured on the floor, and that your face is a bloody mess, his vision goes red.

No one presses charges, because everyone involved knows that they're in a catch-22. If you or Jace press them against Aemond, then he'll press them against your father.

So the incident is dropped.

Until your phone begins blowing up with calls and texts and FaceTime requests from your uncle. Hundreds upon hundreds of them.

They all go unanswered, but nevertheless become more & more unhinged. Some bordering on being violent in nature.

You catch him sitting in his car across the street, right outside of your bedroom window one night.

You go & file a restraining order against him the next morning out of fear.

And because you'd been smart enough to take photos of when the fight happened—thus giving proof of his transgressions—it's granted.

And Aemond promptly loses his mind when it's served to him.

Until he comes up with a plan.

And he begins to calm.

Because he knows a way around this.

No piece of paper will ever keep him from you.

Not the police, not the law. Nothing.

He'd made a mistake, had allowed his anger to get the better of him.

So then you go & do this? Punish him for it? For what? Loving you too much? This isn't you. Someone has gotten into your head & turned you against him, he's sure of it.

Perhaps your mother. Perhaps your brothers.

It matters little, because he will get you back. One way or another.

And then everything will be perfect.

Will be exactly as he wants & needs it to be.

And you will both be happy & together again.

While you go off to your foolish little college, he throws himself into his work.

Literal & otherwise.

During the day, he works diligently to earn as much overtime as possible at his late father's company.

He rises through the ranks.

For he will need many savings for what he intends to do.

He buys a plot of land far from town.

He begins taking paid time off from work when able to work on building himself his new home.

The location is perfect: quiet, reclusive, far from civilization. It's an hour's drive just to find blacktop again.

He's an intelligent young man. And while it comes with its fair share of difficulties, he makes great progress in designing your new dream home together.

He knows with it being so solitary a place, that an in-law suite may not be entirely necessary, but...he's lost you once already. He can't do it again.

It will be your home until you prove yourself to him that you can be trusted above ground.

He gives you a large master bedroom, which in some ways is a recreation of your room at your parent's house. Most of the furniture from it is not difficult to find.

He knows most of it came from Ikea, Amazon, Target, a couple things from Walmart.

He wants things to be familiar for you to help you adjust.

He gives you a full kitchen, a beautiful bathroom with a large tub, a laundry room, and a comfortable living room.

Some things he knows he cannot provide you right away, such as kitchen knives.

But, in time, as you give him good behavior, you can earn it.

It's over a year later before the house is ready to be lived in.

He nearly bankrupted himself more than once in working on it, and his hands are now full of calluses, but he deems it all more than worth it for you.

You are worth everything to him.

He will be able to show that to you now.

Will be able to give you his love in full—nothing held back as he devotes himself entirely to you in this new place you'll be meant to call home.

You will be so happy. So excited. He just knows it, his lovely, darling niece.

It's late when you leave work.

Maybe that was your first mistake.

Or maybe it was when you stopped looking over your shoulder for him.

Because your family had decided to forgive him when he came by one day, begging for a second chance, convincing the lot of you that he had changed. And once he had their forgiveness, as well as yours most of all, he returned to his life. And all seemed right in the world again.

You'd had no idea the real cause of his faux display of sincerity.

You would learn as much in due time, however.

A solid form comes up from behind you.

They clamp their hand tightly over your mouth.

You don't get a chance to scream before you feel something sharp being jabbed into your neck.

Everything goes black.

Aemond shifts, turning further onto his side as he watches your brows furrow while you begin to come-to. Your hand slides slowly across soft blankets and clean sheets, and you feel warm fingertips ghosting across your flushed cheek. Your eyes flutter open lazily and you blink at unfamiliar surroundings. And then they widen in fear when you take in the man lying next to you. Your breathing turns ragged and heavy and your chest begins to rapidly rise and fall as you attempt to turn away from him. He quickly cups your cheek in his palm. "Welcome home, my beloved niece." He presses a firm kiss to your forehead then and you whimper as he traces the apple of your cheek with the pad of his thumb. You sit up and nearly fall off the bed at the feel of your head spinning. "W-What? Wh-Where am—" He sits up with you and wraps an arm around your waist while tugging you closer toward him. "You're in your new home. One which I built with my own hands for you. For the both of us." He crushes his lips to yours, ignoring the way you shove against his chest and struggle to relieve yourself of him. "It took me a long time," he states. "It was not easy to do, and primarily on my own, at that. But nevertheless, here it stands. Two stories." He glances around, then back to you. "Every nail, every piece of plywood was placed with you in mind, my love." He softly drags his knuckles down your cheek. "Would you like to see the rest of it? The basement, that is. It wounds me to tell you how I don't yet trust you enough to allow you above ground. But in time, once you've earned my forgiveness, I shall reconsider." Your eyes grow wide. "B-Basement?" He hums his response. "Technically, it's referred to as an in-law suite. Nevertheless, you have your master bedroom here, a full bath, a kitchen, a living room, and even a small laundry room with a closet for extra storage." Tears begin to well in your eyes and you choke back a sob. "P-Please, Aemond, let me—" "Uncle," he hisses, tangling his fingers painfully in your long strands. "You will refer to me as 'uncle' from now on. Do you understand?" Your chin wobbles as your eyes flit between his. "I'm so scared. Please let me go. I won't tell—" He clicks his tongue. "You think me so easy to fool now after what you did? After leaving me behind? After filing a restraining order against me? The one man in all the world who would never harm you. Who would do anything for you. And you claimed you needed to be protected from me?" He rises from the bed then, and you watch silently as his shoulders steadily rise and fall as he takes even, measured breaths. His nostrils are flared and his hands are balled into tight, trembling fists at his sides. "You betrayed me," he whispers. "We were meant to be together always. I thought you understood that. I had thought our hearts beat as one. And then I came to discover that you were intending to take yourself away from me." You shake your head lightly and crawl closer toward him, desperate to talk him out of this, or to otherwise let you go. He's gone mad. It's finally happened: he's snapped and lost all sense of reality. "To college, Aemond. I—" "Uncle," he interrupts through gritted teeth. You swallow nervously, then nod tersely. "Those applications that day... They were all just places I'd been considering. I'd planned to narrow my choices down to two or three schools, then... Then discuss it with you. We would choose together. I would...have your approval that way. But you got so angry and...and you hurt Jace—" "You mean to place the blame upon me, then?" He spits. Your heart hammers painfully between your breasts. "N-No, of course not. You just...you didn't even give me a chance to explain myself. Instead, you just—" "Then I suppose we are even." Your brows furrow. "What?"

"You did not allow me that, either, before you took out that protection order against me. You know I didn't mean to hit you. That it was...an accident. Did not so much as allow me to apologize before you did what you did. You left me behind, forgot about me as you moved on with your life." He leans in toward you while sliding a hand up your thigh. "You should've known that I would never do the same. My devotion to you is unbreakable." “Unc—” Aemond crushes his lips to yours then, and your battling against him is done in futility as he crawls atop you and pins your arms to the mattress above your head. “You’ve forgotten my adoration for you. So I will remind you of my love. Tonight, my beloved niece.”

You cry & choke on your tears as Aemond fucks himself inside of you.

You stare up at the ceiling & try to focus on anything else except the feel of his long, thick cock between your tight walls.

Try not to listen to the sick, possessive things he whispers in your ear between lustful thrusts between your thighs.

"Mine, mine, mine. All mine. My niece. Mine forever. I love you, I love you, I love you."

"You'll stay here. We'll never be apart again. You'll never leave me again."

"I'm the best thing for you. You'll see. You'll be happy here. We both will."

When he cums, it's in long spurts inside of you.

He groans your name against your breast.

He laps at your nipples and squeezes your hips and kisses your lips again and again, drinking down your tears.

He tells himself they are tears of joy. You just don't know it yet.

You don't want to sleep.

Are terrified to close your eyes.

But you're exhausted.

So you fall asleep in his arms.

And when you wake, he's gone.

You spend the next day exploring the space he's confined you to.

You deem him not as intelligent as he must think himself.

He's forgone supplying you with kitchen knives, but in truth, anything can be used as a weapon if you wish for it to be one.

Like the toilet tank lid.

It's heavy. Perfect for striking someone over the head with.

You try the keypad by the door over and over again.

You first try your birth date, to no avail.

Then Aemond's.

Then his mother's.

His father's.

You try combination after combination, and all it does is blink angry red at you in return.

You cry out of frustration.

There's a small window in the living room, directly above the couch. And you can see daylight shining through the frosted glass.

You throw things at it and bang against it with your fists, but it doesn't break.

You scream for help, but no one comes.

You begin to wonder where you are, exactly.

There's no way to know from down here.

You worry about your mom and dad and brothers.

They'll be worried about you.

They'll assume the worst: that you're lying dead in a ditch or a field somewhere. In a lake in the trunk of a car, perhaps. Bound and trussed up like hunted prey.

You won't let him win yet. You can't.

Aemond is sick. Something has gone terribly, terribly wrong.

Maybe it did a long time ago.

You have to save yourself.

As soon as he's stepped through the door, you smash him over the head with the lid and make a run for it. You bound up cement steps and wrench open the door at the top of them and run. You run and run and find only trees and broken branches around you. There are no houses. No people. No buildings. No sidewalks. No cars. There. Is. Nothing. You turn around in circles, this way and that, gasping for breath, desperate to discover which way you need to turn which will lead you back to civilization. You jolt when you hear twigs snapping, but as your eyes flit around and strain against the dying light of the day, you don't see him. Perhaps it's just an animal, then. Perhaps—

When you wake, there is a throbbing pain at the back of your head...and you're right back where you started. You squeak in fear when you hear his low voice from a corner of the dark room you lie in. "I do not blame you. I'm trying not to, at least. I understand it, yes, but not you. You never behaved like this before. You were always so sweet, docile, non-combative. This isn't my darling niece." A tall, lithe shadow moves through the dark and you begin to hyperventilate as warm hands move up your legs before gripping your knees and forcing your legs apart. "You will learn to obey me once again. One way or another." You begin to sob in terror as he shoves himself inside of you.

Your days begin to blur into one, long, endless stretch of night.

You lose track of time.

There are clocks on the stove and microwave, as well as one on the flat screen in the living room, and one in your bedroom, but still you feel unable to truly tell it—time, that is.

You begin to make up a routine, because you don't know what else to do.

Running away...seems also futile now.

You could be dozens of miles away from people.

Even if you kept running, what if you got lost?

What if it got dark before you so much as heard the engine of a car?

What if you died out there, all alone & afraid?

So, everyday, when you wake, you make your bed, then tend to yourself in the bathroom.

You make breakfast and eat, then load the dishwasher.

You watch TV, or read, or play games on the computer provided to you that has no internet connection.

Sometimes, you play single-player board or card games, or you color.

Sometimes, you move decorations around in your room.

Sometimes, you sleep.

Sometimes, you cry.

Sometimes, you consider killing him.

When Aemond awakes, it's to you atop him, straddling his waist, the handle-arm from the toilet tank gripped tightly in your hand as you hold it against his jugular. He's made sure not to fall asleep down here next to yet, because he had known this would eventually happen if he did. Not this exact scenario, perhaps, but something similar. He'd been careless tonight. "I should fucking kill you," you whisper, jabbing it against his hot skin. "Give me one reason I shouldn't, you pathetic fucking—" He slides his hands up your thighs, gently, lovingly. "What would that accomplish, my love? Hm? You don't know the combination to the door." You grow silent, so he continues. "You think you know me so well, don't you? There's clearly facets of my personality you never got a chance to become acquainted with. Hence this place. I would rather you die here than ever leave me again. I made you a promise that we would remain together. It's been broken once already. I won't let that happen again. No matter the cost." You swallow thickly. "Go on, then. Shove it into my neck. Let me bleed out. Before long, my body will begin to bloat and rot. The smell will become unbearable. Even if you managed to sequester me away in this room, perhaps with towels shoved under the door, how long before your food runs out? Before you starve to death?" His lip twitches and he fills with an immense amount of satisfaction when he speaks again. "You can't live without me now. I'm all you have left. Your shelter. Your provider. Everything. Without me, you will cease to exist." At last, you see the truth. He knows it, because you lower your hand. You see...that you belong to him. And that there is nothing in all the world you can do to change it.

Once Aemond has fixed the toilet yet again, he returns to the bedroom to find you curled into yourself, crying so hard you struggle to breathe.

He takes you into his arms and you initially pound your ineffectual fists against his chest, until you begin to calm as you enter a state of exhaustion.

And then it happens.

You curl your body around his for warmth and comfort.

You press your palms gently to his chest and close your eyes.

You hate yourself for it.

For being so weak and disgusting and pathetic.

But you're so lonely here.

So cold and tired and afraid.

Isn't it some sort of self-preservation, then—sick or not—to give into him, even slightly? So as to preserve your sanity?

Or does giving into him mean it's finally beginning to slip away?

You struggle to care as you enjoy the feel of his strong arms around you and his lips against the crown of your head.

You willingly take the affection he offers you greedily.

He tells you he loves you.

You smile softly at the words.

He tells you that you're safe.

You think maybe he's right in that, perhaps.

After all, down here, you don't have to worry about being attacked by strange men in parking lots when leaving work anymore.

Don't have to worry about them drugging and raping you.

Don't have to worry about holding down a meaningless, empty job.

Don't have to worry about struggling to get by in such a cruel and callous world.

Don't have to worry about anything at all.

All thanks...to Uncle Aemond.

Hope stirs within you once more, however, when you see it on TV: your very own missing person's report. You cry as you watch your family do so as well in front of a camera. As they beg and plead for you to be returned home to them, safe and sound. They offer to pay any price your kidnapper wants. If it's ransom money they desire, it's theirs. All they want back is their little girl, their sister, their granddaughter—for even Alicent is there and in tears, asking for anyone who even thinks they may know something, no matter how tiny or inconsequential, to please, please call the police at once. And then he enters the camera lens. He's dressed sharply in a suit and tie, his smooth, silver hair perfectly parted over his shoulders as he knits his hands together behind him. "Please," he says, his voice faltering for a moment. "If it is money you want, consider it yours. All I want is for my niece to be returned to her family. I'll pay any price you ask. None is too large to have her returned home. You cannot imagine the grief her disappearance has wrought upon all of us. She is an innocent. If you want someone to go after—I know not if this has anything to do with my family's company, but if so: come after me. Do with me as you will. Just let her go, I am begging you."

You wrath returns to you tenfold that evening.

You scream and curse at him and throw things.

So in turn...he hits you.

And it leaves you stunned into silence.

He wraps a hand around your throat and sneers, telling you that you will be obedient. A well-behaved young lady, just as he knows you to be.

He glances to the couch then, which also doubles as a pull-out bed, having a sudden idea.

He will pound into your head one way or another that this place is now your fate and you would do well to finally relinquish yourself to it in whole.

You whimper quietly beneath your uncle as he rocks his hips against your backside, easing in an out of your warm, wet cunt while he stares at the TV before the both of you with a satisfied smirk. Tears slip from your tired eyes as he forces you to watch the glossy flat screen as well. A middle-aged news reporter, with a thinning hairline, stands in front of your college in the sprinkling rain, speaking about your sudden disappearance. The screen then cuts to a photo your mother took of you this last Christmas Eve while you'd been wrapping presents with her. There's a broad smile on your ignorant face—as you'd been completely unaware that as you packaged a gift for Aemond...he'd been preparing this place for you; to hold you against your will. You'd decided to forgive him. Because he'd convinced all of you that he had changed. Had grown into a fine young man through hard work and discipline. And you all had bought it like the empty-headed fools you were. Your father had been reluctant in doing so, but after a long talk between the two of them on your back patio, he'd shook his hand...and welcomed him back into his home. He'd fed you all honeyed words from a serpent's venomous tongue. The man's face returns to the screen, and he urges anyone, who has any information, to please call the police's tip line. Aemond lowers his lips next to your ear. "They'll never find you here. You're all mine now, my love. All mine. I won't stop until that fact is cemented in your fucking head." He begins to rut away violently between your legs then, and you sob into the mattress as the hope of one day leaving this place...slips impossibly further away.

You accept your fate.

Day-by-day.

Not all at once, but you do.

You even begin to look forward to him coming home every day.

You keep your part of the house neat and tidy and you make him dinner every evening. For he does work so very hard to take care of you, after all. All so you don't have to worry your pretty little head anymore.

You greet him with a smile and a kiss.

You press yourself to Aemond's chest and breathe in the comforting scent of his expensive cologne. "I missed you," you whisper, winding your arms around his waist. He cups the back of your head and kisses you passionately. "And I you," he whispers against your soft, full lips. You grin from ear-to-ear at the handsome sight of him. "I love you," you say quietly. He smiles broadly. Finally. You've finally said it. Have finally admitted it to yourself. And now to him. "I love you, my darling. More than anything in all the world," he coos.

That night, you initiate love-making between you and your uncle.

He finds you to be pleasantly wet for him.

And as he rocks his hips against your own, you mewl against his lips and wind your limbs around him, as if you are unable to get yourself close enough to him.

And when you finish in his arms, it's with love in your heart, tears in your eyes, and affectionate words from your comely lips.

"Who do you belong to?" Aemond whispers to you in the dark as he slips his fingers through your hair. You snuggle closer to his naked body with a smile. "You, Uncle Aemond. It's always been you." He begins leaving the door unlocked then. And you remain in your cage, content as can be, as his perfect little prey.

[miscelunaaa]

spin cycle 24 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x female reader

genre: drabble series, slow burn, idiots to lovers, fluff, lil bit of angst, eventual smut

summary: This random guy has started doing laundry at your favorite laundromat each week (at the same time as you, no less!) and to be honest, it’s going to be a problem. You’re just not sure how yet.

rating: 18+ for eventual smut

word count: less than 500

warnings: MORE SMUT :D in the form of: Sex with the use of a condom. Important questions about abdominal skin care. Girl on top. Jungkook being like a little whiny, like just a little for ~effect~. Um, banter?? Dirty talk. MMMmmmissionary. Mentions of oversensitivity but nothing too hard (except Jungkook’s body lhalsdkjhflskaj). 

notes: Hello!! Ah, this is exciting! Only one installment left. We’ve been at this for over half a year now, which, if I’m being honest, is just mind blowing. I’ve always struggled with keeping up routines, especially with writing. Your interest in my work has really kept me going! The final installment of this story will be going up this Wednesday because I do very poorly with suspense ☠️ See you soon!!

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“Did you—” Your movement slows just a little as you look down in confusion. “Did you oil your abs?”

“Um, nO??” he laughs, perhaps too easily. “Why would I do something like that?”

“You don’t have to impress me. I’ve already seen them,” you sigh as you resume riding his cock. His hands are gripping your hips, the tips of his fingers pressing into your flesh as he urges you to go faster with a whine.

“Fine, I used a body lotion with a little bit of shine! It makes them look better.” Every few seconds he tries to thrust up into you, even as your hands splay over the firm muscles of his stomach to hold him down. His voice is high and airy as he continues. “And yeah, I wanted to impress you, is that so bad?”

“It’s not. You just don’t have to impress me more, I—holy shit—” He’s strong enough that he can hold you still, giving him free rein to take over and start slapping his hips up into yours. His cock drags inside your heat and each time the feeling takes your breath away. “Just please keep doing that.”

“Yeah?” The way his hips snap up, the way his lips curl into a devious smile, it’s all so annoyingly hot. “Would you say this—” He manages to hit a spot you didn’t even know existed. “—is impressive too?”

“Fine! Yes! It’s impressive,” you gasp. “Keep impressing me so I can impress all over your fucking cock you assho—”

Before you can finish your, Jungkook pushes you off his lap and onto your back. He slides between your legs, his length thrusting into you easily. He whines into your neck and nips at your pulse point.

“Touch yourself babe, wanna see you come.”

You slip your hand down, finding your throbbing clit with ease. You start running your fingertips over it in small circles. You moan as you clench around him, “I-I’m so close.”

He grits his teeth and throws his head back. “Fuck, that’s it. Can’t wait for this pussy to milk me dry.”

He’s so shy, but he can’t fucking shut up in bed, and shit, you might be in love with him for it. The energy is intoxicating, addictive, revelatory.

Your body’s beginning to wind tight, and the small sigh he breathes tells you he feels it. Just a second more and—

“That’s it, babe, look so good for coming for me,” he grunts, before picking up the pace for a few seconds, carrying you through the high.

You’re verging on oversensitivity when suddenly, he’s swearing as he holds you a little tighter. His body pulls tenses as he spills into the condom he’d nicked from Namjoon’s bedstand drawer.

With a shuddering exhale, Jungkook gently pulls out before standing to clean up. He catches you staring at him as he comes back to his bed, and he can’t help teasing you.

“Pretty impressive, right?”

Thank you for reading! Drop me an ask and tell me what you think. Find me in various places at my carrd :)

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posted: 6.13.2022

[lumosandnoxwriting]

Special to Me - Fred Weasley

Title: Special to me Pairing: Fred x Fem!Reader Summary: Fred and Y/N confess just how much the other really means to them Warnings: NSFW!!! Slight sub!Fred, dry humping, teasing/name calling, oral (female receiving), fingering, unprotected sex A/N: this is a continuation of this drabble I posted the other day for my birthday event, but I’ll be using it as the opening part of this fic so no need to go and read (or reread ;)) it! feedback is always welcome, and requests are open!

Tagging those who requested this!: @levylovegood​ @jenniweaslee​ @hella-rad-kiss-my-sass​

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“Can’t sleep either?” asks a sleepy voice from somewhere behind Y/N.

Y/N turns around, smiling as Fred comes down the last few steps into the common room. The only light comes from the raging fire, and as Fred steps into the light Y/N eyes widen and she has to look away. Fred is completely shirtless, and his plaid pajama pants are sitting low on his hips, exposing the V lines that lead into his crotch.

“No,” she answers, keeping her eyes trained on the fire. Fred occupies enough of her thoughts as is, she doesn’t need to have his half naked body plaguing her thoughts for the next few weeks as well. She holds her breath as he settles into the armchair opposite her, his pale skin practically glowing from the reflection of the flames.

Fred sighs and runs a hand through his hair. “You been down here long?”

Y/N shakes her head, trying not to let her eyes linger on Fred for too long. Just his shirtless body Is enough for her to start feeling aroused, and Y/N tries to subtly rub her thighs together. “Just a few minutes. Alicia keeps sleep talking it’s impossible to fall asleep.”

“Yeah, George’s cold is making him snore, sounds like a bloody chainsaw,” Fred chuckles. “Don’t know how Lee can sleep through it.”

Y/N hums in acknowledgement, her mind too focused on tracing the lines of Fred’s abs and committing them to memory to say anything. She feels a bit bad about her obvious ogling, but as Fred leans back in his seat, stretching his torso out for her, she can’t seem to care. Fred is obviously enjoying the fact that she’s watching him, so she might as well look while she has the chance.

Unbeknownst to Y/N, Fred hasn’t even noticed that she’s starting at his torso, because he’s too busy watching her. Truthfully, Fred could sleep threw the loudest firework show in existence, it’s one of the perks of growing up in a house full of people. In reality he’d woken up from a delicious dream, which Y/N had been the star of, and he needed to calm himself back down before he would be able to get back to sleep.

The top she’s wearing is oversized, and it’s slipped from one of her shoulders. Her delicate collarbone is on display and Fred is imagining his lips nipping, biting and sucking at the soft flesh. Y/N’s chest is heaving with deep breaths, and despite the fact that the room is quite warm, he can see the faintest outline of one of her nipples. It’s not until his eyes wander up to her face from her chest that Fred notices Y/N’s eyes are glazed over, and she’s staring at his exposed chest.

“Like what you see?” Fred says suddenly, chuckling when Y/N jumps slightly.

Y/N immediately looks away from Fred, her face flushing a deep red. “Sorry, sorry,” she stutters. “I don’t know what came over me.” Y/N feels her eyes wandering back over to Fred and she shuts her eyes to keep from looking at him. “I’m sorry but I can’t keep talking to you if you don’t put some clothes on.” Y/N swallows thickly and let’s herself look Fred up and down once again.

Fred pats his lap, his tongue coming out to lick at his lips. “So, let’s not talk then.” Fred watches as Y/N bites her lip, his already hard cock twitching in his pajamas. “Sit with me,” he says, a hint of force in his tone.

Y/N shivers and throws any shame she had earlier away. Without a moment of thought she straddles Fred’s waist and presses their lips together hotly. Her hands grip his bare shoulders and her hips start to grind down against him. She moans as Fred’s hips thrust to meet her downward movement, his hard cock just barely brushing her clit.

“God, Y/N, you are gorgeous,” Fred says, his hot breath fanning over the skin on Y/N’s shoulder. He presses kisses to the skin there, unable to stop himself from sucking a mark. “I’ve wanted this for so long,” he admits, his lips trailing kisses back up towards Y/N’s mouth.

Y/N stops her movements on Fred’s lap, and she leans back so she can look at him properly. “Really?”

“Why is that so surprising?” Fred asks with a chuckle. “You’re beautiful. And smart. And caring. And funny,” Fred says, accentuating each compliment with a soft kiss to her lips.

Y/N flushes at Fred’s words. “Yeah but you’re Fred Weasley.” When Fred gives her a look she rolls her eyes. “You’re the guy that every girl wants, Fred. You’re charismatic, and funny, and smart and let’s just admit, you’re fucking hot Fred. You could have any girl you want with nothing more than a look.”

Fred pulls Y/N’s mouth down onto his and kisses her slowly. “You’re the girl I want, Y/N. Most girls just see my looks or my body, they don’t see the real me. Except for you. You always laugh at my jokes, even the ones that aren’t really that funny. And you always notice when I’m upset, and you actually give a shit when you ask what’s wrong. You’re not there for me because I’m Fred Weasley,” he mocks with a chuckle. “You’re there for me because I’m Fred. Just Fred.”

“You’re not just Fred,” Y/N says softly. “You’re everything to me, Fred.”

“Hopefully being your everything includes being your boyfriend,” he jokes.

Y/N rolls her eyes, but there’s a tender smile on her face. “Just shut up and kiss me, boyfriend,” Y/N drawls, letting Fred pull her into another kiss.

Fred’s hands trail up Y/N’s shirt as they kiss, coming around to fondle and massage her breasts. His thumbs rub at her nipples as his hands work at her breasts, causing Y/N to let out a low moan against Fred’s mouth. “Feel good?” he asks, his mouth starting to kiss down her neck.

“God, Fred yes,” Y/N moans, her hips starting to grind down against him.

Fred’s hips start to thrust up, meeting Y/N’s downwards movements, causing both of them to let out breathy moans. Fred nips at the exposed skin of Y/N’s shoulder, sucking a mark into it. His hands leave her breasts so they can grip her hips and he starts to guide her movements. Y/N grips onto Fred’s shoulder with one hand, her other running up and down his torso, flicking at one of his nipples every time she passes it.

“Fuck that feels good,” Fred groans into the crook of Y/N’s neck. His cock twitches in his pajamas as Y/N starts to pinch at his nipple. Fred starts to rut up into Y/N harder, his hands pulling her down against him tightly. “Oh,” he gasps as Y/N’s other hand tangles in his hair and tugs at it.

Y/N bites her lip as she watches Fred come undone under her. His hips are working feverishly, and he’s too busy moaning to continue marking up her skin. “You’re gonna come in your pants, aren’t you?” Y/N teases, unable to stop from smirking at the noise Fred makes. “God look at you. You get a girl in your lap and you turn into a desperate little boy.”

Fred nods, too busy moaning to respond to Y/N. “Fucking hell,” he moans as Y/N lightly twists one of his nipples and pulls his hair at the same time. “Don’t stop, please.” The fabric of his boxers catches on the tip of his cock with every thrust, pulling moans from his mouth with each movement

Y/N stops moving her hips, allowing for Fred to rut up against her at his own pace. His hardened cock just barely brushes her clit with each stroke, and while it’s not enough to get her off, that coupled with Fred’s reactions is enough to keep her interested. “Have you ever even touched a girl, Freddie? So desperate for it already, humping me like a little boy with his first hard on.”

Fred groans, his grip on Y/N’s hips tightening as he moves her body against his. He can feel precum oozing out of his tip, slicking up his shaft and allowing him to rut against Y/N smoother. When Y/N twists his nipple again his eyes fly shut, and stars erupt behind his lids. He’s never felt this turned on, and he can feel himself on the verge of coming at an embarrassing speed.

“Gonna come,” Fred pants.  He buries his face in Y/N’s neck and his hot breath causes goosebumps to pop up all over her skin.

Y/N tugs on Fred’s hair again, her other hand relentlessly rubbing his nipple. “Go on, Freddie. Make a mess in your boxers. Be a dirty little boy and come for me.”

Fred brings Y/N down flush against his crotch, and a long whine leaves his mouth as he comes. He spurts all over the inside of his boxers, the warm liquid making the fabric stick to his sweaty skin. Fred takes gasping breaths as his cock twitches with the last few spurts of his release, and Y/N starts run her hand through his hair while her other comes up to stroke his cheek.

“Fucking hell,” Fred says once his breathing has returned to normal. He pulls his face out of Y/N’s neck and looks up at her. “You’re amazing.”

Y/N blushes, and kisses Fred fiercely. “You like being my little boy?” she teases.

Fred’s face flushes an even deeper red. “You found it hot too, don’t even lie.”

“I’m fucking dripping,” Y/N leans forward to whisper in Fred’s ear. He grabs the back on Y/N’s neck and slams their lips together, immediately shoving his tongue into her mouth.

Fred grips Y/N’s thighs and stands up, before turning around and depositing her in the chair he was just sitting in. “Let me take care of that,” he drawls with a wink. Fred spreads Y/N’s legs apart and sinks to his knees, settling between them. He runs his hands up her legs slowly, causing a shiver to run down Y/N’s spine. “Can I?” he asks when his hands reach the waistband of her sleep shorts.

Y/N nods. “Please Fred.” Fred grabs her shorts in both hands and pulls them all the way down and off, taking her panties with it. “Oh fuck,” Y/N gasps as the cold air of the common room suddenly hits her core.

Fred bites his lip as his eyes rake over Y/N’s dripping pussy. “Such a pretty little pussy,” he compliments. Fred rests each of Y/N’s legs on his shoulders as his right hand comes up to tease her wet fold. “Fuck you weren’t lying. You’re already soaked, princess.”

“Fuck, Freddie,” Y/N moans, tilting her head back against the chair. Fred has sunk two fingers into her, and as his fingers curl the tip of his middle finger brushes against her g-spot. “Can I have your mouth too, Freddie? Please,” she begs.

“How can I say no to that? Not when my princess asked so nicely.” Fred presses a few kisses to the inside of Y/N’s thigh before he leans forward and licks from where his fingers are slowly fucking into her up to her clit.

Y/N moans as Fred’s tongue starts to flick at her clit. Her thighs are shaking and when Y/N tries to shut them Fred’s free hand flies to her thigh and holds it down. His fingers dig into her flesh in a way that Y/N knows is sure to leave bruises. “More Fred, please,” she begs, already feeling her orgasm start to build.

At her words Fred sucks her clit into his mouth, lightly nibbling on the sensitive bud and a third finger joins his other two. He lets his tongue toy with her clit as he sucks, a deep moan coming from his throat as Y/N clenches around his fingers. “You’re so fucking tight, Y/N,” he groans. His thumb starts to rub harsh circles on her clit and his mouth works on sucking bruises into her inner thighs. “Can’t imagine what you’re gonna feel like around my cock.”

“F-Fred,” Y/N stammers, one of her hands coming up to massage her breast over her shirt. “Gonna come, Fred,” she groans. Fred puts his mouth back on her core and hums as he sucks on her clit, pushing Y/N over the edge. “Fred,” she moans, her walls tightening around his fingers as pleasure courses through her body.

“Good girl,” Fred coos, as Y/N comes down from her high. He gently removes his fingers from her core and licks them clean, before he comes up to press a kiss to Y/N’s lips. “You’re bloody brilliant,” he compliments, before pulling Y/N into a deep kiss.

Y/N whines as Fred pulls away from their kiss, her hands reaching up to pull him back down. “Kiss me more, boyfriend,” she requests with a laugh.

Fred leans down and kisses Y/N again briefly, chuckling as he pulls away. “You’re already quite demanding, girlfriend. Maybe I need to rethink this whole scenario,” he teases. When Y/N pouts he leans in again to kiss it away.

“Fine don’t be my boyfriend,” Y/N responds, biting her lip. “I was gonna ride my boyfriend’s cock but since I don’t have one I’m just going to go to bed.” Y/N winks at Fred before pushing him away from her. She grabs her pajamas and panties from the floor and starts to head towards the staircase when a pair of arms wrap around her waist and lift her up. “Fred!” she squeals, laughing as he carries her over towards the couch.

“Your boyfriend doesn’t appreciate you saying things like that and then walking away, Y/N,” he teases. He sits down on the couch and arranges Y/N on his lap so she’s facing him. He reaches up and lifts Y/N’s shirt off of her body and tosses it onto the couch next to them. Fred’s hands immediately land on her breasts and he starts to massage them

“Oh, so you are my boyfriend?” Y/N asks, her tone light and playful. “Thought I was too demanding for you, Freddie?”

Fred’s hands leave Y/N’s breasts to he can pull his bottoms down to his thighs and his cock springs out. He grasps the base of his cock with one hand while the other grips Y/N’s hip. He looks up to her for confirmation, and when Y/N nods he guides her down onto his cock. They both moan loudly, and Fred presses his face into Y/N’s neck to muffle his noises. “Fuck Fred,” Y/N moans as he bottoms out inside her. “Stretching me out so good,” she groans, rolling her hips slightly.

Fred pulls their lips together and kisses Y/N hard, slowly starting to fuck his hips up into her. “I’ve been trying to get you to notice me in that way all year, Y/N. You’re not getting rid of me that easily.”

Y/N kisses Fred softly and braces one hand on his shoulder, the other on his stomach as she slowly starts to lift up and fuck herself on his cock. “Really? All year?” she pants.

Fred nods, his hands landing on Y/N’s hips to help her lift off of his cock. His hips start to meet each of her thrusts with a sharp jab and his lips nipping and sucking at her neck. “I don’t set dung bombs off in Snape’s office and get a month of detention for just anyone, dear.”

Y/N moans and tilts her head back, giving Fred more room to kiss. “You did that for me?” she asks breathily. Two months ago, Snape really went off on Y/N during class, and that very evening Fred had set off 5 dung bombs in his office, the dungeons reeked for days and Fred was in quite a bit of trouble.

Fred hums against her neck, causing a shiver to roll down her spine. “Broke Flint’s arm with that bludger for you too after he called you a bitch.” He presses a few more kisses to her shoulder blade as one of his hands travels from her hip to her core. “And I charmed that feather to tickle Flitwick to make you laugh when you were having a bad day.” Fred sucks a mark into Y/N’s collarbone, grunting as she clenches around him. “And I set off all those fireworks over the Black Lake after you told me how pretty you find them.”

“Fred,” Y/N says softly. She grabs his chin and makes him look up at her. “I can’t believe you did all that for me.” Y/N whines as Fred’s thumb starts to rub circles on her clit. She leans back slightly, and the new angle allows for Fred to slip even deeper inside of her. “Oh,” Y/N gasps as the tip of Fred’s cock finally brushes her g-spot.

“Don’t say it like that,” he scolds, pressing a kiss to her shoulder. “Like you’re no one special. You’re amazing, Y/N you have to know that.” Fred brings her face down to his and kisses her lightly.

“I’m not special,” she insists, her movements speeding up. “Not special enough for all of that at least.” Fred starts to fuck up into her relentlessly, his thumb rubbing harder circles on her clit.

“Fuck, baby, how can you say that?” he moans, his grip on her hip tightening. “You’re so special to me, Y/N can’t you see that?”

Y/N nods wildly, the breathy moans and pants leaving her lips make her unable to speak. “Gonna come, Freddie,” she warns. With one more thrust of Fred’s hips Y/N comes, her walls twitching around him and his name falling from her lips. Y/N’s thighs shake as she continues to move on Fred’s cock, wanting to bring him to his orgasm as well.

“Fuck baby, you feel so good around me,” he grunts. “Gonna come, Y/N. Fuck.” Fred brings Y/N down on him, so their hips are flush as he reaches his own orgasm, his cock painting her walls with his release. Once his cock has stopped twitching inside her, Fred gently pulls Y/N off of him, and she collapses against his chest.

“I love you, Freddie,” she mumbles into his skin.”

Fred strokes Y/N’s hair and presses a kiss to the top of her head. “I love you too, Y/N.”

They sit in silence for a few moments, just enjoying being wrapped up together.

“I think I’m tired enough that not even Alicia’s sleep talking will keep me awake,” Y/N jokes, pulling away from Fred.

Fred chuckles, and kisses Y/N briefly. “We probably should head up to bed, lest someone wanders in and finds us sitting here naked covered in fluids.”

Y/N grimaces at Fred’s use of the word fluids, suddenly too aware of how slick the inside of her thighs are from both her and Fred’s orgasms. “As much as I would like to sit here with you, boyfriend,” she drawls. “I think you’re right.” Y/N stands up on shaky legs, grabbing her various pieces of clothing. “See you at breakfast?”

“See you there girlfriend,” Fred responds, pulling her in for one final kiss.

-

When Y/N makes it to the Great Hall the next morning for breakfast, Fred is already there sitting across from George, waiting for her. “Good morning, Freddie,” she greets, pressing a kiss to his cheek.

Fred flushes, wrapping his arm around Y/N’s waist as she sits next to him. “Morning, love.”

George eyes them both wearily, taking a sip of orange juice. “Since when is this a thing?” he asks, gesturing towards them.

“Since last night. Alicia was keeping me up with her sleep talking and you were keeping Fred up with your snoring, so we sat in the common room together and uh,” Y/N clears her throat, willing the blush on her cheeks to go away. “We talked. And now this is a thing.”

George raises his eyebrows. “Snoring?” He turns his attention to Fred. “I wasn’t snoring last night.”

Y/N turns to look at Fred, and he gives her a sheepish smile. “Okay so if George wasn’t keeping you up than why couldn’t you sleep last night?”

Fred leans down so his lips are brushing Y/N’s earlobe. “See I could tell you why I couldn’t sleep,” he muses, his hand coming to rest on her inner thigh. “Or I could show you instead.”  

[justthehiddleswrites]

Drink Me | Steve Rogers x Reader

Pairing:  Steve Rogers x Reader

Summary:  You are running late for Valentines with Steve at your place. You have just started dating and hoping to the relationship to the next level but will a critical mistake by Steve ruin the whole evening.

Warnings: Smut, Fluff, Humor, Sexual Humor, Teasing, Truth Serum, Sex Pollen, Couch Sex

-

For the last couple of nights, you worked late at the lab. Bruce and you were on the verge on a breakthrough of the latest alien technology that landed in the lap of the Avengers.

“I’m on the subway.” you spoke into your phone as the train sped towards your stop. “I’ll be there in a jiffy to cook dinner.”

“Honey.” Steve commented back. “There is no need to rush. We can celebrate whenever you get home.”

“No, it’s Valentine’s Day. Our first Valentine’s. I want to make it special.” you whined into the phone.

“As long you are here, it will be special.”

You smiled at Steve’s kind words. It had only a month since you became a couple. Things were getting hot and heavy but Steve seemed hesitant to take the next step. You hoped tonight would the night.

“Hey honey…” Steve started in.

“Yes?”

“Can you pick up some soda on your way home? I think I drank the last one yesterday.”

“Of course. I can’t wait to see you.”

“Can’t wait to see you too.”

You ended the call and drifted off into your thoughts, swaying to the rhythm of the car jostling along the tracks.

After a long line to check out at the corner bodega, you slipped your key into the lock and opened the door. Soft light flooded the room as you stepped in.

“I was starting to think someone had kidnapped you.” Steve’s arm slid around your waist and he kissed your neck.

“Would you rescue me?” you chuckled at his whiskers, tickling your skin.

“Maybe. But only for the soda.” his hand slid down to grab the bag from your hand as he wiggled his hips in some sort of dance.

“I knew it. Coca-cola will always come first in your heart.” You stuck your lip out in a mock pout.

Steve placed the bag on the counter as you starting pulling the ingredients out for dinner. You noticed a blue bottle on the counter and picked it up and sniffed it.

“Did you drink this?” you shook the bottle at him.

“Yeah. I told you, you’re out of soda. I was thirsty.” Steve started chuckled. “I’m thirsty for so many things.” He wiggled his eyebrows.

“No… no… No…” you frantically pulled things from the fridge, ignoring him. You retrieved a yellow post-it. It read “DON’T DRINK!!!” “Fuck!” you cursed.

“What?” Steve opened a bag of chips and formed them into duck lips.

“You just drank my experiment.” you answered.

Steve’s eyes widened, and he stopped flapping his arms like a bird. The chips fell from his lips. “What kind of experiment?”

“Think laughing gas meets truth serum. meets sex pollen.” you winced.

“Why would have something like that in your fridge?”

“For emergencies?! I didn’t expect anyone to drink it. I had a warning label on it.”

“What kind emergency would have that would require truth serum and sex polleng?!” Steve tugged at his collar and laughed. “Some kind of ninja gigalo situation? Here to steal your DVDs of Buffy the Vampire Slayer and your virginity?” He bent over laughing at his lame joke.

“Shit! It’s already taking effect.” You led him towards the couch. “Go lie down. I will work on dinner. Food might help.”

Steve slipped from your grip and ran back to the kitchen. You moved towards him. “It’s fine… the effects will wear off by the morning and—”

“I got your dinner right here!” Steve whipped around. His pants hung loosely around his hips and zipper undone. His dick was out and encased in a hot dog bun. He waggled it around and sauntered towards you. “What do you say, baby, ready to sample my sausage?”

You stood there somewhere between incredibly turned on and incredibly disgusted. The sight was too much and you burst into laughter.

“Another time, I wouldn’t want to take advantage of you in your weakened state. Now go lie down on the couch.”

You shoved him towards the living room. Steve gripped your wrist and pulled you into an embrace. “Only if you come with me.”

He pressed his lips against yours. His arms gripped tight against the back of your blouse. You pushed against his chest trying to pull again but not too hard. You sighed against his lips and he deepened the kiss.

Steve walked the two of you towards the couch and the two of you fell onto the soft and deep cushions. “Well dinner can wait a few minutes…” your lips curved into a smile.

Steve jumped up and yanked his pants down, kicking his boots off. You leaned up on your elbows to watch him pull off the tight t-shirt.

“Enjoying the view, babe?” Steve smirked as he positioned himself between your legs.

He tugged at your skirt, pushing it up around your hips. He glanced up at you with wide eyes. “No panties?” he asked.

“It’s Valentines. I was hoping I might get lucky. Albeit without the aid of something you drank out of my fridge.”

“Then why did you buy wine?” Steve raised an eyebrow.

“Wine doesn’t count.”

Steve ducked down between your legs and nipped at your thighs. You moaned and bucked. You closed your legs but Steve held them open.

“You are all mine.” he purred as he dragged a single finger along your slit. “Already so wet for me.”

Your head lolled back against the arm of the couch. “More.” you pleaded.

“More? I’m not sure you are ready for more.” Steve teased as he rubbed the same finger against your clit.

“Please, Steve. Please.”

Steve righted himself onto his knees and lined his cock up with you, plunging in. You both groaned in pleasure. Steve stilled as he became balls deep. You panted and then nodded. Steve pulled out, teasing your entrance with his top before snapping his hips as thrust.

“God, babe, you feel so good. I’m not going to last long.” Steve moaned as he continued to thrust. You pulled your skirt up around your waist and moved a hand down to find your clit. Steve swatted your hand away. “That’s my job.”

“Then do your job, Captain.” you growled with a smile.

Steve took your comment as a challenge and lifted your hips up off the couch with his hand. The other hand dragged across your pelvis to find your bundle of nerves with his thumb, twisting the coil tighter inside you.

“Cum for me, baby.” Steve said as his thrusts faltered. “I’m close, cum with me.”

Within a few thrusts, your orgasm hit you and you clenched around Steve’s cock. “Yes, baby!” he panted as he thrust into you a final time, spilling inside you.

He collapsed against you, sweaty and breathing heavy. He remained still, and you ran your nails up and down his back.

“Steve?” He lifted his head, blonde hair stuck to his forehead. “What are you thinking?”

His blue eyes pierced through all the sex and hormones in the air. “I love you.” he said as he ducked his head back against your chest.

“That’s just the serum talking.” you shook off the comment but internally screaming.

Steve lifted you up into a sitting position, cupping your face. “No, I love you. I have wanted to say it for weeks, but I worried you didn’t feel the same.”

You shifted. “And now…”

“I don’t care if you are ready to say it yet. I am not going anywhere, I will wait until you are ready. But I have the thought after this…” he smiled at your state of undress and disheveled hair. “… you feel the same.”

You giggled as you cupped the side of his face. “I do. I love you too.” Steve leaned down to kiss you softly.

“Now what was that about dinner?” his lips smiling. “Because I don’t know about you I have worked up an appetite.”

You stood up and straightened up your skirt. “I will cook if you do something for me…”

Steve’s gave you a questioning glance. “Which is?”

You walked away towards the bedroom to change clothes. “No more drinking strange liquids in my fridge?”

“What else are you planning on keeping in there?”

You raised an eyebrow as you slipped out of your skirt and glanced over your shoulder. “Who knows? Might be poison, might be an aphrodisiac. Take your chances.” you teased.

Steve smiled as he followed you to the bedroom.

[fromthedeskofelizabeththird]

In the Middle

One of your boyfriends tries to rile up the other.

You get caught in the middle in more ways than one.

Fandom: BNHA

Pairing: Erasermic x Reader

Rating: Explicit, minors BE GONE

Trigger Warnings: None really

AO3: Here |  Want to support me? I have a Kofi

There were pros and cons to having two boyfriends.

You fought a never ending battle pulling hair from the shower drain. You had double the texts to reply to; double the calls to return. No matter how comfortable you were when you fell asleep, you always woke up with a crick in your neck and someone’s elbow in your face.

Hizashi craved attention more than oxygen and sulked if he felt even slightly neglected. He spent just as much time chasing kisses as he did styling his hair. He sang in the shower, the bathtub, the rain and was only too eager to drag one or both of you in for a duet. You learned the hard way not to stand next to him in front of the bathroom mirror, for he would bump his hips against yours until you sang along to the radio with him and you’d ended up with eyeliner halfway across your face more than once.

He would spend the day pouting if no one gave him a good morning kiss and drew smiley faces in ketchup if left to plate up at dinner. He was a handful and a terrible influence; the polar opposite of your other boyfriend in every possible way.

Shouta was neither loud nor demanding. He could go days without talking, much less singing, and was happiest dozing off on the couch with his head in someone’s lap. His affections were subtle and easy to miss, while the emotions behind them were anything but. He met you halfway when you reached out to touch him and smiled in his sleep if you kissed him on the forehead. He would complain if you wriggled into his arms while he was working, but rearrange his position to accommodate you nonetheless.

Hizashi needed attention, while Shouta rarely sought it and nine times out of ten you and Hizashi were the ones who did all of the seducing.

Today was no exception to that particular rule.

Summer had hit Musutafu seemingly overnight. It was too hot to sleep or even snuggle on the couch. All you seemed to do lately was curl up on the floor in front of the electric fan in as many clothes as you could bear, while Hizashi stood on the balcony in a tank and shorts, stretching like a cat and mopping the sweat from his brow. It was too hot for leather and too humid for hairspray- sacrifices he had had to make, but was far from happy about.

Shouta remained relatively unchanged. He still went out at night to patrol the streets and continued to plan classes on his laptop on the couch, changing into thinner clothes, but remaining otherwise unaffected.

He was on his laptop, in fact, on this day in particular, drafting out a plan for 1-A’s future training exercises. In the meantime, Hizashi had opened up the box of popsicles you’d been keeping in the freezer and the pair of you took turns in front of the electric fan.

It was only a matter of time before the quiet, heat and lack of attention got to Hizashi and he had rested his head on your lap, golden hair splayed across your thighs. At first it was enough to snake one of his hands under your shirt and cup your breast, but before long that too lost its appeal. He shot side glances at Shouta every so often, sighing and running his tongue over the popsicle.

And so it was you found yourself caught in a battle of wills.

Hizashi waited for Shouta to look over before touching his tongue to the ice. If his gaze lasted longer than a couple of seconds, Hizashi would curl his tongue. Shouta made a point to catch his eye and not react.

Both sides were too stubborn to cave and, as usual, it fell to you to break the tension.

You took the popsicle from Hizashi and leaned back, running your own tongue over the ice. It was on the verge of melting and syrup dripped onto your shirt, causing you to gasp most theatrically and pull the shirt away from your body as if it wasn’t in the least bit planned. At first Hizashi had pouted when you stole his popsicle, but now he was grinning like a Cheshire cat.

“It’s rude to take things without asking, (Name),” he said, sitting up. “The least you can do is share.”

You held out the popsicle and he sucked at the end, leaning back to allow you to do the same. You made sure to moan far louder than was necessary, as if it was something far less innocent than a popsicle.

“Ahhh, it’s getting all over my mouth,” you said, wiping the syrup from your lips and chin. “What am I going to do?”

“I can help with that,” said Hizashi, seconds before grazing his lips over yours, checking to see if Shouta was watching before deepening the kiss.

His lips were cold and he tasted of mangoes, the same flavour as the popsicle you’d been sharing. It was sweet, but the realisation that Shouta had stopped typing was far sweeter.

Shouta didn’t seek attention out, that much was true, but he sure as shit hated being left out of the action.

~~~~~

It was only a matter of time before you ended up on your hands and knees in the bedroom. You dug your nails into the bedcovers as Hizashi gripped your hips and took you from behind, all while Shouta bunched your hair in his hands, kneeling in front of you and thrusting into your mouth.

You barreled forward every time Hizashi slammed his hips into yours, moaning from the sensation of his dick hitting the one spot that made your toes curl.

The sounds Shouta was making were obscene. The vibrations of your moans against his dick combined with the way each thrust sent it deeper down your throat left him trembling. He could do little more than hold onto your hair and even then his hands were shaking.

Hizashi was absurdly quiet, all things considered, though you couldn’t turn your head to see why. You got your answer when he made a wet sound behind you and let out a moan, something icy landing on the small of your back.

“Hizashi...are you...are you still eating the popsicle?”

“No.”

More syrup landed on your back.

“Maybe.”

You heard the smack of his lips as he put it back in his mouth only moments before he took up such an ungodly pace that you took Shouta’s cock into your hand and jerked him off, grabbing onto the bed covers so tightly that your knuckles went white. The tension inside of you was too much to bear. You felt like you were going to explode.

You squeezed your eyes shut and squealed as you came undone, mind falling blank and legs shaking. It was like an electric shock burning through your core, leaving you unable to do anything but absorb each pulse.

Hizashi slowed down to enjoy the feel of you cumming on his dick, but the reprieve lasted only a few short moments. He guided you down onto the bed and over onto your back, shifting positions with Shouta, who lifted your knees over his shoulders.

He didn't have remotely the same stamina as Hizashi. You doubted any human did. He was, however, girthier and only too happy to torment you with it. He took you slow and deep, dragging sighs from your lips at the overstimulation. You were still having aftershocks from cumming the first time and saw stars each time his hips hit yours.

You turned your head to lick the tip of Hizashi’s dick, matching the pressure and speed of Shouta’s thrusts. Hizashi sucked in a deep breath, leaning over to grab Shouta by the hair and moan into his mouth.

The first time you had ever had sex with Hizashi, he shattered every window in your apartment building. You had laughed it off as an earthquake, though got the feeling no one believed you.

You had learned the hard way that he was loud when he came and the easiest way to prevent it was to stifle the sound before it could leave his lips, be it with a gag, by sitting on his face, preoccupying him with a blowjob or, as was the case now, with kissing.

You lay on your back and watched them nip at each other’s lips, waves of pleasure rushing through you. You were glad Shouta was holding onto your legs, for it felt as if the bones had left your body.

Hizashi was the next to come, whimpering into Shouta’s kisses as his dick twitched. He sat up and gave himself a final couple of tugs before spilling over your chest. Shouta followed suit, sitting up onto his knees and coming across your stomach.

Double the boyfriends, you considered fleetingly, double the mess.

~~~~

You stayed in bed for at least an hour after that, catching your breath and basking in the afterglow. It was still unbearably hot and no one was particularly enthusiastic about putting on clothes, even though the heat from one other’s bodies swiftly overpowered any relief from the electric fan.

“Why is it that whenever you two have shenanigans I end up in the middle?”

You could hear the fatigue in your own voice; the perfect compliment to how heavy your eyelids felt.

“I thought you liked being in the middle,” said Hizashi, only to squeak as you poked him in the ribs.

“I suppose I should take a bath,” you groaned, peeling Shouta’s arms from your waist and untangling your legs from Hizashi’s.

Your legs were more than a little floppy, but you disguised it by dropping to your knees to pick up your discarded clothes.

“(Name),” said Shouta, “wait.”

You turned to him, heart fluttering. Ordinarily he tolerated hugs at best, but on the rare occasions you managed to keep him awake after sex he was the biggest cuddler you’d ever met.

Maybe he wanted you to go back to bed.

Maybe he wanted to join you in the bath.

“Yes?”

“You’re blocking the fan.”

You turned to the fan behind you, heart sinking.

“And they say romance is dead,” you muttered, stepping out of the room.

Hizashi and Shouta closed their eyes, enjoying the feel of the cool air against their exposed skin. The peaceful moment was soon over, though, for seconds later you slipped your arm back through the doorway and flicked the off switch.

“Hey!!”

“(Name)!”

“Switch it back on, switch it back on!”

“Make me,” you said, sticking out your tongue and closing the door behind you.

“Oooooh,” Hizashi huffed, climbing out of bed. “When I catch you…”

He ran out of the bedroom and chased you through the apartment, paying little heed to the fact that you were both as naked as the day you were born.

Shouta turned over onto his side and fluffed his pillow.

He could sleep through just about anything; a fire alarm...hot weather...

...and, apparently, the sound of his two idiot lovers spraying one another with water.

[alicewrit3s]

hi! can you write number 21 on ur prompt list for jadon? 🤎🤎

PEACE OF MIND ━━ JADON SANCHO.

Prompt: "When did you stop loving me?" Summary: Jadon turns up on your doorstep after your breakup, to which he isn't visibly doing okay. Warning: Angst, fluff. Notes: I might do a part 2 to this, tell me what you think. Masterlist.

The ringing sound of the doorbell radiates through your homely residence.

Your eyelids flicker open to the dim room, taking a minute to ensure that you weren’t hearing things. Located within your living room lingers the blinking, bright light of your quiet TV, illuminating your exhausted expression and curled up body amongst the grand, greyish couch. With no knowledge of how long you’d been sleeping, you were able to identify that it had been for some time given daylight no longer existed.

It rings again. This time for certain. Your eyebrows furrow. You weren’t exactly expecting anyone this late. You tiredly trudge over to your front door before briefly looking through the peephole. The arrival on the other side left you almost speechless. Inky curls positioned in a high top, chestnut puppy eyes roaming around uneasily, tasteful, expensive earrings practically blinding you through the hole. Jadon Sancho, your ex-boyfriend, a man you never thought you would ever see again, standing on your doorstep.

You didn’t know what came over you as you began to open the door, given how intense and pitiful your breakup had been. “Jadon?” His gaze instantly flickers up to meet yours, an unsure look present in those dark eyes.

“Hey…” He sighs. He notices from the certain level of tiredness that weaves through your expression that he’d woke you up causing him to feel a little guilty.

“What… What are you doing here?” You shift the cuff of your sleeves over your hands as you lean nervously against the door. “You alright?”

“I don’t know, I —” His hand rises to scratch the back of his head as a shy laugh utters into the frigid air. “Sorry. I don’t know what I was thinking, I'll let you get back to sleep. Goodnight —”

“Wait, no.” You immediately stop him as he turns to walk away. “Don’t be silly, you’re clearly not ok. Come in, it’s cold.” Jadon stares at you slightly in disbelief. He was no longer in your life, physically, and you weren’t in his. He felt terrible for invading your space but as you pull the door open wider for him, he’s met with a small, reassuring smile.

He mirrors your smile before stepping into your home. A familiar warmth nips and rushes against his stone-cold skin, by the cause of your toasty house. A wave of nostalgia washes over him as he discreetly peers around the room, noticing that in the shortish span of time, not much had changed.

It’d been an entire month following the split of yours and Jadon’s almost-year relationship. You’ve yet to forget the day in which you parted — the sweet words, the laughter, the silliness, the displays of affection, all down the drain following the night of conflict. You were both in a rocky place, both dealing with your individual problems, both failing to go through a day without a little dispute. It didn’t help that even though you did get around to sharing your troubles, your boyfriend was still bottling up his emotions. This only led to him gradually slipping through your fingers.

You vividly remember opening your eyes the next morning to the soft light piercing your room, with no sign of Jadon whatsoever indicating the harsh reality of your separation. You were hurting — but so was he. Your friends were witnesses of the identical dark rimmed shadows that hung from your dull set of eyes, the overbearing heartache that loomed over you both, leaving you a troubled mess cocooned in your bedsheets.

It was for the best, you had to tell yourself — or was it?

From his gravity-drawn shoulders, to his uneasy position sitting on the corner of your sofa, there was no denying something had been bothering the man you once loved — that you still loved. You just weren’t sure if the feeling was reciprocated.

“It’s good seeing you,” Jadon starts. He wasn’t entirely lying — with his deep brown eyes flickering up to meet yours to the slight tug of the left side of his lips, the delicate sight of you still in one piece and doing ok leaves him with a relieved sigh. Anything could happen in a month, especially when you spend such time apart. “I never thought I’d see you again.”

You frown a little, your eyes lowering towards the ground for a brief moment. “You and me both.” You hated it. You hated knowing that you were partly the reason for the man’s reddish eyes, ever since you were the one that broke up with him. “But we broke up, J.”

“I know,” He sighs. “I know… But don’t you ever think that perhaps it was a mistake?” Yes, you wanted to say. Yes, a million times, for you pondered the same thought almost every day. There’s a brief moment of silence that lingers between you both, “I — I couldn’t sleep y’know. I still can’t, not without you beside me.” He nervously chuckles as he continues, “It keeps me up at night… knowing that I was never good enough for you —”

You instantly stop him there, all signs of disagreement seeping through your sorrowful expression and actions. You find yourself scooting forwards as you desperately grasp onto his larger hands. “Don’t you ever think like that, J. You were the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“Then, why Y/N?” He blinks back the frustrated tears. “Why’d you have to leave me?” Your lip quivers at the notable voice break, indicating that he was on the verge of tearing up — unlike you, he’s able to control it. “When did you stop loving me?” He whispers. You feel a sudden urge to pull him against you in a tight, warm hug for both your sake and his, but you find that would only make matters worse.

The corner of his soft lips turn downwards as he carefully watches you. There’s a chill in your blood at his innocent, hushed question — so hushed that you probably wouldn’t have heard it if it wasn’t for the intense, eerie silence that lingers in your household.

“I still do, J.” You breath, squeezing his cold hands, that nestles into your grip, gently. “Trust me, I never stopped. I’ll love you, always. But we were only hurting each other."

“We needed time apart,” Jadon acknowledges with a sigh. Overtime he did have a chance to fully reflect the state of your deteriorating relationship, and how unfair he had been to you by completely shutting you out. That doesn’t mean he didn’t still want to be with you, he’d wait a million years for you if he had to. “And now?”

There’s a hopeful glint in his eyes. Jadon observes as you detangle your fingers from his grip to wind your arms around his neck. He instantly snuggles in, his body pressing in, soft and warm. He allows his body to sag. You can feel it in the sigh that tickles your neck as he rests his chin comfortably on your shoulder. “I just want what’s best for you.”

He lightly pulls away, not completely, but just enough for you to witness the look of certainty on his face. “You are what’s best for me.”

[elenamiria]

The Bad Batch x Reader - Kinktober Day 12

Threesome (or more) | Uniforms | Role Reversal 

Word Count: 2.1k Warnings: fivesome, unprotected sex, masturbation (m and f), Oral (m and f receiving), voyeurism, recording, daddy kink, creampie 

Kinktober Day 12 (#1)  « Kinktober Masterlist »  Kinktober Day 13

Main Masterlist & Taggies: @legally-a-bastard

Your fingers pumped desperately as mewls flew from your lips. You were needy and aching, your troopers were away on a mission, they had been for about a week now, and you had no idea when they were coming back. Tech had left you a disk with holo vids, ones that he recorded - ones of you fucking them, in case you needed them he said. Turns out you did need them, your sex drive was high but it was nothing compared to your men who made sure you were dizzy with pleasure whenever you wanted which happened almost daily. So, a week apart was near torture and your fingers were poor substitutes for what you truly craved.

As you watched Hunter pounding away at you in shaky blue you failed to notice the telltale noises of your boys coming home.

When the door to your room swung open with a bang you shrieked, quickly pulling your fingers out of yourself, and dove for the nearest blanket. Hunter winced at the loud noise before walking into the room muttering, “What a welcome home, I thought I smelled something...delicious.”

A loud call of your name echoed from behind him and suddenly Wrecker was barreling into the room. He raced to your side before pulling you into a passionate kiss. Smiling into it you cupped his face, eagerly returning his affection. When you pulled away you looked back to the others, Crosshair and Tech having filed in behind Wrecker, and a large relieved smile covered your face, “I missed you all so much, I’m so happy you’re home!”

“You missed us so much you couldn’t wait for us, huh baby?” Hunter questioned a knowing gleam in his eye. Tech’s wide eyes flew to the holo disc laying on the ground and a wide grin covered his face, the light by the side of his glasses lighting up red as he started recording. Crosshair approached you on the opposite side of the bed as Wrecker, who’s large palm was resting on your neck still. Crosshair eyed your body, your naked bottom half was covered by a blanket and your top half was clad in one of Wrecker’s spare undershirts, his fingers danced over your thigh. Gripping the blanket lightly he started tugging it down slowly as he did he quietly whispered, “Why don’t you show us what you’re hiding under there, show us all what a filthy girl you are.”

You whined as the blanket was pulled past your hips and down your thighs, exposing your dripping cunt to them. Crosshair eagerly dipped his fingers into your swollen folds, his long fingers gathering your slick as he slowly pumped in and out. Wrecker groaned from beside you as he started undressing. Crosshair leaned down to capture your lips with his and as you kissed he murmured against your lips, “Are you going to be a good girl for daddy?”

Your walls fluttered around his fingers as you nodded into the kiss. You were rewarded by his thumb circling your clit and a moan was swallowed by his eager lips.

Wrecker called your name and you broke apart from Crosshair to turn to him, you moaned again at the sight of him palming at his massive length. You used your elbows to sit up as you beckoned him over and when he reached you you took him as best you could into your mouth. You felt Crosshair’s fingers leave you and started when a tongue lapped at your pussy. Pulling away for a moment you looked down to see Hunter’s head buried in between your thighs, long dark strands of his hair tickling your thighs. He licked and nipped at you as you returned to messily blowing Wrecker, it was always a struggle whenever you took the large trooper in your mouth. Your spit  coated your chin on every bob of your head and you had to use your hand to pump the parts of his cock that would fit into your mouth. You knew Wrecker loved it as he was very vocal with calls of your name, enthusiastic ‘Oh yes’s and his loud groans as his hips thrust forward lightly.

Tech circled around the bed always trying to get the best angle of your body, the best shot of your blissed out expression. He gently pushed your top up over your breasts and tweaked at your nipples causing you to let out a muffled whine. Hunter seemed content on edging you, nipping and suckling at your clit as your pussy clenched and you bucked your hips, he would pause right as you built up to let you drop down again. When he had his fill of your sweet nectar he stood up, removing just enough of his armor to take out his aching length and plunged into your depths. You pulled off of wrecker with a pop to cry out Hunter’s name and the he started a harsh pace. As he pounded away into your soaked cunt he growled your name whenever he thrust particularly deep and your walls clenched around him. Wrecker whined out your name as you had been distracted by watching Hunter’s thick cock disappearing into your body, coming back out coated in your juices.

Turning your attention back to Wrecker you started sucking his length again, taking his as far into your mouth as you could. He stared down at you in awe as you lapped at his head and when you looked up at him, eyes filled with adoration and lust, he thought he could bust right there. But he held out, wanting to be with you for as long as possible, until you reached your hand up to caress his face. He had to bend down for you to reach him, you had shifted all of your weight to one arm, but as soon as your fingers brushed his scarred cheek he was exploding, ribbons of cum shooting into your warm mouth. You gladly swallowed him all down and he shook slightly as you sucked him clean, pulling away as it was too much and backing away. 

Now that you had one less distraction Hunter drew your attention back to him, he had been kneeling in between your legs but now that Wrecker had moved he crawled up your body to hover over you. His thrusts had slowed again and you were aching to cum, your eyes begging him. He took mercy on you and considering how sensitive he was to everything he starting to verge on overstimulation. His pace sped up dramatically as you wrapped a leg around his waist, the other falling wide open, and one of his hands snuck to rub fiercely at your clit. His face buried in your neck biting and sucking away, claiming you. As he hit a particular sensitive spot on your neck with a sharp bite it all came crashing down around you. A loud cry pulled from your throat and your back arched as you clenched tightly around Hunters length. His hips stuttered as he fell over the edge with you, whimpers only loud enough for you to hear left him as he pumped you full of his seed. He pulled away quickly, he always did - the sensations tended to overwhelm him and he retreated from the room after tucking himself away.

Tech wandered over having taken his cock out finally and was casually stroking it. You reached for him but a subtle head shake told you exactly what he wanted. You ran your hands down your body, stopping to play with your tits. You tweaked your nipples and rolled the nubs between your fingers playing up your reactions with added moans as you writhed on the bed. You kept one hand on your breast as your other trailed to your folds. You were able to plunge two fingers in easily and started pumping away, keeping your little show up. You moaned his name out desperately over and over as you rubbed at your clit and you looked up at him with wide, innocent eyes as you bit your lip. Letting a low whine out you called to him again, “Tech, oh baby, I want you to cum all over me. Cum all over my tits please, I want you so badly!”

With your words his pace sped up and a small moan of your name left his mouth as spurts of cum flew from his cock to coat your chest. You kept moaning as he came and with a grin you leaned forward licking his cock clean before you leaned back and gathered his cum on your fingers. You held eye contact as you slipped the fingers coated in his essence into your mouth, eyes closing with a moan as you sucked on them. You pulled your fingers from your mouth with a pop and a cheeky grin. Tech blushed at the display and he leaned down to give you a small peck and a whispered ‘thank you’ before he left the room.

You glanced over to the wall that Crosshair was leaning against, having been patiently waiting until the two of you were alone. Crosshair strolled to the bed sitting on the edge, he had stripped down to his blacks while you were occupied and you saw the tent in them as his cock strained for freedom. He patted his thigh and you scooted upright so you could straddle him. His hands gently slid up your sides to fling your shirt off your body, leaving you completely bare. His eyes trailed up and down appreciatively before he said, “Why don’t you ride Daddy’s cock?”

You bit your lip at his tone and nodded as you pulled him free from his pants, stroking up and down a few times. Greedily you lined him up and sunk onto his long cock until he was sheathed to the hilt. You moaned and started to raise your hips up and down, your thighs slapping against his. Your tits shook tin time with your movements and Crosshair’s eyes were drawn to them, hands coming to cup them. You bounced on his lap, hands bracing on his shoulders, as fast as you could and your thighs burned. You moaned as Crosshair started to raise his hips to meet your thrusts, and his precise fingers flicked at your nipples. You whimpered his name out and his hands shifted to your hips to help raise and slam you back onto his cock. “Stars your taking my cock so well, such a good little girl for me. You’d do anything I said wouldn’t you?”

You groaned out a yes as one of your hands snuck down to rub your clit. Crosshair’s hand smacked yours away as he took over and shifted his hips to hit that spot inside of you that made you see stars. His precise fingers toying with your clit mixed with his pace as he slammed into your g-spot at each thrust had you unraveling before him and he crooned, “That’s a good girl, cumming all over Daddy’s cock.”

His hips raised higher than before as he continued to fuck up into you, faster now, his fingers kept at your clit as you became incoherent with pleasure and overstimulation. You could barely comprehend when your world flipped and you were on your back, legs tossed over Crosshair’s shoulders as he pounded away into your pussy. The new angle allowed him to press into you deeper, hips slapping against your ass at each thrust, and he approached his orgasm quickly, grinding out, “I’m gonna fill this tight little pussy up, can you cum one more time for daddy?”

His hand worked furiously at your clit and a light slap on your bundle of nerves had you spiraling into bliss as you called his name out loudly. His moan mixed with yours as his hips slammed into you as he came, panting your name out and the hand on your hip tightening harshly. You panted as his cum squirted deep inside of you adding to the already full feeling you had after Hunter came. Crosshair pumped into you a few more times ensuring you got every drop of his cum deep within you before he pulled out. Crosshair lowered your legs gently, rubbing your hips lightly to ensure your muscles weren’t too sore and you smiled up at him blearily as you muttered, “Are you going to stay with me?”

A rare smile covered his face and he nodded pulling out of you gently. He softly stroked your face and said he was going to grab something to clean you up with. As he left you noticed Wrecker lurking in the doorway. You called out to him softly and he shyly entered. With a smile you beckoned him over asking if he wanted to stay with you tonight as well, to which he excitedly nodded. Crosshair returned with a damp cloth and eyed Wrecker muttering, “He can stay as long as he stays on his side of the bed.”

You giggled, the last time you were all together Crosshair had ended up being thrown from the bed when Wrecker rolled over to the middle of the bed causing you to shift back and thus knocking Crosshair off the edge. After Crosshair got you cleaned up the three of you settled into bed, the two men on either side of you. Crosshair’s back pressed against yours and you were half laying on Wrecker’s large torso. It didn't take long before you were drifting off to sleep, warm, cozy and feeling perfectly at home.

[halcyonstorm]

@levihan-drabbles
Fandom: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan Rating: Mature Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings Relationships: Levi Ackerman/Hange Zoë, Levi Ackerman & Hange Zoë Characters: Levi Ackerman, Hange Zoë Additional Tags: Jealousy, LeviHan Drabble Week, Choking, Praise Kink, Explicit Sexual Content, Anniversary, Switching, Smut, I haven’t written smut in a long time please bear with me Series: Part 7 of Short Fics Summary: He keeps staring at Hange. Hange doesn’t notice. Levi does. Hange and Levi were out on a date for their one year anniversary on a beautiful Saturday night. They sat outside in a fancy restaurant. Small fairy lights wrapped around the perimeter of the property. A pianist was playing a song in the main lobby, softly making its way to the outside area where the couple was dining. Everything was going swell, until Levi happened to look to his right. When he did so, he saw a man staring at his girlfriend. At first, he thought his eyes were deceiving him. It wasn’t until Hange had stood up to go to the bathroom when he noticed this man gawking at her, looking her up and down. She looked absolutely ravishing; she wore a beautiful, silk, ruby red dress with a slit exposing her right leg that hugged her curves in all the right places. Her matching red heels accentuated her toned quads and calves. He knew she wasn’t one to dress up, but her extra efforts didn’t go unnoticed. Levi almost got hard just looking at her for the first time that evening. Levi decided to take matters into his own hands. He left his jacket at their table and started walking over to the man. This man was definitely taller than Levi with a broad chest and slick blonde hair. “Are you eyeing my girl?” Levi sneered, his eyes piercing through the blonde man. “So what if I am? With you being so short and all, do you have the goods to compensate? Is that why she’s with you? I’m just thinking about all the ways I can please her that you can’t.” the blonde replied, his hearty voice chuckling. Levi discreetly kneed the man in his crotch, causing him to buckle over, his head at Levi’s height. “Oh, you wish. I’ll make sure I fuck her in ways you can’t even imagine with your pea-sized brain. Have a good fucking evening.” Levi saw his girlfriend approaching him so he gave her a small smile and they interlocked arms. As they walked away, Levi flipped off the blonde man. Levi went to the table to grab his jacket before they left the restaurant. “Levi, thank you for everything. Happy one year,” Hange said softly. Her voice was sweet and seductive. “No need to thank me, four-eyes. Happy one year.” “I can’t believe you still call me that.” “You still wear glasses, don’t you?” Hange laughed at his comment, her laugh almost taking his breath away. When they got to Levi’s car, he opened the door for her. She nodded her head before getting inside. Levi shut the door, ran around, and got in the driver’s seat. “Levi, you look so handsome tonight,” she said, admiring her boyfriend. “God, I am so lucky.” He visibly smiled at her. Hange knew he didn’t smile very frequently, so she always savored the moment whenever she got the privilege. As Levi drove them home, he started to become insecure. Maybe he wasn’t enough for Hange. Maybe he couldn’t please her. Maybe he was lacking in different areas that she wouldn’t say. He didn’t understand why he let that man get to him; he decided it was because he was staring at his girl. He was broken out of his trance when Hange placed her hand on his inner upper thigh. The warmth of her hand sent blood rushing to his dick instantaneously. She secretly loved the power she held over him. He moaned ever so softly when she did this, and she noticed. “Hange,” he said sternly. “I need to focus.” He didn’t want to be persuasive though. “We’re on our street, silly.” He parked the car, trying not to look too eager as he unbuckled his seatbelt and got out of the car. He already had his keys in his hands once they entered the apartment building. Getting to his room, he quickly unlocked the door, allowing Hange to enter first. She quickly kicked off her shoes, as did Levi once he shut and locked the door. “Hange, you-“ Her hands were already untying his tie as she passionately kissed him. His hands were placed at her waist, feeling the silk fabric beneath his fingertips. He squeezed slightly, feeling the soft skin of her belly underneath. They didn’t break the kiss as they entered the bedroom. Levi was already unbuttoning his top. She pushed him onto the bed with a slightly forceful shove. It turned Levi on instantly. He loved when she pushed him around. He felt his face flush as he became flustered. She knelt on the bed, crawling towards him. He got a revealing view of her boobs and cleavage. He reached out to touch her right one, squeezing it. It felt soft, too soft. “No bra tonight,” Hange mentioned, winking as she straddled him. Levi let out an overwhelmed sigh. He cupped it, squeezing firmly again. He loved how soft they felt in his hands. How they were small but perfectly so, fitting in his hands. They slightly overfilled his hands which he loved. His other hand slid up her smooth, freshly shaven thigh. “No panties either?” he asked, kissing and nipping her collarbone. “Why don’t you find out?” she teased, wrapping her hand around his neck, choking him. The sensation of her hand on his neck made his dick throb harder underneath her. She giggled. “You like that?” she asked, starting to kiss her way down his neck to his muscular chest and abdomen, not giving him a chance to check if she was bare underneath. She brushed her fingertips over his abs. She felt extremely lucky. “Yes,” he moaned, starting to unbuckle his belt. He melted whenever she touched him; He needed her. One of the straps of Hange’s dress was hanging off her shoulder. Levi did the honors of pulling the dress down to her stomach, exposing her round breasts. The sight made Levi sit up on his knees, pushing her onto her back. He kissed her lips sloppily before beginning to suck on her nipple. The feeling caused Hange to start throbbing too, aching for him. He choked her as he kissed and bit his way down to her throbbing, soaked region. He enjoyed how she got so confident when touching him, but once he lays a hand on her, she is a horny mess. He pulled the dress off her torso, leaving her bare. She was, in fact, wearing a black, lacy thong. He began to kiss over where her clit was, warming the area. It caused her to squirm underneath him. “Levi… fuck!” she moaned. “Please touch me.” “I am touching you,” he retorted, licking the inside of her thighs. His warm, wet tongue caused her to shiver, her legs opening wider. He moved her thong to the side, exposing her pussy. He could see her clit and opening throb. I did this to her, he thought. I guess I’ve still got it. “Y-you know what I mean,” she panted, pulling her panties off entirely, Hange’s legs pressed together in the air to do so. He respectfully pulled her thighs apart, gripping the inside of each, soft thigh. He put his tongue on her clit, drawing small circles. He attempted to write his name in cursive with his tongue. Her moans sounded like one from a goddess. His fingers almost slipped into her opening since she was so wet. “Why are you so wet?” he asked, already knowing the answer. “It’s your fault, Levi. Now, clean me u-“ She didn’t even need to finish speaking before he shoved two fingers inside her, still working his magic on her clit. She was moaning louder now, on the verge of screaming. “Fuck, Levi. Fuck!” she exclaimed, her back arching. “I need you inside me now.” Say no more, Levi thought. He instantly stopped, pulling his boxers down. His dick popped up and out of his underwear, already dripping. He was going to push it inside her when she placed both her hands on it, pumping at a fast and consistent pace. The sight of her drive him fucking crazy: her legs spread in the air as she jerked him off, her blushed and sweaty face, her sexy body underneath him, her tits jiggling with each pump of his dick. He let out moans of pleasure, which encouraged her to grip him stronger. “Get off me,” he commanded, pulling her legs closer to him. She let go, allowing him to put his dick inside her. As he entered, her name slipped out of his mouth. It was so soft, tight, and warm, he was almost sent to the edge. He grabbed her waist, slowly but consistently thrusting his long throbbing dick into her pussy. Each thrust allowed a moan to escape each of their lips. Levi mentally flipped off the blonde man at the restaurant. “You like it, baby?” He asked, starting to pick up the pace. “Yes… yes… yes,” She answered. Her eyes rolled back, causing Levi to put his hand around her throat. She was his. He felt himself getting close, and with some damn good will-power, he took his dick out. He kissed her passionately, teasing her opening. “God, you’re so fucking good to me,” She panted, sitting up. “Let me ride you. Let me thank you.” She whispered this in his ear, sending chills down his entire body. She placed her hand on his chest, pushing him supine into the bed. She crawled on top of him, straddling but facing him. He took a moment to admire her body. Her round breasts, her slightly curved waist, the skin growing wider on her hips when she straddled him. She grabbed his dick from behind, slowly easing down on it. She placed her hands firmly on his strong chest, beginning to grind her hips forward and back, and up and down. He was getting close. Whenever she rode him, just seeing her in and of itself made him horny. Whenever he jerked off alone, this is what he thought about every single time. She looked so hot when she rode him, it couldn’t be helped. The sound of the skin slapping together and each of their moans filled the room. “I’m all fucking yours, Levi!” She exclaimed, starting to pick up her pace. He placed his hand around her neck, pulling her face towards him. “I don’t think I heard you correctly,” Levi whispered in her ear, her body shaking on top of his. “Who are you talking about?” He began to thrust his hips upward, thrusting into her. He needed just a little more convincing “You…” She panted. He pounded harder and harder, causing her to moan louder. “Yours, Levi! I love you. I’m all fucking yours!” She continued to chant this a few more times before Levi placed his fingers to her clit, pressing a bit and rubbing in a circular motion. She opened her mouth to speak, but only cries came out. Suddenly, Levi felt her pussy contract around his dick, warming to an extreme. When he looked at her beautiful, pleasured face and her round, perky breasts and as she orgasmed on his dick, he came too. “Fuck, Hange,” he exhaled, filling her up. She slowly rocked her hips forward and back as he came inside her. Her body fell atop of his, her head next to his. Both of them were panting loud. She slowly sat up and got off his dick. She lay next to her lover. “Oh my fucking God,” She sighed, looking at Levi. She admired his side profile for a moment. His beautiful slightly-turned-up nose; his pink, swollen, wet lips; his messy raven hair. “What got into you?” He took a deep breath before responding. “Well, if you let me finish my sentence earlier, I was going to tell you how beautiful you looked.” “Would you prefer it if I didn’t interrupt?” “No.” Hange chuckled softly, interlocking their fingers. “You know at the restaurant I saw you. Right?” Hange asked, looking at Levi again. He furrowed his brows, then his face relaxed. “Oh.” He realized she did just appear as he kneed that bastard in the crotch. He huffed. “Did you get jealous?” She asked. “…No. Of course not.” Hange kissed his shoulder, knowing the opposite was true. “I just wanted to remind you of how much I love you. How no one else can have you.” Hange chuckled, using her elbow to prop herself up to look at him head on. She placed her hand on his cheek, their eyes fixed on one another’s. “I love you, too. If you need me to prove it to you, just say the word.”

[duskholland]

please indulge me with a post-proposal balcony celebration where y/n’s dress doesn’t come all the way off thank youuuu

status: post-story; engaged; your pov - balcony shenanigans. read the fame game!

this is...a need and not a want. thank you for sending it in :’)

— finishing tfg blurb night! — // contains nsfw -- 18+ minors dni.

extended warnings: contains fem-receiving fingering and unprotected balcony sex (please wrap before you tap) 

———

The hard railing of the balcony presses into your back, but the ache is the last thing on your mind as your lips meet with Tom’s again and again. Your hands are on his shoulders, and in the dim glow coming up from the city below you, the engagement ring on your finger glints. It catches your eye, makes you pull away from Tom’s lips, so soft and pillowy, to stare at the diamond, a small smirk flickering out across your face.

“What is it?” Tom grunts, his hands on your waist. He presses his face into your neck as you inspect the ring, his nose cool against your skin.

“Just admiring my new accessory,” you mumble. Your breath hitches as his lips roam the column of your throat, biting and sucking at your sensitive skin until you’re moaning. “Fuck, Tom.” You finally stop looking at your ring, drawing your hands up to hold his hair. You pull him nearer, your eyes screwing shut as he nips at the tender patch below your ear before smoothing over the bite with his tongue.

Tom weaves his way around to your mouth, leaving a series of wet kiss along your jawline before capturing your lips in a deep snog.

“You know,” he says, speaking against your lips. His hands are on your waist, but they creep back to rest on the curves of your bum. As he pulls you closer, his eyes glint in the dim evening light. “Been thinking about pulling off this dress all night.” His voice is low, accented, and it sends thrills down your spine, straight to your centre. “You look bloody stunning, love.”

You bite your lip, stifling a moan as Tom grabs handfuls of your ass over the material of the dress. “Thank you,” you manage. You’re overcome with a very sudden, very deep urge to have him, as you look at the lust in his eyes. Your fiancé looks exceptionally handsome tonight - covered in that fitted suit, his short brown hair clipped and styled just how you like it. The scent of his cologne is almost overpowering. “Tom.”

“Mm?”

You drop your lips to his ear, letting your teeth briefly brush his lobe before whispering, darkly, “Want you to fuck me on this balcony.”

Tom groans, and you think you can feel the hard line of his length pushing up against you before he moves away, his hands shifting down your thighs. He very quickly and easily moves them beneath your dress, the loose skirt giving him easy access. You moan softly when he knocks your thighs apart and drags two of his fingers across the front of your panties.

“Well, well, well,” Tom murmurs. He looks up at you, a cocky smirk hanging from his lips. “You’re wet.”

You bite back a moan as his hand dips beneath the material. With those skilled, slender digits, Tom dips his fingertips down to your hot entrance, gathering some of the slick pooled at your hole before dragging it up to your clit. He watches your face, seeming to enjoy the small whimpering moans that leave your lips as he works his touch over your tender bud.

“Feels so good,” you tell him, voice hoarse. You press back against the railing, glad for the support. Tom’s back to kissing up your neck, suckling small hickeys against your skin. You pull him closer, grinning when you feel his cock, more pronounced that ever, nudging against your thigh. “I like this suit on you,” you add, “Makes you look very dashing.”

“Thanks, darling.” Tom easily slips two of his fingers into you, quickly opening you up. There’s no resistance - you’re needy for it, soaked with arousal, your blood boiling in your veins as you grip to his shoulders and grind down to meet his digits as they explore your passage.

“You should keep it on,” you say, breathless. Though it’s the last thing you want to do, you push him back a little. Tom retracts his fingers, giving your clit a final rub before moving his hand to his mouth and sucking off your arousal, his eyes dark.

“Oh, really?” Tom hands move over your figure, stroking over your hips, applying a hard pressure that makes you whimper. “Are you that fucking desperate?”

You nod, throat running dry. “Yeah,” you admit, “I need you, Tom.” You decide to tease him, running a hand down until you feel his crotch, your palm applying firm pressure to his straining member. “I think you need me too,” you add, whispering into the night sky. He groans as he grinds against you, and the sight of his cheeks flushed pink and his eyes blown wide with lust makes you feel powerful. “Don’t you want to fuck me?”

Tom almost groans, his voice strained. “There is nothing I’d like to do more than make beautiful, passionate love to my gorgeous fiancé all night,” he affirms, making you shiver in response. He raises an eyebrow, one of his hands going to your cheek. “Why don’t you undo my belt and turn around, love?”

You do as instructed, excited fingers trembling as you release his belt buckle and turn around. You reach down for the hem of your dress, pulling it up, up, up, until it’s bunched at your waist. You glance back to Tom, watching as he kicks off his trousers and boxers, one of his hands going to his cock. He keeps his eyes on yours as he slowly jerks himself off, running his thumb over his weeping tip as he smirks.

“Like what you see?” He asks.

“You know I do.”

Tom releases himself, his fingers going to the waistband of your panties. He kneels behind you as he tugs them down your legs, depositing a few kisses to the back of your shins as he helps you out of the lace. As Tom makes his way back up your figure, his hands find purchase on your hips. He pulls you back and you arch your spine, fingers curling around the smooth metal railing of the balcony as you bend over.

“You’re bloody lucky we don’t have any neighbours up here,” he mumbles. You gasp as you feel his tip press up against your clit, his cock sliding between your folds with ease. “Doesn’t mean the neighbours down the hill won’t be able to hear you scream, though.”

You shiver, dropping your head between your arms as you feel him press up against your entrance, teasing you.

“You’d like that though, wouldn’t you?” Tom chuckles, his voice full of fondness. “You little minx.”

Before you can think of a suitable response, Tom knocks you off-guard by entering you, easing into you with a slow thrust that makes you cry out in pleasure. Your fingers tighten around the railing as he pulls back, at a pace so torturously languid that it makes you swear beneath your breath.

“Faster,” you beg, adding a moment later, “Please.”

Tom squeezes your waist, humming. “Mm, anything for my future wife.”

He delivers on his word, and you find yourself breathing heavily as he starts to fuck you properly. With his hands wandering your hips, cock slapping up deep within you and his slow grunting moans filling the air around you, you find your eyes rolling back.

“Fuck, Tom,” you whine. The angle feels incredibly satisfying, and as you drop your head lower and redistribute your weight, it allows him to slip into you deeper, tip hitting your soft, sweet spot. “Fuck.”

“Does that feel good?” He asks, voice cocky. He knows it’s good, knows how much you love to feel him all over you.

“Yes,” you agree. “So good.”

Your body jerks as one of Tom’s hands curls around your front, going down to stimulate your clit as his other gropes your chest. He’s so close to you, his crotch hitting against you with each focused thrust, sounds of skin on skin slapping through the air. As he rubs your slick bud, you moan loudly, your walls clenching around him as you feel yourself near the verge of a slow, building high.

“Can’t wait to do this for the rest of my fucking life,” Tom tells you, rasping into the darkness. “Love this sweet cunt.” He’s rambling, but his voice remains clear, hanging heavy with his accent that always seems to jump out a little more prominently when he takes you like this. “Feels like it was made just for me.”

“It was.” You’re grinding back to meet him, your grip on the railing tightening each time his length hits you just right. Your face is hot, your hair unsettled, and you’re panting, but it’s perfect, and it’s hot, because it’s Tom pulling at your body and speaking praise into the air. “What’s mine is yours.”

Tom seems to really like that, and he grunts as he rubs your clit a little faster.

“Squeezing me so tight, darling,” he murmurs. “”M gonna cum.”

You bite your lip, feeling the brink of your high ready to spill. “Me too,” you manage, voice tight.

“Go on, love,” he urges, “I want to watch you cum for me.”

It’s a bit of a blur - a mess of clenched knuckles, shaking legs and an orgasm so intense it makes you cry out loudly. You’re glad for Tom’s arms wrapped around you, because the strength of the climax that unfurls in the pit of your stomach and rolls across your figure in waves is so deep, and unprecedented that it makes you falter. Tom, on the other hand, stands steadier, holding you closer, thrusting into you as he cums a few moments after you. His cock throbs inside your hot passage as he works his fingers over you, drawing out your climax until you’re shaking.

“Shit,” you say breathlessly, relaxing as Tom slips from you. He pulls you up, and you shake your hands out as he hugs you from behind, your dress slipping back down, obscuring the mess of his cum dripping down between your thighs.

You meet him in a sloppy kiss, both of you breathing hot and heavy.

“You’re unreal,” he almost moans. “Unreal.” Tom shifts his lips to your nose, making you giggle.

“So are you,” you say. You twist in his arms until you’re able to throw your hands around his neck, your fingers finding home in his hair. “Never a dull moment with you, Tom.”

Your fiancé nods, grinning at you before returning his hands to your waist. He pulls you closer, lips nudging your cheek before your ear.

“We’re not done yet,” Tom promises. “The night is just beginning, love, and we have a lot of things to celebrate.”

You smile, gazing at him with love in your eyes.

“Let’s get to it, then.”

[fragileizywriting]

locker talk (chapter three) is out now!

pairing: Luka / Marinette (Viperion / Multimouse) word count: 9,846 / 26,058 (in total) chapter: 3/3 rating: E summary: Her fingers are in his hair again, somehow, and she grips him tenderly to not hurt and pull at him— but, gooseberries— it’s so much— she’s not even sure how long it takes for her to come back to reality and blink away the stars from her eyes. He kisses the inside of her thigh. “How are you feeling, Mousey?” “I’m—” Her eyes don’t want to focus. She doesn’t even know what she wants to look at. The ceiling? The blanket? Him? “I’m feeling fucked-out.” That gets a laugh out of him. “Cursing twice in one night? I must be doing something right.”

AO3 | Start Here | Chapter One Link | Chapter Two Link | You Are Here!

Thank you everyone for being so patient! And thank you for all the love you've given me and this fic! You're the best!

She’s never tasted the bitterness of come before.

Okay— she’s read about it. Extensively. She knows that it makes people’s faces pinch, sometimes, when they taste it for the first time because it’s an acquired taste— that for lots of people, the first time tasting it, it’s… strange. Some people don’t mind the taste, she knows— some people love it. She’s spent countless hours scrolling on the internet reading about it on her laptop that somehow has its fans on full-blast at all times, curious as to what it’s like— curious as to what people think about it and how they describe it and if they enjoy it or not— countless of hours of watching videos of people giving blow jobs and moaning afterwards as come spills out the sides of their lips.

Everyone has a different opinion about it.

She’s seen it all— or at least, she’s tried to, being self-conscious about a noisy computer never helps when it’s late at night and she feels like the walls are paper-thin— practicing her techniques on her silicone toy she wipes furiously clean afterwards, hoping that she doesn’t come off as naive when the time comes to actually go down on someone. She’s read, reread, and overread everything she could get her hands on— trying to prepare herself for this ever-elusive fluid that every single person on Earth seems to have an opinion about.

Because that’s what she does, isn’t it? She reads— makes plans— lives in her head making strategies and plans and overprepares. In every single point in her life, Marinette wants to be ready and impress those around her— desperate to live up to expectations. She wants to be prepared. She doesn’t want to be left behind or considered naive for not knowing something.

Multimouse is never unprepared. Multimouse always has a plan. She always has a trick ready up her sleeve— she always has an objective that she squeaks out in Viperion’s general direction when it’s time to defeat Akumas— she always can keep ahead of the curve and be ready.

So she reads. And researches. And learns.

She hasn’t done nearly as much research for something she already has— so even though she’s looked up tutorials on how to give blow jobs, and what it’s like— she hasn’t technically gone out of her way to properly learn how to give oral to what she has between her legs. Obviously she knows how to please herself— and can use that knowledge on whoever, should they be interested— but no one’s really shown up.

She kind of… fell in love with Luka before anything else.

How could she not?

Still, though, she’d poured over all the magazines she could find about the art of pleasing someone— she’s had crushes on all different types of people, even if Luka always came first. She wants to be prepared— she doesn’t enjoy being completely blind when she tries something for the first time in front of other people. She’s not sure if it’s because of her reluctance to show weakness— maybe it’s a mouse thing, who knows— or maybe it’s a form of perfectionism.

Whatever it is— whatever it was— its accompanied her for many curious and many long hours during the nights where she’d take out her toy and please herself and find out every single pleasure point she enjoys. She’s gotten used to the solo action in her life— she’s gotten used to the signs that her body makes when she’s on the verge of orgasming— or when her body craves more.

She wants to be attentive to everything for her partner. She wants to be knowledgeable, so she doesn’t flounder— the last thing she needs is to freak out or go into something blind— she wants to be attentive and helpful and ready and educated before doing it.

Which is why all of it is a surprise to her when there’s come in her mouth because she forgot to pay attention to Luka’s signs that he was ready to come.

“Holy shit,” His lashes flutter as she relaxes her jaw again to let him slip out of her mouth safely without getting her teeth on him. He’s thicker than her toy— warmer, too— but definitely more forgiving with the back of her throat than hard silicone when she relaxed her gag reflex. It’s good to know that he’s sensitive to the way she presses softly at his thigh and his balls with her fingertips— it’s good to hear that bit of a sharp inhale he gives when she makes eye contact with him while she licks him clean at his reddened head.

She’s so happy that she was able to make him come— she almost grins at him, and then remembers that there’s come in her mouth and it’ll spill. There’s a string of it that bridges the side of her lip to the tip of his cock— she breaks it with another swipe of her tongue, still not breaking eye contact with him, giving the base of his dick a soft squeeze.

“Holy fuck.” His eyebrows start to pinch, almost like he can’t make up his mind on what to say to her. He breathes heavily regardless, peeks of his chest rising and falling underneath that wide shirt of his. “Mousey— that was good. Are you— and you’re sure you’ve never done this before?”

His praise feels like fire all over her body— she gives a little nod, looking up at him through her lashes, trying not to catch flame from how feverish she feels.

“Come on, let’s get you to spit that out in the bathroom—”

She swallows when he reaches for her wrists.

Oh.

So that’s what it tastes like.

She understands now— oh, yes— she wants so much more.

Luka’s eyes widen when all she does is blink up at him with her quaint little smile. Time seems to stop for the two of them— and while she can make so many jokes about it and how although Luka never manages to get caught off guard, given his miraculous is about intuition— he looks completely stunned, reaching for her chin and gently wedging a thumb in her mouth to peer inside. “Marinette— did you—?”

“Uhm, yeah— sorry.” She lets him pet at her tongue, even if it tickles— she’s completely pliable between his fingers. “Did you— did you not want that? Or?”

Something flickers on his face— a combination of humor— of shock— of whatever else that she can’t exactly read. “What?”

“I meant—” She can barely squeak— her voice sounds so fucked— she hides her embarrassment by pulling away from his fingers and pressing kisses up and down his shaft. He doesn’t soften in her hands like she imagined he would— she’s not sure if that’s because of stamina or just arousal, but he’s still thick in her palm. She mouths against his skin when he groans. “Did you not want me to do that?”

“Not what I meant— I just— I didn’t think you would—” He sighs, sitting back into the pouf, and— wow, isn’t that hesitation in his voice so good? He’s weak to the way she cups his balls with her palm— she feels how his muscular thighs twitch under her forearms— how addicting. All of this is so addicting. She tucks him back in his underwear with a smile and a bite of her lip when he makes an effort to still her hands with a soft grip on her wrist. “Are you going to make it a habit of keeping me on my toes?”

She tilts her head just barely to the side, trying her best not to pinch her brows together and bite her lip. “Oh. You don’t like that?”

“I love it.” He’s breathless when he laughs, filling her with excitement again. “Every time I think I’ve got ahold of your true personality, you just keep showing me up. Come here— you’ve got some left on you.”

He kisses her.

She wasn’t sure that he’d be into kissing her after he’s come in her mouth— she’s certain that she hasn’t swallowed all of it— but all he does is groan. The hand at the back of her neck is gentle— but firm— keeping her there as he licks languidly into her mouth. She fists his shirt— her other hand against his necklaces and fisting them, too— sighing when he lets her go and nips at her jaw.

“Sit on my bed, I want to take a better look at your clothes and what’s underneath.”

“But you already know what’s underneath,” But she does anyway. She bounces a bit on his mattress once she settles down, smoothing out a little wrinkle on the well-loved blanket underneath her thighs. She feels a tiny bit bashful when he slips his fingers under the hem of her kitty section tee— and tries her best not to giggle or laugh when he tickles her sides.

“You only gave me a peak,” It’s the closest thing to a frown she’ll ever see on his face, but her world is suddenly turned upside down in the literal sense when he flattens his palm right at her diaphragm and eases her onto her back. She does her best not to kick a leg when he kisses her thigh— nips at the inside of her knee— and she helps him pull up her shirt to reveal her bra that matches with her panties. She’s soaking wet from her previous orgasm, it’s true— but the way he looks at her almost makes her come on the spot again. “Oh, so you were planning this, weren’t you?”

Okay.

So it’s not the most expensive outfit out there.

She didn’t go out of her way to buy the most alluring outfit— when she’d gone to the store, she’d fought tooth and nail against Alya’s pulling hands that tried to lead her to the more sensual of outfits. Instead, she’d spent time in the more colorful section of the store— the ones with soft pinks, dark purples, even pretty reds that are just a shade too bright to be considered sexy but just fun instead.

She’d found what she’d wanted after much internal debate with herself— a matching set stamped with pretty little blue flowers. She’s not sure what flowers they are— maybe lilacs, but she’s not sure lilacs come in a blue color— she’ll honestly put down money for them being lilies, in all honesty— but either way, they’re benign and small enough to almost look like dots on the bra unless she actively pays attention to the design.

There’s a little bow in the middle, too— and it seems like his brain is starting to short circuit the more and more he looks at it, smoothing one of his hands up her side along the ribs so he can pet at the ribbon with his black fingernails.

“Is that what you were trying to check for?” She giggles.

“Intuition,” He winks. She really tries her best not to kick out when he presses his flat teeth against her stomach. His necklaces jingle as they hit against each other— and then pool onto her hip— she squirms against the cold metal resting against her skin. Oh, oh— it’s enough to make her eyes roll to the back of her head— she lets a mewl escape from her parted lips. “I just wanted to see if I was right.”

She’s not sure she has total motor control of her lips or tongue at the moment. “What if I just wanted to match?”

“Little mouse, I’ve lived my entire life with two women on this boat. Three, if you count Rose, who’s practically made her house here other than you.” He sits back up, folding her legs over his thin hips. She can feel that sculpted adonis belt underneath her thighs— such wonderful, loving muscles that she wants to hook her legs around for the rest of her life. The brow that disappears behind his bangs makes it all the more obvious that she’s been caught in the lie. “They may be Couffaines, sure— and Rose has certainly adopted the last name for herself— but I’m sure they have some things in common with other women, right?”

She purses her lips, trying not to blush, and definitely trying not to giggle when she hears him mutter the words ‘please tell me I’m right’. “But what does—”

“Rose made me sit down and told me all about it a couple of years ago.” There’s exasperation on his face, as if he’s still overwhelmed by it after all these years. “She made it very clear that people do not match their underwear, and other things, unless they’re trying to impress.”

All she can offer is a very weak ah noise, trying not to blush down to her toes.

Caught her, he had.

One of the many reasons why she hadn’t picked to go full-blown seduction— other than the fact that, in case he’d rejected her, she wouldn’t feel ashamed to look at herself in the mirror when she went back home and detransformed. She’d pulled and pulled at her hair while trying to come up with a solution, even if Mullo kept telling her that nothing would go wrong.

Playful and cute had been her choice to wear— she’s thankful she wore it.

It makes her look soft, she’s sure— instead of trying too hard. The last thing she wants is to give the impression that she’s spent days and days thinking about something obsessively, even if that’s the actual truth. Mullo was going to go crazy if she had to watch Marinette chew through her nails again.

“You’ve never shown up at my house so late before, either— you’ve stayed for a long time during the night during movies, sure— but never showed up this late. Horny little mouse, aren’t you? Showing up in the prettiest outfit I’ve fucking seen.” It should be criminal to look at her that way while slipping his fingers under the band of her panties to tease at her skin. “Poor Mousinette— all drenched with no one to take care of you like you need it. It’s a good thing you came to me, isn’t it? I’ll treat this cunt of yours so well.”

“Vai, don’t be crass—” It’s just instinctual for her to say the phrase at this point, and it makes him smile wider at the wrong nickname. Her scolding dissolves in her mouth when he presses his cock against her thigh— tilting his head to the side just enough to make it obvious he’s challenging her to make him stop while getting distracted.

The hickies on his neck glare purple and blue, almost blending into his hair as it slips partially over his face— it’s shaggy, and long, but curling just the slightest bit now that it’s air drying— so some of the hickies practically disappear. “Sorry, what was that? I couldn’t hear you.”

She hides her steaming cheeks behind her hands as pressure continues to build and build and build right between her legs at the thought of her putting them there. His neck is littered with them— she was the one to cause it. “Oh— sugarcubes—”

“Is the night turning out the way you expected it to?”

Her breath freezes when two dexterous fingers rub against her clit— a gasp escapes her open mouth. “Vai—”

“Come on,” He teases, “I want you to answer my questions for me.”

“Yes— yes—”

He hums low, a noise of approval that makes her body feel like it’s starting to cook. “Oh, good. What did you plan on doing when you got here?”

“Plan?”

“You always have a plan,” There’s something in his eyes when she meets them again. “And I’m sure you had one when you got here, didn’t you? What did you want to happen tonight?”

She gapes, trying her best to focus while he rolls her clit between his fingers. She takes a pause just long enough that she has to wait a bit to remember what the question even is, and she punches out her words out of her mouth before all she can do is whine and cry. “Oh— I— uhm— I came here to— to tell you the truth, Luka.”

“Did you?”

“And— and other things,” She tacks on when his teasing gaze refuses to leave hers. Is he actually going to interrogate her while doing this? Oh— the thought alone makes her feet twitch. “Maybe kiss you—”

His eyes look almost liquid from how blue they are, looking at her with a soft kind of amusement, like he knows she’s not entirely telling the whole truth. “Just kiss?”

“Uhm— I—” She bites her lip. “M-maybe more.”

“More?” He tilts his head when she doesn’t answer, too busy steaming and blushing red. Something in his gaze darkens as he licks at one of his canines. “You can tell me, little mouse, can’t you? Just like you did before you sucked my dick like you were born for it?”

She’s prey.

He’s toying with her like she’s prey.

The thought makes her suck in a breath so quickly that it hurts— trying her best not to mewl in excitement and jitters.

Yes. Yes. Yes yes yes.

“I wanted more than just to kiss. Much— much more. I wanted to continue— with you? I wanted to continue what we’d done in the closet— uhm— just like we promised.”

His face softens, like he’s realized what he’s doing— like he’s afraid to continue treating her like that. Such a boyish look on his face as she looks up at him from beneath her eyelashes— god— she doesn’t know which version of Luka she likes the most. “Good. How long did it take you to cave?”

“Cave? I don’t understand—”

His voice feels like a fever on her skin from how it buffs and soothes her with its rumbliness— he kisses the inside of her knee and it makes her shiver all over. “How long did it take for you to want to come back to me?”

Oh, this man just wants to hear everything, doesn’t he? He needs such wordy reassurances— it’s as if he doesn’t believe her unless she says it out loud— is that why he never understood just how desperate her crush was until she’d actually said it with all of her words in the closet?

“The moment we left the closet,” She confesses easily. He rewards her with a firm press of his thumb pad down, swirling in circles for a good moment— just enough to make the familiar coil of heat stir heavy— bringing her to the edge, but not enough to get her over it. She stiffens at the sensation— grits her teeth to stop herself from crying out from how delirious it feels when he slows back down. “Vai— please, I— I need—”

“‘The moment we left the closet’, huh? Thank fucking god I’m not the only one— I was about to start an Akuma myself on the Liberty if I didn’t see you again soon.” The smile that pulls at his lips is enough to remind him that he has the ability to mouth and teeth at her skin— so he drops his head back down, and nips at all of the skin available to him. She gasps at the pain that starts to blossom on her stomach— her ribs— her diaphragm. “Pull you into my room and ignore anything Hawkmoth attempted to throw at me, just to keep that perfect little ass of yours to myself.”

“Oh—” She gasps, sucking in a breath. “Oh my—”

“That’s it. Keep making those perfect little noises and you’ll get your first treat.”

She pinches her eyes shut enough to see white stars behind her eyelids.

“Take off your bra for me.”

“What?” She snaps open her eyes, sounding a little breathless.

“Please?” He smiles slowly at her. “I want you to undress yourself for me.”

She scrambles to hook her hands behind her back. The clasp is simple to take off— but she can’t do much of actually taking it off because she still has her shirt on— and her miraculous is in the way, too— god damn it— so he pulls back enough so that she has enough space to slip her arms out of her bra straps and pull her band shirt off with a shimmy and a squirm. He braces a hand next to her head when she lays back down— the snake tattoo glittering blue and gold and she’s certain it’s moving against his skin. “Uhm— w-where do you want me to—”

“Leave it there.” He’s completely distracted, definitely not meeting her eyes— and soon enough, she is, too— her hands grip his damp hair as he makes quick work of the new skin presented to him. His tongue feels hot against her chest— swirling around her nipple and she cries out— he introduces his teeth, too, and it’s enough for her to actually kick out one of her legs and her eyesight to go a little crooked.

“Luka— please— oh sugarcubes—”

“You promised me you’ll get to four,” He reminds her when he pulls his lips off of her enough to respond. Her skin pebbles at the cold trail he’s left behind— chilly as he exhales against her skin. “You’ve already done one, so you have three left— is that enough for you?”

“Yes— yes— it’s enough— more than enough— please, Luka—”

“All of the pleasure you want, little mouse— whenever you want, just breathe and let go. I know you can do it— you’re so good at listening, right?”

“But I can’t—” She squirms, sucking in another breath at his reminder. “Not— not just like this— I— I need— I need more—”

It’s never enough to just have a finger there on her clit— she knows this— because she’s the one who’s spent the last six years learning every single pause and flicker of her body. She knows that it isn’t enough— and yet— and yet— she gasps when he presses down firmly again.

“Oh, I don’t know about that. Are you positive that’s true?” There’s a challenge in his voice, she recognizes it instantly— but can barely hear anything else when he moves his thumb at her clit again enough to make her entire core squeeze. He swirls and swirls and swirls— and the stars behind her eyelids are starting to warp and haze into nothing. “Such little faith in yourself. Go on, Mousey. I want you to come.”

“But—”

“Right now,” He nods, as if that was the question she was asking. “I want you to come right now.”

It’s almost a shock to her when she starts coming even before he’s finished talking.

“Oh— my—” She grips his hair harder, trying to keep herself still— trying desperately to listen to the praises that spill out of his mouth and onto her skin as he continues to suck and bite and make good work of her pallid skin and her other nipple. He uses the sides of his teeth to bite on sensitive skin, emulating his fangs when he’s suited up, and oh— it feels so good to have his teeth on her, just like she’s always imagined.

Not even fingered— but she’s so aroused by this man that she’ll do anything his man requires of her if it means he’ll continue— gasping and crying the whole way.

She keeps her voice as soft as she can, knowing that Sass and Mullo are close by and she doesn’t want to disturb them. Sass is a sweet kwami, he truly is— and she doesn’t want to upset the little snake with her noises.

But it’s hard— so difficult for her to keep her voice down when Luka seems to take that as a challenge too, nipping her hard enough for her to yelp and gasp and make noises she never knew she was capable of.

“Good job. Good job.” His voice is low and decadent when she’s done twitching and batting at his thumb to stop. He uses his clean hand to smooth her bangs back, and pet behind her ear— she’s filled with a type of ecstasy that she can’t exactly shake off. Every drag of those necklaces against her chest when he pulls on her legs for her to get closer— every single drag— makes her lashes flutter, her thighs flex, and her walls seize on empty air. “I told you that you could do it.”

She doesn’t exactly have the strength to respond, but forces herself to speak anyway, her chest heaving from her world being turned sideways. “T-two more?”

Oh, isn’t that grin of his arousing?

“Two more.”

She kisses him almost uselessly, her body feeling more liquid than ever— her tongue slow and gentle against his when he slips open his mouth. She helps him take off her panties at mach speed but also infinitely slowly— she’s not sure which direction he slings it off to, but she blinks and it’s gone from his hands— and there are fingertips ghosting against her slit, gathering as much moisture as possible, giving her some brevity on being stimulated on the clit.

A finger slips inside of her.

And it doesn’t take much for a second one to join.

There’s a bit of a squelching noise when he does it— and she steams red to the point where she can almost see it reach her toes— but she throws her head back to appreciate the view of his ceiling instead of dawdling on it too much. She feels the curve of his fingers— insistent and firm, curling to find the place that makes her sing.

Her chest heaves.

“You’re so perfect,” He groans, like he’s the one getting dragged into another building orgasm— like he’s the one experiencing an entire rewrite of everything he’s ever known about his own body. He watches her with those wide blue eyes of his, as if he can’t believe that she’s underneath him— as if he’s completely taken aback that she’s in his bed at all. “That’s it, Mousey. Fuck my fingers real good.”

This body isn’t hers— it can’t be— she isn’t this fast with going again and again. It takes her at minimum twenty minutes to get another orgasm out of herself, and she’s never gone to three before on her own, always so exhausted to keep her fingers between her legs— but Luka’s never been one to stop himself from trying over and over.

Curse of the snake miraculous, isn’t it?

She’s completely at a loss as to why it’s so easy for her to shift her hips and grind down onto his palm— something she would never do if she were in her right mind— but she can’t help it. She can’t stop herself from wanting more and more— sighing softly to the point it’s almost mute in her mouth, letting him coerce her into a third orgasm for the night.

He follows her neck with his mouth— skims her collarbones with his teeth— ribs— stomach— hips— he’s charting something with that smile of his. She’s completely liquid— a certain kind of magma underneath her skin— one that heats to the point of hurting and overflowing when his lips find the center between her legs.

The world tilts for her when she’s licked for the first time.

Oh.

Oh, no— how could she have waited for so long for this? All the articles she’s read about this had tried to explain just how wonderful the feeling is, but, honestly— nothing ever written down would’ve ever prepared her for this.

She wants more. So so so much more.

She jerks at the sensation of his tongue against her cunt, eyes wide and mouth in a perfect circle, her hair spilling down her collarbones. She can’t make up her mind on where to put her hands— but she ends up hiding her mouth behind one of her palms, the other uselessly pawing at the blanket underneath her, hopeful that she doesn’t tear something so very much loved and old. He moves one of her knees over his shoulder, meeting her eyes for the final time before forcing her to pay attention to his tongue and fingers instead.

And she does.

“Oh—” She curls in more— feeling her hard-earned stomach muscles strain in an attempt to keep her up and not flat on the bed. It almost delirious that he manages to push her back with just his palm at her collarbones— like even with her core strength she’s nothing compared to the strength in his left arm— and it burns to know that. This man could fold her— easily keep her pinned wherever he wants her— snatch her and keep her— and the thought makes her body start to prickle.

Because Luka’s strong, isn’t he?

Even with almost ten years of constant dedication to keeping Paris safe with him, Marinette’s not as strong. She’s fit and lean, sure. Loyal to her craft, making sure that she’s always prepared for the next fight. She knows self-defense— she’s gone to classes for it, has certificates and colored belts that prove that even if her miraculous powers are stripped from her, she can still defend herself.

She can easily move out of his grasp if she wants to— even with his strength, with his size, she’s mastered the art of weaseling out of people’s grasps and using their weight against them in order to getaway.

But… but it’s good to lay back and let him push her back down onto the bed with barely any use of his actual strength. It feels wonderful to have him move her and maneuver her in the way he wants like she’s completely caged in by him. Squeezing and hypnotizing her and constricting her just to eat her whole.

“Luka— please, please— oh—”

He’s everywhere, it feels like, licking hot stripes over and over and over— boxing and caging her in like she’s nothing but a tiny animal. She’s polite enough not to squirm as much as she wants to— staying as still as possible to enjoy his tongue and his mouth and his teeth and him, but the desperation is almost too much to handle. His free hand is overloading her body with touch, his palm huge against the small of her waist, or curling up to pinch at her nipple— even soothing her with a gentle pet to the ear and combing through her hair when she cries out.

There’s something a smidge feral in the way he moves his tongue against her, like he’s just as desperate as she is— he’s not gentle with her as he closes his lips around her clit and makes her moan, he’s not gentle with her as he flattens his tongue against her and she can do nothing but exhale, and he’s definitely not gentle with her when he spears his tongue into her, joining his fingers inside of her.

He’s enjoying this as much as she is, no doubt.

But. But but but.

She’s the one that ends up crying behind her hands when he scrapes the side of his teeth against her swollen clit.

She’s the one that squeaks and breaks her promise to keep quiet when there’s a particular curl to his fingers inside of her that find that spot as he pistons his fingers down to the knuckle— that type of curl that makes her breath leave her body with a gasp that is just a touch too loud to be comfortable.

She’s the one who instinctively squeezes her thighs together— putting up a genuine good fight with the strength of his arm to close all the way to his ears. He smiles, of course, nipping the inside of her thigh as punishment when she feels the strength in her legs starts to disappear and fizzle out, letting him win— hiding her face behind her hands.

She comes on his tongue.

She comes on his tongue while crying out his name.

There are tears in her eyes as she registers the fluttering of her walls, as she registers his hums of appreciation, as her body finally lets go of the coil of heat that had been desperate to rebuild and crest like the previous two orgasms hadn’t happened. Her fingers are in his hair again, somehow, and she grips him tenderly to not hurt and pull at him— but, gooseberries— it’s so much— she’s not even sure how long it takes for her to come back to reality and blink away the stars from her eyes.

He kisses the inside of her thigh. “How are you feeling, Mousey?”

“I’m—” Her eyes don’t want to focus. She doesn’t even know what she wants to look at. The ceiling? The blanket? Him? “I’m feeling fucked-out.”

That gets a laugh out of him. “Cursing twice in one night? I must be doing something right.”

He leans over her again, massive— huge— still petting at her face with an expression she can’t exactly read, given that she can barely keep her eyes open. She melts into his hand that pets at her cheek— desperate for more contact— desperate for the way he uses his thumb to massage at a pressure point at her neck. She feels floaty— not exactly there— but grounded with the way he pets at her side and collarbones and shoulder.

“That feels wonderful,” She finds herself saying, letting out a sigh.

“Breathe, Marinette,” There’s that boyish smile of his again. “Come back to me, won’t you? You’re drifting off— I don’t mind it, but, I want you here with me for just a little longer.”

If only meditation felt this good. She takes deep, hopeful breaths, trying to wrangle her brain back from the sated paradise she feels herself casting away to.

She pulls him down by the front of his shirt just when he lowers his guard.

He flattens his hips against her thighs with a muted noise, staring down at her curiously. “Hi.”

“Hi.” She wipes his lips clean with his shirt, fighting back a flushed smile, but failing miserably.

It’s a little difficult because of his necklaces— there’s a bit of a struggle— but he just watches her silently as she pouts to herself, wiping his face clean. Parts of his jaw are slick with her from when he moved his head to bite at her thigh, and she cleans that, too. His necklaces clink together softly as she moves them around so she can wipe him dry, but she’s determined to make him look more presentable.

“You promised me four,” She whispers when she’s done, cupping his cheek.

He takes a good, long look at her, like he’s trying to figure out what’s going on in her head. If only he knew that there’s nothing but him. Has been for a long, long time— just him him him. “You’re not overwhelmed?”

She tilts her head enough to the side to make it apparent she’s confused. “Do you want me to be overwhelmed?”

“No, no. You’re just looking the most relaxed I’ve ever seen you, Mousey.”

“You’re always so good at doing that to me,” She murmurs, her eyes batting slowly from how lethargic she feels. “You always make me feel so calm. And wanted.”

“I’ve always wanted you. Ever since we first met.” He moves his lips in a way that indicates he’s thinking about it. “I feel like I’m going to end up breaking you if we keep going.”

A whine rips out of her throat when he shifts, trying to pull away from her and settle down next to her instead. “No— no— stay, Luka— come on— I still want more— please stay—”

“I’m not leaving you, you cuddly little mouse,” He laughs into her neck when she pulls him down more with all the strength available to her. It’s hard for her, because she feels like she has no bones left in her body— and Luka still is so massive, and much stronger than her if he really wanted to fight off her grasp, but in the end, she’s able to keep him exactly where she wants him. His erection is stiff against her thigh as she wraps her legs and arms around him, smushing her face into his shoulder, hugging him like she’s trying to cling to him like a full-body pillow. “It’s okay. I’m just trying to not crush you. Are you always this cute?”

“I— I have no idea. I’ve never had someone to hold after coming— pillows, sure, but it’s a little depressing after thinking about nothing except you or Vai or both when doing it.” She mumbles into his shirt when he finally settles back down and she wins the proverbial wrestling match to keep him right where he is.

He makes a noise that makes it obvious he’s interested. “Vai? Both?”

“Make fun of me, I dare you— I now know that you love the mouse suit, and I will use that against you the next time there’s an Akuma.” She attempts a frown, but it comes out more of a sigh, and she just sinks with it, nuzzling into him when all he does is laugh and laugh at her weak threat. “Mmmm. I never knew I could get so handsy and grabby—”

“And cuddly.”

“And cuddly during sex,” She smiles, giggling into his collarbone. “I hope it doesn’t bother you.”

“Are you kidding? Absolutely not.” He kisses her face to prove his point. Cheeks, the closest ear, her temples— her forehead under her bangs, too— he kisses everything. “Nothing you could ever do would bother me. You’re the love of my life, Mousinette— you have absolutely no idea how long I’ve wanted to cuddle up into you like this. And, god— Marinette— not to even mention how long I’ve wanted to taste you.”

She blushes when he cups her face with his giant hands on either cheek. “Oh— don’t say that after you’ve been between my legs, Luka— I don’t want to go shy again just as soon as I’ve started being brave.”

He pulls back just enough to look at her, but not enough to pull away and make her whine again. He looks cute with all those stars in his eyes. “Hm? What do you mean?”

“That last orgasm knocked a few self-conscious thoughts out of my head,” She giggles. “I’m feeling very brave now.”

There’s a challenge glinting in his eyes again. “Are you?”

She demonstrates by pulling up his shirt to take it off of him. He follows easily, his eyes greedy as he watches her pull by the hem. She’s quick to duck when they almost bump their foreheads together— him caging her in, matching her by only having his necklaces hanging off his chest. “Your pants, too. Take them off?”

“I like this bossy version of you,” He nips at her wrist when she curls a finger through his damp hair. He doesn’t want to get up, it seems, because he shimmies around, pulling down his sweatpants and trying to kick them off along with his underwear and socks. She attaches herself to his shoulders when he’s done wrestling himself out of the fabric, also completely naked.

She’s thankful that the porthole’s curtains are closed. But it’s too far in the back of her mind as she feels his sturdy weight on her. They’re skin-to-skin, shoulder-to-shoulder, and chest-to-chest. Wonderful and smooth and comforting— his weight feels absolutely perfect against her.

“Am I crushing you?”

“Do you have your weight on your arms?”

“I might,” He kisses her face. She feels the way his thighs clench in order to stop himself from humping her side— she can’t help the way she sighs into his ear and traces his back with her nails. “The last thing I need is to snap your ribs in because of my weight.”

“You’re not going to hurt me, Luka.” She sighs contently, watching him drop his clothes onto the floor with one of his arms. “I’m capable of not dying, thank you very much.”

“I know that— it’s just— I really did take it the wrong way, Mousey. I really didn’t think you liked me at all as Viperion.” He hums. There’s a certain kind of sweetness to his face. “I know that it isn’t true anymore.”

“Obviously.”

“Obviously.” He repeats. “But I don’t want to give you the impression that I’m scary.”

“I am most definitely not scared of you.” She shifts enough for him to hiss and groan. Oh, this poor man— if she wrapped her hand around him, how many times would it take for her to pump him before he’s spilling once more?

“Okay, okay— hold on, hold it. I need to get a condom right now or else I’m going to jizz— if I reach over to get it, will you let me go or will you make more cute noises again?” Something about his eyes gets a little clearer when he watches her open her mouth to stop him. “Holy shit.”

“Well,” She begins, but has to pause because she ducks her head, a bit embarrassed.

“How— what in the— oh, fucking hell, Mousey.” He laughs. “How long have you been planning on fucking me?”

“You’re cursing again,” She manages to pout.

“Marinette,” He’s exasperated. “You can’t expect me to— at least let me curse one more time— you’re not pulling any punches tonight. Let me react earnestly.”

She taps her chin in thought. “Hmm.”

“Unscripted, at least.” He combs his fingers through his hair— once again, Luka looks completely stunned. It’s hard to see Luka completely out of his element— he always has an air of humility that always translates to him feeling calm and collected in front of other people.

Except right now, of course.

“Fine, fine. One more.” She lifts up a finger as she giggles. “Any more than that and I’m biting you.”

“Okay. What in the absolute fuck.” He laughs hard enough to shake his shoulders. “What other tricks do you have up your sleeves?”

“I do not have any sleeves on, so I do not have any more tricks,” She grins.

“You better not. I don’t think my heart would be able to handle it— knowing that the girl of my dreams is just one-upping me in everything. I should’ve known better than to fall in love with a girl who plays mental chess for fun— is this why you have perfect grades?”

She scrunches her nose at him. “You are so mean, Vai!”

“Little nerd,” He teases, pausing enough to smile adoringly at her. “I love hearing you call me Vai.”

“It sounds like you’re making me say it on purpose,” She grumbles, pursing her lips into a little pout.

“Okay. Answer this question: how long have you been wanting to fu— uh— I mean—” He watches her arm fall back onto her chest as she narrows her eyes at him, uncurling her hands from the flick she was going to give him to his arm if he finished cursing. “How long have you been on birth control?”

“I’ve been wanting to get on it for a long time as a precaution— but I’ve only had my implant for two years, so…” She’s feeling a little bit bolder when he just shakes his head, muttering to himself about how she’s always three steps ahead of him. She’s full of laughter and charm when he kisses her cheekbone. “You don’t need a condom, if you don’t want to.”

“You’d let me have that choice?”

She nods her head hard enough for it to hurt. “Whatever you want to do, Luka.”

He looks at her.

Really looks at her.

She has no idea what’s going on in that head of his, whatever he’s thinking or planning— all he does is continue to blink at her slowly, like he’s trying to give her a chance to chicken out. She continues staring back, looking just as confident, smoothing her palms down his biceps that have her trapped on either side of the bed.

He kisses her again.

It’s not a deep one— just a kiss that’s cheeky enough that she complains when he pulls away so quickly— and it’s enough to get his body to start working, apparently, because he slips his hands under his bed for a shoebox that stores what looks like to be a bunch of condoms, and smiles at her in a way that makes her heart stutter.

“Flip over,” He says, having made his decision.

She somehow manages to almost trip over her legs as she flips over, trying to face the other way— even though she’s not even standing— and Luka snickers when her ankles make a clicking noise when they hit each other and she groans from the pain.

She hears the wrapping of the condom slide open. “Don’t hurt yourself, Mousey, as much as I want to just stare at that ass of yours—”

She glares back at him with a warning. “Luka, you promised!”

“Ass doesn’t count as a curse word, I’m calling it now— don’t— don’t kick me. I’m not as tough-skinned as you think— I will cry. You have thighs for days, and I have seen it with my own eyes how you have kickboxed your way out of Akumas trying to grab you.” He laughs. “Besides, like I was saying: give me a second, you horny little mouse— and try not to hurt yourself while I’m busy putting this on.”

“I’m not trying to hurt myself,” She sighs, letting her hair fall over her shoulders and coat the sides of her vision like a curtain when she looks back to the headboard with a little humming noise. She wants to watch him— but she also wants to feel it like a surprise— she’s on the fence of what she wants to pick. “I think I’m a little too excited.”

“I am, too.” He kisses her shoulder.

It’s so easy for him to start slipping his way into her.

She’s never had sex before, it’s true, but it’s easy for him to slide in from how wet she is. She’s soaking— her inner thighs are sticky from how humid she is and how strands of her come bridge between her soft thighs— and she’s always had the help and use of a toy to keep her company when the yearning got too difficult to bear, so it’s not like she doesn’t know how to adjust.

“Good?”

There’s barely any need for him to pause and let her relax, because she’s perfectly fine and content— her walls stretching with barely any pain when he slowly fills her to the brim.

So she shifts her hips and pushes back into him, all the way down to the base, much to his worry. It’s a tight fit, even with how wet she is— but that makes it all the more enjoyable as her core squeezes and squeezes, stinging from how stretched she feels.

He moans.

“Oh, gooseberries— this feels good—” She makes a noise when he presses the heel of his palm onto the center of her spine, curling it for her and raising her hips up to meet with his. The angle feels weird, now— his cock pressing up against her in a certain way that she’s never done before with a toy— she feels fuller. Much, much fuller— now this has some pain to it. “Oh! Oh! What in the— how did—”

“You look hotter with your ass up and curled spine, Mousey— I mean, that’s just my preference. That’s better, too, isn’t it?” He groans, keeping one hand at the small of her waist to keep him anchored as he snaps his hips against her.

“Yes, yes— much better. Holy sugarcubes.”

It’s hard to keep her sighs of appreciation in when all he does is continuously snap his hips over and over into hers, making it feel like she’s punching out her breaths with every lineup with their hips. She feels like a whirlwind— completely flexible and totally boneless as he fills her again and again, hitting the back of her thighs with the front of his. It’s an easy position for them to fall into a simple rhythm— and the two of them being partners for so long in their lives, it’s not hard for the two of them to figure out how to get each other off and how to take it.

She’s in love with the way he moves his hips.

But…

“You don’t have to be so gentle,” She manages to gasp out when he just barely meets her ass with his hips.

“Yes I do.”

“Vai,” She groans. “Stop being scared and fuck me like you want to— I promise I won’t break. Get as aggressive as you want. Please.”

The next snap of his hips has a bit of actual strength behind it.

Their skin meets with a hard slap that is so lewd— so obviously disgustingly hot that she would’ve burst into flames at the noise— but instead all she does is sink further into the blanket underneath her. Her knees ache from this position— being forced to stay the way she is as Luka uses his weight against her, but she can’t flatten herself on the bed because she’s busy snaking a hand around her front and rubbing herself with her fingers.

She manages to cup one of her breasts, teasing and plucking at herself to the point where she finds herself curling her toes. She sounds desperate, because she is— threading her fingers with his hand that supports him as he fucks and fucks.

It’s delicious.

Oh, it’s so delicious.

“You are going to be the death of me,” He groans against her shoulder.

“That’s not part of the plan,” She breathes out, and she’s happy that it pulls out a breathless laugh from him.

The hand at her hip travels to her clit and starts to roll it between the pad of his fingers. She makes a need, filthy noise, nearly losing all of her strength at her knees right there and almost folding herself in— instead, she lets go of her breast to fist at the blanket underneath her as she’s taken to the edge for the final time tonight.

She’s so close.

She’s so, so close.

“Luka—”

“I don’t— I don’t want to come— before you do,” He answers the question she wasn’t asking. “But I’m still a lot closer than I should be.”

“You can come whenever you want—” She can’t finish her sentence because he flattens her shoulders against the bed with his chest.

“Not a chance.”

“Vai—”

“Not happening,” He laughs. The proceeding slap of skin is enough for her to start seeing stars. “I’m going to— retain some upper hand against you— you little minx.”

He slows down— and she’s close enough that it almost makes her growl at the back of her throat, feeling her inch so closely to the edge and not get anywhere close to it. Instead she groans, desperate, feeling unsatisfied even as he continues to swirl his fingertips against her. “Please, please— stop teasing me— I’m so close, Luka—”

“I want you to come like this.”

“What?” No— no— not this again— she’s not prepared to come like this— “Luka—”

“You can do it, can’t you?” He kisses her shoulder. “Come. Right now, Mousey. You can do it.”

And she just— she just— oh, gooseberries— the coil in her snaps.

Of course he goes back to his brutal pace when she’s finally coming.

She’s exhausted, him still pounding away— him still worrying her skin between his flat teeth, sucking in blacks and blues all over her shoulder without a care in the world— him still somehow swirling his pointer finger over and over and over against her clit.

She’s fried.

She’s completely and totally gone, her body flooding over and over with heat and pleasure, feeling like she’s finished an Akuma battle— her walls squeeze to the point it must be pleasurable for him, because Luka loses the tempo he’s kept in his head.

“That’s it. Good— good.” He groans against her skin when she cups his giant hand with hers, trying to pull his hand away from such sensitive flesh. “Thank fucking god.”

She has enough energy left in her to jokingly nip him on the wrist, scolding him for cursing like she’d promised she would— but squeaks when his hips stutter and he makes a noise that’ll keep her awake for the rest of her life, and he’s— oh. He’s coming.

He groans low and hard enough to make her eyelids flutter— she can feel him twitch, and pulse, and she’s a tiny little bit upset at not being able to feel him leaking between her legs, but the kisses and teeth against her neck and his weight against her back are relieving enough.

Maybe the next time she’ll be brave enough to ask him— but until then— all she does is flatten her hips down on the bed while he tosses the condom away and groans into the blanket when he comes back to wipe her clean of residue and stickiness, and latches onto him for cuddles the moment he has his guard down, not letting him resurface from his burrow of a bed for the rest of the night.

He’s so thankful that he manhandled her octopus-like cuddling body under the covers with him last night.

She’s sound asleep, curled into his shoulder, completely gone and completely useless against him in bed. He feels floaty, and wistful— fuck— three orgasms in one night isn’t something he’s done in a long time. Had he known that Marinette was going to show up the night before, he wouldn’t have wasted his time masturbating in the shower.

Had he known that she’d come over, he would’ve at least gotten his bedroom ready. There are no laundry piles in his room, thank god— but he’s not sure when the last time he’d washed his blanket. Or sheets. At least pushed the amps against the wall instead of the middle of the room like he has it— well. It’s too late now.

There’s a poem just nagging at him to be written down, so he’s slapped his hand around next to the box he uses as a nightstand for one of his journals and a spare pen, scribbling away against the lined sheets of paper as he looks at her while she sleeps.

He hides his face into his notebook when he pauses for more than a second to think about last night.

God. Jesus.

He’s a complete and total sap of a person.

An entire sap.

But nothing that he’s writing down in his notebook even remotely fits his vision of what he wants the song to look like— he’s simultaneously frustrated and full of ideas. Every word that he writes down is from the heart, but nothing he writes is anything good enough whenever he looks back down to Marinette sleeping.

The rhythm of the poem isn’t right— and it’s bothering him that he can’t get it down. He thinks about it for a couple of minutes, letting sunlight filter in through his closed curtains, listening to how quiet the Liberty is for the few moments longer before Juleka, Rose, and his mother come back.

He’s so thankful Marinette is under the blankets with him.

She’s covered up— he’s begrudgingly put a shirt on the both of them— given her underwear back even though, honestly, if she wanted to be naked with just a shirt on, he’d beg for it for the rest of his time— including all of the second chances he would have to keep doing for the rest of his life during Akumas.

This is all just in case Rose was to burst through the door, which is a strong possibility.

The plus side is that it’s one of his shirts, and it’s so large on her that the necklines nearly falls over one of her shoulders if she doesn’t adjust it every so often. He can see all of the hickeys he’s given her against her neck and shoulder every time the shirt slips— she’s an entire canvas of it. The downside is that he wishes he could keep her naked for as long as she wants to be— but knowing his household, the answer is a firm no.

Unless she’s willing to deal with his mom barging in on them both with no regard for privacy.

Unless she’s willing to deal with Rose barging in on them both with no regard for boundaries.

Juleka’s fine. But she’d have to open the door if she wanted to communicate with him, so long as it isn’t through text message— but at least it isn’t because of lack of boundaries.

Still though. He’s so thankful that there’s a lock in the bathroom. His mother is a riot. And doesn’t seem to understand that teenage boys— and now young adult men— have urges.

He has no idea where she went last night— somehow his sister had genuinely been able to convince her to disappear from the Liberty. He owes Juleka about a quarter-million favors, now, and it worries him on how she’ll cash it in— but looking back down at Marinette and how she fists his necklaces on his chest in her palm as she sleeps— he’s so sappy he feels like the smile on his face won’t ever come off.

He watches her doze a little longer, and shifts the bangs out of her eyes. Marinette is a cuddler— and latched onto him for warmth and snuggles throughout the entire night. His heart feels swollen in his chest the more and more he thinks about her desperation for heat and warmth and him— to the point where he’s apprehensive to even keep the notebook and pen in his hands in favor of going back to sleep with her.

She’s so cuddly.

And cute.

In the end, he loses against Marinette, even if she has no idea she’d been trying to convince him in the first place. He drops the notebook off onto the pouf next to him, and makes sure to tuck his shoebox of condoms back far underneath his bed before his mother bursts in on the two of them and makes him— not to mention Marinette— feel scandalized. He hides under the covers with her, shimmying back down and making sure that she doesn’t accidentally choke him with such a powerful grip on the silver cords he has around his neck— and tucks her head under his chin.

He tries not to groan when he hears his mother yell out his name and tell him and ‘ the lassie’ to wake up before she pulls the covers off of the two of them because she needs help moving stuff out of the deck.

AO3 | Chapter One Link | Chapter Two Link | You Are Here!

[heartofsnark]

Rent-Free (Johnny Silverhand/OC Female V)

Notes; IVE BEEN ENABLED AGAIN!!!!!! AHHHHH BLAME @rosyibby, but uh, yeah basically given how much we talk about Johnny living rent free in V’s head, it made me think of paying rent through other means...*cue the cheesy porn music* Additionally, this does technically go along with my previous Johnny Silverhand fic, but like they’re not so intertwined that you won’t get it. It’s porn, you’ll catch on. Thanks for all the love on my previous nasty Johnny porn. 

Word Count: 2334

Warnings: Oral, Cunnilingus, Unprotected Sex (hologram fucking has perks), Vaginal Sex, Kissing, Johnny being gross, Dirty Talk, I’m lowkey still insecure on writing dirty talk, so hopefully this isn’t bad, also yeah game still isn’t out so he’s prob ooc to some degree

Hot water rushes from the shower head, relaxing Aidan’s aching muscles. Silence around her as she works shampoo into her hair, a welcomed moment of peace in her life, something that’s been so absent since this mess has begun. It’s late, around four in the morning, she just finished a smuggling run with Jackie. Things went south as they often do, her entire body aches from the shootout, but they got out alive and that’s all that matters.  

She works and lather soap into her skin, feeling the roughness of scars gathered contrasting against the soft give of her body. Aidan squeezes her own breast, feeling the heat and tingle of pleasure from her own groping fingers. She starts to move her other hand further down between her thighs, wanting to take advantage of the moment of calm. 

“You pent up again?” 

“God damn it!” She yells out when Johnny’s voice rings through her head, nearly slipping in her own shower. And he laughs at her as he always does, she quickly finishes washing, before stepping out. 

Johnny is leaning against the bathroom wall, arms crossed in front of him as he watched Aidan walk past, no shame in the way his dark brown eyes drag across her naked frame. Weeks have passed since their little…interaction when she tried to find a hookup. The encounter wasn’t brought up again, Aidan refusing to acknowledge it. 

And she still doesn’t acknowledge it, the weird sexual tension that’s been created between her and the ghost in her head. 

“Don’t rush on my account,” Johnny says as she quickly dries off and throws on an overside shirt along with a pair of shorts. She’ll just get to sleep as soon as possible, ignore the dampening heat in her core. 

“You’re the actual worst, you know that?” She grumbles as she leaves the bathroom, making a beeline for her bedroom. Hopefully, none of Johnny’s memories or brain weirdness will come through her dreams, she needs some peace. 

“Yeah, yeah, you’ve told me a billion times, well, that is when you weren’t screaming my name or thinking about riding my-“ 

“Shut the fuck up!” She yells out, her neighbors must think she’s crazy, but she can’t help but scream at him as she flops back on her bed. 

Aidan can feel his gaze on her, looking up to see Johnny standing at the foot of her bed, looking down at her. The position reminds her of that night, him watching her getting fucked, the heat in her core rises again. There’s a lazy calmness in the way he looks her over , no hurry or fervor, just taking her in. His eyes hovering around the plush of her thighs, moving up to where her shirt has ridden up, revealing an expanse of her soft stomach. 

“Seriously,” she starts to speak again, hoping her words can cool the heat gathering between her thighs, “you’re like the worlds shittiest roommate.” 

“Am I?” 

“Yes, you really fucking are. You have no boundaries, you do nothing but annoy me, I can’t rid of you, hell, at least a roommate might pay rent.” 

“Oh, you need me to pay rent? Sure, just let me get my wallet,” Johnny says, reaching into his pocket just to pull out his middle finger.

“Cute.” She rolls her eyes, of course he’s going to be a shit about it. 

“Cute enough for you to throw your panties at.” 

“Shut up! Just shut up!” 

He lets out a low chuckle, resonating deep in his chest, the sound stoke the flames in her center just that much more. Why is he so fucking attractive? Then she feels it, a hand grabbing at her shin, the rough callouses of his right hand. 

“You really want me to start contributing something?” There’s a teasing tone to his voice. 

“I mean, I know you can’t, but you could at least stop irritating me.” 

“Eh, don’t think I can, but I can think of something I can do that might make you a little less tense,” he says, hand skimming further up her leg. 

“Seriously, offering sex in place of rent, you watch that much porn?” 

“C’mon, Samurai, we’re way past the point of you pretending you don’t wanna fuck me, don’t you think?” 

And he’s probably right. 

“I’m definitely right.” 

“You know reading my mind is not attractive, right?” 

“Yet, you still find me attractive, funny how that works.” 

“Fine, fine,” she covers her face with her arm, cheeks burning red, “I wanna fuck you, happy?” 

“I mean, wasn’t exactly a secret, but it’s nice hearing you admit it.” 

“Shut up and touch me.” 

And then he’s over her, knees on her mattress on either side of her hips, hands grabbing the bottom of her shirt. He’s quick and rough as he yanks it off over her head, throwing it across the room. She barely has a moment to take in the cool air from her chest being exposed before he’s groping and touching her, the contrast between the smooth cold metal of his left hand and the warm calloused fingers on his right makes her whimper, arching her back to meet his touch.  The feeling of his thumbs rubbing over her nipples draws another gasp from her throat and then the heat of his mouth connects to her chest. 

“Fuck,” she curses as he works harsh kisses down her body, his touch is hungry and passionate, but most importantly of all completely unpredictable. 

There’s no patterns to where he kisses; whether it’s her collarbones, the plush of her breasts, her ribs, or her stomach. No way for Aidan to know if it’ll be the press of his lips, the laving of his tongue, or the bite of his teeth. The only constant is the scratch of his beard, rubbing her tender skin raw under his touch. She tries to wrap her fingers in his hair, to wrap the dark strands around her fingers but he moves too quickly, and she only gets a brief touch of them. 

A sharp nip just above the waistband of her shorts is her only warning before he’s yanking them off of her. Rough fingers run through her slit, just a fleeting touch as Johnny gathers her slick on his fingers. 

“You’re soaked.” 

“Shut up.” 

“Don’t worry, I’ll be keeping my mouth busy,” he tells her before sucking his fingers into his mouth, licking her wet from his own skin. 

Then he’s practically bending her in half, pressing her thighs back to her chest, the force lifting her hips and ass off the bed. The position completely opens her up to him, no way to hide her cunt from his view. Before she can squirm or get embarrassed, his mouth is on her. His tongue licking through her folds, lapping up every drop of slick. He eats her out like he’s desperate for it, like he needs to drink up every gush of wet to survive, licking deep inside of her. His tongue finding every spot that will make her wetter. 

His beard rubs the lips of her sex raw, but she can’t find it in her to mind the edge of pain, when his tongue runs up to her clit. No true pattern, no way to predict how long he’ll go between sucking harshly on the bundle of the nerves to licking around it; back and forth between too much and not enough. The heat inside of her is reaching a boiling point, nearly crashing over the precipice of pleasure, but he pulls back before she can meet her end every time. She buries her fingers in his hair, finally feeling the softness of the locks, but she despite her pressing she can’t control his pace. 

And he stops. 

She whines at the loss of pleasure as he pulls away from her. Slick coats his lips and chin, shining in the moonlight that drifts into her bedroom. His looks are grossly unfair for someone who’s both dead and technically in his eighties. Oh god, she’s fucking an eighty something year old digital ghost-

He presses his lips to her and she can’t help gasp, tasting herself on his tongue. Johnny presses down on her body, so his body weight presses her thighs down against her chest, erection grinding into her pussy and her ankles practically on his shoulders. Her slick on his chin presses wetly against her, as his tongue pushes deeply into her mouth. She meets his lips and the passion of it, trying to taste Johnny through her own wet, taking in where he tastes like cigarettes.  

“Stop thinking,” he tells her as he pulls away, realizing the lip lock was to stop her train of thoughts about all the reasons this is wrong. 

“I really wish I could, sorry, but I mean…can you honestly say this isn’t fuckin’ weird?” 

“Who gives a shit?” 

“Wow, that fixed all my anxiety, thank you for you endless wealth of wisdom.” Aidan rolls her eyes. 

“So, the goal is now to fuck you hard enough your brain shuts off, got it.” 

“I wi-” she pauses when she feels his cock pressing against her thigh, smearing pre-cum on her skin, “when did you get naked?” 

“I’m a hologram, I can just do that.” 

“Wha-so when you only had your dick out last time, that was purely for effect?”  Aidan is grinning and already on the verge of laughing at the idea of Johnny being that committed to pretending he has to undo his pants. 

“I mean, kinda…” 

And she bursts out laughing, it’s just too silly and ridiculous, he’s so fucking dramatic. How could one man be so dramatic? What the fuck? Her stomach hurts with the force of her laughter. 

“Don’t laugh at me when I’m trying to fuck you.” 

She tries to stifle her laughter , biting her lip as she looks up at Johnny, he’s smiling. Not a smirk or some smug expression, just a soft little smile, as he looks down at her. The anxiety and tension that has started to creep back up have mostly subsided, humor settling her nerves. 

He grinds his cock down against her slick cunt, reminding her of what they’ve been building up too. 

“This is like…safe, right?” 

“Don’t worry, can’t knock you up or anything. I’ll just fuck you like I’m trying to.” 

Her face flushes red at his words and then he thrust his hips, sliding into her. She screams out his name, between the position and her own slick, he hits deep inside of her, no resistance as her body takes him in. He doesn’t tease or hold back, his entire length pressing into her, filling her completely. 

“Fuck, I knew you’d be tight, but god damn, feel like I’m break you open.” 

“Ah, uhhh, don’t say weird shit.” 

Johnny’s thrusts are punishing and harsh, brutal in the snap of his hips and she wishes she could hear the wet slap of their bodies connecting over and over again. 

“What, don’t wanna hear about how your cunt is choking my dick.” 

“Mnnnn….” All she can respond with is a whine. 

“Don’t wanna hear about how I’m gonna fill you up, how I’m gonna make you leak my cum.” 

“Johnny…” 

He’s pounding into her, each thrust and stroke of his cock inside of her building up the heat inside of her, tightening the tension in her core. The head of his dick hits deeply, harshly fucking against the sensitive spot deep inside of her. Slick keeps her able to take it all, despite the roughness and the size of him, each slam of him into her making more gush out. She can feel her own wet dripping down her the curve of her ass.

“Gonna rearrange your fuckin’ guts, make sure you fit me and no one else.” His voice is tight with a slight growl, movements speeding up. 

And while a part of her knows it’s dramatic, just bedroom talk if his dick was in her organs, they’d have some issues. But, she swears he’s doing exactly that. Carving out his place inside of her, a place only meant for him, so deep inside of her she can feel it in her throat. Stroking the embers of a fire that only he can turn into an inferno.

When that inferno of pleasure builds too high, the tension within her snaps, the bubble burst, and she’s crying out incomprehensibly as she cums on his cock. Everything whites out, mind empty as her body is overridden with pleasure, cunt clenching around him and body squirming as he keeps fucking her through her orgasm. 

“Holy fuck, you’re gonna milk me dry, fuck!” 

And he cums inside of her, hot and warm, flooding her with it. Heavy thick spurts of white coating her insides until it’s too much for her body to hold in, dripping out where the two connect. Her body is still twitching and squirming as she works through her aftershocks, once she’s a little more in touch with reality, she wonders whether his cum on her sheets will need cleaning. 

He pulls out of her and even more of it spills out, Aidan whimpers between the loss of him inside of her and the mess on her thighs. Johnny rolls over to lay next to her, it still astounds her just how real he feels, his body heat next to her own. 

She wants to lay on him, she realizes, a desire to lay her head on his chest. Aidan isn’t seriously considering cuddling with him, is she losing her mind? 

“Just ask for what you want, dumbass.” 

He wraps an arm around her sweaty shoulder and tugs her in against him, her cheeks reddening as she hides her face in his chest. There’s a lot she could mull over, a lot to think about, but with her eyelids growing heavier…it’s best to leave it alone for the night, to take Johnny’s advice for once and stop thinking so much. 

[miceandmonsters]

Male Orc x Female Character

FWB to Friends to Lovers; nerd/jock; multi-chapter

Sometimes the first is not the worst, not even a little bit. ; 2.2k

Part 1 

Part 2

If the digital clock on the bank was accurate, Ruban was in deep shit. Admittedly, he didn’t know Nikki particularly well outside of class. But someone who graduated with a 4.3 GPA didn’t seem like the kind of person who tolerated lateness in anyone, and especially not in good-looking athletes who semi-seduced her into tutoring them. ...Not that there were many out there with enough balls– or perhaps stupidity– to try that particular move.

Ruban tore into the parking lot of her apartment complex, killing the engine on his motorcycle, and taking the stairs three at a time up to the third floor. It was a rundown complex, tired and aged, but always full up with how close it was to campus. 

He was running so fast that he nearly sprinted right past her unit, till he caught himself and knocked twice on the door. The momentary pause gave him a chance to catch his breath before the door opened. Yeah, as expected, Nikki didn’t look too happy.

“I know I’m late, but I have a good reason,” Ruban said quickly. She just lifted an eyebrow in reply. “Practice ran long, and I figured you didn’t want me smelling like… anyway, I’m clean and I’m here and I’m sorry.”

Her face softened, and she stepped back to let him in. “Just text me if you need to reschedule next time.”

“I will remember that. I promise.”

The apartment was tiny, but looked like a catalogue showroom. There was a cleanly crisp scented candle burning on the coffee table, a fluffy blanket folded neatly over the couch arm. The books on the shelves were alphabetized. Did she always live like this? ...Knowing Nikki Williams, yes. Yes, she did.

“I figured that we could work in here,” she said, meandering to the kitchen attached to the living space. “Table’s better than a couch.”

He nodded. “Usually.” Dropping his backpack next to a chair, he looked down at her. “Should we… get started?”

“Might as well.”

“Cool.” Enthusiastically, he caught her chin with his fingers and dipped down to kiss her--

But she made a surprised noise and pulled back, eyes wide. “What are you doing?”

His eyebrows flickered together. “We already talked about this? You know, the… arrangement?” Great, now he sounded like someone out of those soaps his great aunt watched.

“Yes, but…” She glanced around as if someone could be hiding in her postage stamp of a kitchen. “I didn’t think you were actually serious.”

“Oh, I’m always serious,” he joked, a grin teasing his lips. It dimmed when a new idea crossed his mind. “Do you want this?”

“Do you want this?” she asked back.

Ohh. He paused and actually gave it a few seconds of thought. Eventually, he decided that there was something deeply hot about seeing a woman like Nikki flustered and on the verge of blushing like she was right then. “Yeah, definitely.”

The blush actually spread across her cheeks now. Cute. “Okay,” she breathed. She nodded once and squared up her shoulders, a confident and straight-forward look in her eye. Determination was all nice and good, but he really wanted to see how flustered he could make her. How far down did that blush really go?

So instead of going for that kiss she was obviously angling her head for, his hands drifted to her hips. She was thrown slightly off rhythm and let him guide her backwards, step by step, till she was leaning against the kitchen counter. 

“Counter’s better than a table,” he said, grinning slightly again.

“Usually,” she replied, picking up on his joke, but her words still wobbling slightly.

There was something in the anticipation, the fact that they both knew what was about to happen, that was nearly intoxicating. He’d barely touched her and already he could see her pupils expand to consume the warm brown of her eyes.

She was wearing a light blue dress with a skirt that fluttered about her thighs. He caught the hem between his fingers, just toying with it slightly. “This dress is nice…” 

“Thanks,” she whispered back. 

He held her gaze as he slowly pulled the hem up, brushing fingertips over her thigh. She inhaled as he brushed over the soft lace of her underwear and then slid his hand between her legs. Her eyes closed and her head tilted back as he stroked her through the thin fabric, hips slightly moving to match his rhythm. He was wrong before. This, being able to watch her slow surrender, was intoxicating. Keeping the same pace, he trailed up over her underwear and then slipped underneath. Her skin was so soft. She whimpered as one of his fingers dipped between her folds--she was already wet. “Damn Nikki,” he breathed, feeling a little affected himself.

“Nicole. I…” Her eyes opened and locked with his. “I go by Nicole now–why am I saying this when you have your finger practically inside me?”

He laughed softly, enjoying the way she gripped his arm as he found her clit. “Too much?” he asked before he stroked directly again. But she quickly shook her head. “So, why the change, Nicole?” he asked, conversationally, as he circled her.

“I, uh… Ah… I thought it sounded… more… more mature,” she answered, her voice gone breathy.

“That sounds about right. Suppose Dr. Nicole is more respectable than Dr. Nikki. Sounds like a daytime television host.” He dipped his finger back to her growing wet before returning to her clit.

“Ye–yeah… that’s…” She shuddered and gripped both of his arms now. “Fuck–that’s the idea.”

“So you are going to go for your doctorate?”

“S-someda–” She blinked and seemed to realize what had just been happening. “Why are you asking me this right now?”

“Because it’s fun watching you try to concentrate while I finger you.” Her response was cut off into a groan as he slid one finger inside her. Fuck, she was going to feel amazing. But then he withdrew, making her clench around him and whine. “Turn around,” he said in a low, gravelly voice. Her eyes went wide, but she did as she was told. He shrugged off his leather jacket and then ran his palms over her shoulders, down her arms. “Hands on the counter, yeah, like that. You still want it?” he asked, mostly just to hear her ask for it again.

“Yes,” she groaned, head leaning back against his shoulder. Now, finally, he kissed her, deep and greedy, as his hand returned to her center. He started with just one finger, rocking and stroking, then added a second to grasp and press against her front wall, grinding his palm against her clit. Her knees quickly started wobbling so he wrapped his free arm around her, holding her up and against him. Every wordless groan or gritted swear fell from her lips shot straight down to his cock–he was really starting to regret the choice to wear jeans to this meeting. 

However, it wasn’t very long before she found a handhold at his neck and melted in his arms. No doubt he now sported four little half-moon indents, but he really didn’t mind at all. As he’d hoped, she was deeply sexy now that she was flushed and panting.

“Should… shouldn’t we study first?” was her first question when she’d put herself back together enough to ask.

He chuckled, tracing his tusk along her shoulder. “I’ve always been a dessert first sort of orc. And I’m not sure how well I can concentrate now.” To prove his point, he pressed his bulge against her ass, making her moan and shudder. Excellent. He kissed up her neck, nipping her ear lobe before asking, “Want some more?”

“Yes, please.”

He scooped her off her feet and sat her on the counter. She had a delighted little smile on her face as he reached under her skirt to pull off her underwear and toss them aside. “Don’t think you’ll be needing those.”

“Definitely not–oh.” Her whole core clenched and shuddered as he cupped her center while brushing his lips along her jaw. He’d intended to just tease her, but she grabbed his head and pulled him in for a demanding kiss that somehow just made him harder than he was before. 

It took a little fumbling to find the buttons on the front of her dress without stopping the kiss, but he was successful enough to expose her bra. It was the same ivory lace as her underwear. Ah, so she hadn’t actually thought he wasn’t serious… or she hadn’t wanted to run the risk of her being unready if he was serious, which sounded more like her. 

He stepped back to just look at her, breathless and the least put-together he’d ever seen her. “Damn Nikki–shit, Nicole. I’ll be better at that when I don’t have a hard-on.”

“It’s okay.” Still holding his gaze, she ran her hands over her breasts, squeezing slightly. Damn Nicole. Condom, he needed a condom now. He stepped away and snagged one from his backpack. She looked a little concerned when he turned back around and held up his trophy.

“Don’t worry. I’m not going anywhere, baby,” he promised, unzipping his pants finally. Her eyes on him could probably melt steel, which only made him take his time. However, he couldn’t stop his groan of relief as he freed his cock and then stroked himself a few times, thoroughly enjoying watching her squirm.

“Would you just get over here and fuck me already?” she demanded, looking about two seconds from tackling him to the ground. 

Grinning, he opened the condom with his teeth and rolled it on as he sauntered back towards her. She was so eager, but he really wanted to enjoy the anticipation. Rarely was a first time this good. So he just ran his cock between her folds, teasing her clit as she whimpered and mewled.

“For fuck’s sake–” she said right before she grabbed him by the ass and pulled him close enough for him to partially slip inside. They both moaned, and it was a moment before he could see straight. She was every bit as amazing as he’d thought she’d be.

“Fuck, Nic– A little warning might be–” He stopped as she started rocking her hips against him. Oh, he could watch her literally fuck herself with his cock all night–but she was going to leave him in the dust if he didn’t get moving. 

He pulled her to the edge of the counter and matched her rhythm, deep and thorough. It wasn’t artful, but damn if it wasn’t satisfying. He left long kisses down her neck, trailing down to run his tongue over her pert nipples under the lace of her bra. Carefully, he tilted the angle of his hips and was rewarded with a loud, “There!” from Nicole. He sped up, desperately wanting to see her fall apart again.

Her grip on his upper arms tightened again, eight more half-moons, the only warning he got before she shattered. A stuttered version of his name came from her lips, right before he pulled her tight to him and gave her a bruising kiss. Her pulsing around him nearly finished him off, he just– Chasing her to the edge, he picked her up with ease, bouncing her on his cock for the last few thrusts and following her over. The world whited out as he held her tightly, jerking with each wave. 

A minute– maybe, he honestly wasn’t exactly sure– later, he carefully put her back on the counter. The kitchen was filled with just the sounds of their panting as they both tried to catch their breath. He tossed the condom in the trash and zipped back up his jeans. Damn, he’d just had time-alteringly good sex with Nikki Williams. High school Ruban would have said that he was a dirty liar. Hell, three days ago Ruban would have said he was a dirty liar. But there she was, leaning back against her cabinets, a little bit sweaty, and looking like she’d just seen a god. 

She swallowed then looked over at him and asked, “Are you up to graphing polynomials? Or have you finished that unit already?”

His smug grin died. “I… you were thinking about polynomials while we were having sex?”

She nibbled on the corner of her thumbnail. “No. Just we’re done and it’s the next thing,” she answered, obviously half in thought. Then she looked his way and suddenly seemed to catch up to the conversation they were actually having. “I wasn’t--I mean, this was good. Really, really good. I promise. You were--” She made an ok sign, then quickly amended it to a thumbs up, before dropping her head in her hand. “Fuck, I’m sorry.”

He shrugged a shoulder and batted a hand against her knee. “Hey, it’s okay… your brain just… doesn’t ever stop, huh?”

She lifted her head to shake it. “No.”

“Doesn’t that make it hard to like… chill?”

“Exceedingly.”

Suddenly, everything he knew about her made a lot more sense. “That explains a lot, actually. But yeah, we’re on polynomials now.”

A blinding smile spread across her face. “Great, I’m good at those. Let me go grab my graphing calculator.” Nicole hopped off the counter and dashed out of the kitchen. 

Ruban smiled as he realized she’d left her underwear behind.

Masterlist

Part 3 - Coming soon!

[obscureoperations]

ok feel free to delete this if you aren't into blood play cuz I know its not everyone's cup of tea

but.

I was thinking about a scenario where Martin agrees to be tormented when he's gotten really hungry. tie him up, make sure he knows the rules, establish a safe word. basically the scenario involves teasing Martin with your own blood and making it so he can't get to it to drink, but also pushing and teasing him about the fact you're bleeding and he's hungry and all he really has to do is safe word and he can drink. but he's a good boy, so he won't. and you know he won't.

(of course this involves a lot of trust and intermittent check ins to make sure he is truly okay in the moment which brings out the intimacy here (yes. intimate blood play. it makes sense leave me alone))

telling him to keep his eyes on the cut in your finger as it drips blood down onto his chest. not letting him look away. reminding him how hungry he must be and telling him to not struggle and keep his eyes on you.

by the end of the scene hes crying and in a real deep headspace. ignoring his most important need. for you. all because you told him to.

(of course afterwards he gets taken care of all sweet n stuff :) )

I'm actually not opposed.. not at all! I love the detail.. and I really tried to do this justice to no avail. This is one of the premises that I can see myself coming back to. Trying to turn it from word vomit into an actual story!

Stray tears continue to trickle past his hairline, seeping into the thousand thread count pillow..Cheeks burning with shame.. Martin’s eyes remain fixated on the ceiling--the thin jagged crack that starts at the fan all the way to the far corner of your room. He felt heavy, nearly saturated with guilt the moment you began to ‘take care of him’. Your fingers gripped his thighs with an almost otherworldly force, as you pin his slight hips to the bed. Questions of who he belonged to.. What was his name… why exactly should he be apologizing.

Martin was still at you kept him tethered to the edge of delirium. Lips moving over his flesh in a way that reminded him that you still cared-- Teeth gently nipping at his neck tongue laving over his racing pulse. His mouth was dry, the gnawing sensation in the pit of his stomach was almost unbearable. The coppery scent was unmistakable, it curled at his nostrils causing him to swoon. The smell was unique, almost spicy-- everything about it was decidedly you. He would catch glimpses of the heady aroma when you would accidentally nick yourself preparing dinner. Or that one time when you fell off your bike skinning your knee.

His hands were numb, wrists tied to the bedposts, he had no idea where you managed to acquire the rope. His legs were extended towards the edge of the bed, slightly parted ankles tethered to the bed. Luckily for him, you decided to spare him some dignity. He was completely bare save for his shorts. Mouth sized bruises adorn his collar, chest and ribs-- all ranging in various colors. Pools of blood began to dry and stick to his skin, he could feel them tighten under the breeze. He was shivering, eyes fixated on the laceration on your arm--he prayed you didn't press in too deep.

~

He could still taste the tears streaming down your cheeks the moment he crawled in through the window. You were shaking, struggling to contain your sobs.The look on your face practically broke his heart.

“Martin… where were you?”

He momentarily seemed to lose the ability to speak. His eyes remained glued to your angelic face. The tears flowed freely. He never knew you to display any emotion beyond very mild annoyance-- You were shivering, arms wrapped around yourself protectively-- this was something completely new. He messed up.

“Y/n… I’m so sorry..”

~

“Why not me?”

You had asked him that question every single time. You knew all about his sickness, his actual need for blood. You knew that he couldn’t go to a hospital...he would be locked up forever-- Then why not you?

He claimed that you were far too precious to him. If he ever hurt you “He would die”

This was far worse, he had been doing so well-- You were on the verge of full blown panic whenever you could hear police sirens in the distance.

Martin knew what he was doing, he was quick on his feet, there was very little reason you should fear for his safety. But still, what if he messed up and made a mistake. You would never forgive yourself if something happened to him.

So he agreed. If anything to regain your trust-- and hopefully make amends. The safe word was “silk” ; he could use it at any time when things became too much. He wasn’t allowed to drink from you until you explicitly tell him it’s okay.

He had no idea what he was getting into, he nearly used the word the moment you picked up the blade.You winced ever so slightly as the steel pierced your skin--the ropes were the only thing stopping him from wrapping you in his arms. You didn’t have to hurt yourself for him. The blood began to pool down your arm, he wanted to scream. You seem almost mesmerized for a moment yourself as the crimson rivulets begin to drip down your wrist. His eyes remain transfixed, his face grows hot--the stabbing pain in his stomach causing him to wince. “Yn..p-please be careful” he whispers. Was that a warning or a request?

A smile tugs at the corners of your lips as you poise your arm over his chest-- squeezing gently as a few droplets land against his skin. He hisses sharply, eyes immediately screw shut-- white hot electricity surged up his spine. Every nerve ending set on edge as the coppery scent hits his nostrils

~

You take your time, painting red washed lines across his chest as his fingers helplessly grasp at the bed posts. He was panting, clearly tenting in his shorts, but he still refused to look at you.

“Martin, open your eyes..”

He shakes his head, images swirling through his mind. He saw mobs chasing him through the city. Torches blazing as he scrambles down cobblestone stairs. He saw the woman on the train laying practically lifeless. He saw the image of you from one of his dreams.

~

The two of you had very nearly broken up--but that was towards the beginning of your relationship. You knew that Martin had nightmares--this was when you first began to discover the depth of his sickness. It started with him talking in his sleep, waking up in tears unaware of his surroundings. It only got worse till one day you woke up in the middle of the night to find him locked in the bathroom sobbing uncontrollably. You begged and pleaded for over an hour for him to just open the door. He refused, he was so scared that he might have hurt you. As it turns out he dreamed that he had actually killed you. It all started from accidentally tasting a stray droplet of your blood. In fact, it was a few days after he had patched up your thumb after your run in with the kitchen knife.

Better than he ever imagined, the taste alone sparked something inside of him. He was so worried that one day he might not be able to contain himself. He was so scared that he might hurt you. You noticed his somber demeanor, but the pieces didn’t click until you found him in the midst of a literal breakdown. You didn’t care, you wanted him with you for the rest of your life. You were certain you could show him how to be good.

~

“Martin.. It’s okay… please look at me darling”

After a moment, he opens his eyes. Damp lashes cling to porcelain cheeks-- you only wanted to hold him. His gaze gradually moves from your face to the tips of your bloodied fingers, still glistening in the light. His stomach turns, threatening to collapse in on itself as he resumes tugging at the restraints.

“Y/n.. p-please.. We--ah.. We shouldn’t do this…”

Do what… sweetheart?” You coo, painting a crimson line just beneath his lips. In that moment you could have sworn his eyes shone brighter, almost amber under the lamplight. The force of his thrashing causes the bed posts to creak.. Groaning heavily beneath the pressure.

No no no… this was not a good idea everything about you smelled so warm and inviting.

He tries his best to school his face into a pleading expression, tongue darting over cracked lips.

“You should-- just clean up, and untie me.. I feel so much better now. “

“Untie you?” you snort as you trace your fingers over his lips, as he fruitlessly attempts to tilt his head. You can feel him tense as a strange sort of shiver rolls through him.

“And then what are you going to do…”

Tears begin to freely flow down his cheeks as he shakes his head. “N-nothing.. I swear..”

“I know this Martin.. You’re not going to hurt me.. You never would.”

His chest heaves, you could have sworn you feel some of the tension leave his body.

“No.. never!”

“Are you hungry darling?”

“Y-yess” There was something about the raw unfiltered need in his voice that caused something inside to ignite. You were familiar with it sure-- it wasn’t rare that you had him nearly slipping off the bed.

But this was different.

You only wanted to cure him of his nightmares, but in that moment you feared you were making everything worse. You just wanted to show Martin that you trusted him completely. You knew he wouldn’t hurt you even if he tried.

With a shaky hand, he draws your fingers to his lips, keeping the blood stained digits poised directly over his mouth. His breath came out in heated puffs, reminding you of this old rottweiler that used to be chained up in your neighbor’s yard.

You couldn't help but smile to yourself as you weave your fingers through his hair--noting as he leans into your hand. Breath ghosting along your palm--the tip of his nose brushing over the hardened bits of blood. You can feel him inhale deeply, as another shiver shoots through his slight frame. His teeth digs into his bottom lip as he relishes in the brief bits of attention. You continue to whisper to him words of affirmation. Thanking him for behaving so sweetly.

There was always one small vein on his forehead that always seemed more pronounced whenever he was in pain. Martin had migraines, so you saw it alot. He refused to take medicine, in fear that it might “make him loopy” His cheeks were flushed, brows furrowed in agony-- you couldn’t help the sudden pang of guilt. You already knew that Martin would never hurt you… why on earth did you think this was a good idea?

In a haste you reach for the razor, digging it into the palm of your hand. You begin to squeeze at your wrist, urging the blood to flow. You lean in, pressing a kiss against his temple as drops of blood coats your fingertips. You press one of your stained fingers to his mouth

“Martin… drink..”

He shook his head almost violently, pressing his cheek against the pillow. The motion left a bloody streak across his face. He could feel the droplets hardening by the second, his teeth immediately sink into his bottom lip. You were perched atop of him, knees resting against each side of his hips-- you sink down just a bit further. He lets out an audible gasp as your hips rock against his clothed erection-- droplets of blood pool into the dips of his collarbone.

He wanted to die… he truly wanted to die. There was no way that this could possibly be okay. Why would you want him to drink from you? You were so much more than one of his victims, you were his entire life. He valued your livelihood so much more than his own.

He failed to realise he was staring off into space, until your fingertips began to ghost along his jawline

“Sweetheart, are you okay?

“Yes.”

“Do you want me to stop?” you sink back further onto your knees. The sudden bout of friction causes him to shiver.

“Plea- No.. y/n. Don’t stop..”

After a moment, he slowly reaches for your hand, you press your palm directly against his lips. You can still feel the rumbles emanating from his ribs, arms tugging fruitlessly at the restraints. Stray droplets of blood adorn his chest, the crimson stream begins to drip past his cheeks. He was panting, even as you press your fingers through the crack of his lips. Breath seemed to still within his chest.

Tears continued to spill down his cheeks, seeping down into his hairline. Had you actually “broken” your boyfriend? What was wrong? Surely he wasn’t this repulsed by your blood alone.

“Martin.. I’m so sorry..” You whisper suddenly, his eyes remain fixed upon the ceiling, the crimson rivulets drip past his firmly closed lips.

You continue to weave your fingers through his hair, as his lips slowly part beneath your hand.

Tugging as you whisper against his ear. “ Darling.. Please drink..”

[op-peccatori]

per sempre tuo (M) | IkeVamp Leonardo

Fandom: Ikemen Vampire

Pairing: Leonardo da Vinci/Fem!Reader 

Rating: Explicit/18+/NSFW

Word Count: 4400

Summary: Your lover has many different sides, and you adore every single one of them.

per sempre tuo: forever yours

a/n: Finally. This is just some unnecessarily long fluffy smut to cope with finishing his route. Yes, I did listen to Italian music for this and yes, I did cry at some of the lyrics. I recommend the first 2 (A Te and Magnolia) if you wanna give it a listen~ AND, for Thirst Purposes, I’ve installed a reading nook in Leonardo’s room.

I had a tough time with the title, trying to pick which was more appropriate, per sempre tuo or tuo per sempre, but I went with the former...

(warnings/tags under the cut)

Warnings/Tags: explicit sexual content, vaginal sex, no plot, extreme cheesiness, some minor spoilers for Leo’s route

You’re not sure what wakes you–the gentle thrum of the rain outside the windows, or the familiar, sweet scent wafting over to you.

Slipping out from underneath the comforting mantle of slumber, you shiver and curl up sleepily.  

Or maybe it was the cold, the hint of autumn chill brushing warm skin as you turn over with a groan to find your usual bedmate missing. With a quick search of the disorderly room, you blink at the way your head throbs and squint at Leonardo. He’s curled up in his little reading nook, with the window cracked open, and you watch as he–cigarillo held between sanguine smudged fingers–sucks in a mouthful of smoke. It spills from his lips in slow, curling wisps after a few seconds. 

Further inspection reveals a notebook resting on his lap, an unbuttoned shirt, and chestnut strands pulled back into a short, messy ponytail that does unfair things to your libido. You don’t sit up just yet, content to let your eyes run over him as you try to recall the events of last night. 

Dinner had, as always, been a warm, chaotic affair. You remember being unable–and unwilling because it had been a while since you had indulged–to turn down Comte’s offer of wine. You remember the slow buzz creeping through your veins as you laughed at Arthur and Theo’s bickering, the droopy look on Sebastian’s face as it snuck up on him too, and the endearing flush on Isaac’s cheeks, unsure if it was wine-induced or if it was the result of Dazai’s teasing. 

A flush fills your own cheeks as you remember Leonardo’s warm gaze and soft lips, telling you to have fun as he left to have a quick chat with his old friend.

You remember accepting another glassful of the beverage, and you remember Sebas walking you to your room–which doesn’t explain why you’re in Leonardo’s bed instead of your own. It’s a bit like staring into murky water, trying to identify what lurks beneath the surface, and it slipping away just when you’re on the verge of discovery.

You refocus on his still figure.

Leonardo is, at his core, a man of action. With an eager mind, hands that itch to reach for something or the other–a book, drawing tools, things to repair, and ever since you came into his life, you. 

Jack of all trades, master of nearly all. 

Watching him at any time is fascinating; it’s hard to take your eyes off of him, you’re always eager to watch him in motion. And then there are the times where he’s quiet.

You hadn’t realized it at first, but it’s clearer right now as you observe him silently. He’s more subdued when it rains. It had been different when the two of you had been caught out in that sudden shower, but even now, the restlessness seems to have withdrawn, leaving placidity in its wake. 

He loves his naps, but the way he’s curled up next to the window, listless, eyes unfocused–he looks almost lonely. 

“Buongiorno.” Your startled gaze meets his, the cool gold of his eyes heating as they catch you staring. He turns his head to face you, his upturned mouth and the little crinkles in the corner of his eyes sending warmth fluttering through you even from across the room. “Slept well?” 

“Mm, I think so.” A yawn catches you off guard, quickly covered up by the back of your hand. You stretch languidly, feeling your muscles release, before you sit up, reaching for the top of your head to pat down flyaways. Your dress from the previous day is draped over the back of a chair, prompting a quick startled glance down at your body. You’re in one of Leonardo’s shirts; with a grateful sigh, you reach for the glass of water he somehow managed to make space for on his crowded bedside table. “I feel like I did.”

With the way he perks up, you wonder if he’s been waiting for you to wake up and play with him. The thought amuses you for a moment; sometimes, he really does act like a cat. You meet his eyes again, and he looks curious, putting out his cigarillo in a little ashtray on the windowsill. He’s always curious about what’s going through your head. 

“I hope you do. You were out cold,” Leonardo replies after a moment’s pause, before something sly crawls into his tone, the mischief glittering in his eyes putting you on guard. “I’d say you slept like the dead, but your snoring could’ve actually woken them up instead.” 

You barely avoid choking on the cool drink, gulping down a mouthful of it as you glare at him as dangerously as you can. It only serves to widen his smile. 

“Lies.”

“Nope. It was cute, though. I like it when you snore.” 

“When I-how often do I do it?” Your voice is shriller than you would like, and he, being the infuriating man that he is, starts laughing. 

“No need to get so worked up, cara mia,” he soothes, closing his notebook and placing it on a shelf behind him. He reaches for a damp cloth, wiping his hands clean, and closes the window.  “Come here, you look cold over there.” He looks colder. 

“I am cold,” you mumble, embarrassment still hot on your skin, but you can’t resist his beckoning fingers and climb out of bed quickly, the hem of his shirt falling to the middle of your bare thighs. Picking your way across the room as deftly as you can, a low hiss escapes you as you end up stepping on what looks like a puzzle piece. 

He reaches for you with a sheepish smile, gathering you up in his arms before settling back against the wall, reaching down to rub the sole of your foot tenderly. 

“Sorry about that,” he murmurs, his calm voice warm, raspy gravel, reaching down to the very depths of you; wrapped up in his embrace, his heat seeping through the layers of cloth between your skin, you can’t help but melt into him with a soft hum. With your head cradled against his chest, you peer out the window. The skies are a solemn grey, but the flowers are there to make up for it, looking brighter in the light shower as they reach toward the heavy clouds.

You mull over his words for a moment, worry filling your heart, pressing your lips to the side of his neck before tilting your head back to look at him. “Is that why you were awake? You couldn’t sleep because of me?” 

At your words, he looks close to laughter, the corners of his lips quirked, but he fails miserably and presses it to your scrunched up brow. “I’ve slept through a lot worse, so no.” 

You study his expression for a moment longer, gauging the sincerity in his eyes, before you nod. Wondering what kind of stories are behind those soft words. “Oh. Also, did I pass out at the dining table? Because I don’t remember getting back to your room…”

“No, you didn’t. Last I saw you there, you were wide awake, and I don’t think I’ve ever heard you laugh that loudly. But by the time I got back, you’d already gone up to your room. ” Confusion creeps in, and Leonardo chases it away with a swift peck to your scrunched nose. “We should get you drunk more often.”  

You think back to dinner, and while it’s all a bit blurry you do remember having fun.

“So, I didn’t do anything embarrassing?” His fingers skim down your arm to tangle with your fingers, bringing them up so he can press his lips to the back of your hand. 

“Hmm. I think we have different opinions on what makes something ‘embarrassing’.” You stare at him until he grins again, sudden and wicked. “Don’t you remember singing for us?”

You resist the urge to jump out the window. “Oh no.”

“It was lovely,” he insists, chuckling when you swat him. 

“I can barely sing when I’m sober, and my drunken version has been likened to the screeching of a cat.”

“I don’t agree at all. I enjoyed it quite a bit.” 

“Of course you enjoyed it.” Feeling quite faint from the force of your despair, you attempt to escape his hold only for him to tighten it, pressing you back into him. You pull, he pushes. He pulls, you push. Your brief tussle ends with you sitting back against his chest, curled up between his legs, and a shiver running up your spine when you feel his lips on your neck.

“I did. Let’s see–I loved how free you looked, the way your hair escaped your neat little braid, the way you throw your head back when your laughter seizes you. The way you smiled at me, with your flushed cheeks and smiling eyes, reaching for me as if you never wish to be parted from me again. I loved it all.” His breath falls hotly on your skin and you’re frozen in his embrace, your heart holding onto every word that rolls off his silver tongue. “There was just one little problem.”

Your first attempt to speak dies in your throat. You wet your lips and try again, eyes sliding shut as he presses a burning, open-mouthed kiss beneath your jaw. “What was it?” 

Leonardo hums, lips forging a path up to your ear. “I wasn’t the only one to see all of that.” 

Fingers trace the jut of your collarbone, slow and inquisitive, as you work through the implications of his words. “I doubt anyone would see it the way you do.” 

“In this, cuore mio, you’re completely wrong. Not only do they see what I do, they covet. They envy. I don’t blame them for it, you’re a blessing one can only dream to have, but it still…” 

“But still?” 

He nips at the shell of your ear, hand smoothing across your abdomen, and your breath grows heavy. 

“It makes a part of me want to hide you away, away from their longing eyes. I would never do that, but a man still feels the need to stake his claim, yeah?” His hand dips under your shirt, tracing incomprehensible patterns on your skin, the calloused pads of his fingers skimming the skin beneath your breasts. “The entire time I was speaking with ‘Comte’ I was thinking of what beautiful side of you would be revealed next.” 

Your next words are carried on a breathless whisper.

“What did you do?” And you feel the way his lips, pressed to your temple, curl up. “What happened after that?” 

“Heh. Nothing.” He bites at the plump flesh of your cheek, light and playful even as his hand drifts up to cup one breast. Something is lodged in your throat and it feels like it might be your heart. “You did all the work for me.” 

It must’ve been something embarrassing, because you know the way he tugs at a nipple, rolling it between nimble fingers, is more of a distraction. The knowledge doesn’t stop your stomach from clenching with anticipation. “What did I do?”

“Nothing as bad as you’re imagining. I went looking for you, you see,” Leonardo licks up the length of your neck, kissing his way across your skin. Your fingers dig into the firm flesh of his thigh, holding onto the cloth as he sucks red, blooming marks. “But you weren’t in your room. Gave me quite a fright. I found you soon enough, though; stumbling through the halls, trying to find your way to your darling Leo’s room.” 

“I don’t remember that at all…”

His other hand cups your sex, heel pressing in with purpose as your head tips back, lips parting. “Don’t think anybody’s ever been that happy to see me. It was quite a kiss. Did I mention I had a few of the others looking for you too?” 

Leonardo’s palm slips further down, caressing the soft skin of your inner thigh, his cheek brushing yours when you try to look at him. He helps you turn around, leaving you kneeling between his legs, his fingers brushing your cheeks before he cups them and pulls you into a sweet kiss. The taste of his thin cigar spills rich on your tongue, the proof of his arousal brushing against your knee, but he seems content to just kiss you, tongue curling around yours, making a satisfied little sound low in his throat.

Desire burns low in your belly and you pull away with a gasp, forehead dipping to press against his.

With eyes dancing with fervour, he doesn’t look so lonely anymore. You worry, sometimes, that you won’t be able to reach him, that your worlds are too different. He’s a living legend who seems so out of everyone’s league it’s almost funny. 

But he’s also Leo: easygoing and warm, when all he wants is to curl up in your arms, to kiss you, and run his hands all over you, a dragon curling and rubbing itself all over its greatest treasure. When he just soaks up every bit of affection you offer him like a starving sponge.

The flat of his palm meets the soft flesh of your rear with a low smack, pulling you out of your musing. 

“I think that’s really e-embarrassing.” 

Such a demanding old cat, you think. Always wanting to hoard your attention. You should save that one; he gets, quite subtly, but adorably huffy when you say that. You’ve seen his quiet, simmering anger over the big things, but it brings you an odd sort of joy when he gets playfully mad at you over the little things. When instead of shrugging it off, he pouts until you’ve peppered enough kisses all over his face. 

He pinches your stinging flesh.

“Don’t agree. Story’s not over, though. So, then I brought you back here, but you decided to be a bad girl and torture your helpless compagno.” His hands slip up your shirt to cup your breasts, your back arching when his thumbs brush over tightening nipples.

“I’m not sure h-helpless is a word I would ever use to de-describe you.” Desire begins to pool between your legs, your head dropping back when he rolls the peaks between his forefingers and thumbs. You slip the shirt over your head, much to his approval and he doesn’t hesitate before leaning in for a taste, his next words spoken into your skin.

“No, you wouldn’t, would you? But when the love of your life kisses you so sweetly, tasting like rich wine, with her hand on your cock–” He sucks a taut nipple into his mouth, working his mouth roughly as you moan and weave trembling fingers through his hair. “And you have to tuck her into bed because she’s drunk, and spend the rest of the night trying to think of the most disgusting things you’ve seen in your life? One can only wonder what circle of hell invented this.” 

“I-“ your skin burns at the thought of you trying to drunkenly seduce him, and you sit back on your heels with ears burning hotly. “I’m sorry.” 

“Me too. You put up a real tough fight, nearly convinced me…the places my mind went…” Leonardo sighs and slips a leg between your thighs, laughing when you squirm at the firm muscle of his thigh pressing into your sex. “Yeah? You wanna know?” 

“Did I really do that?” It comes to you in one single sentence, and the memory of Leonardo’s body pinned beneath you. 

“I just want to feel you. Please?”

Strong hands grip your hips and pull you forward, the friction robbing you of all coherence for a second. “I very nearly prayed.” 

You can’t help but laugh at that, planting soft kisses on both his cheeks, reaching for the collar of his shirt to pull him closer. “I’m really sorry.”

“Mm.” The pleased possessiveness in his eyes always takes your breath away, and the way he sighs and relaxes at your touch makes your heart thump in delight. It always ends up this way; a quiet moment spent with hands running over warm skin, the muscles of his chest firm under your fingers, your spine stretching as his palm slides along the length of it. “I’ll allow you to make up for it.”

“Yeah?” Your lips brush over his, and you breathe in the sweet scent lingering in his breath. Your hand slides down his solid abdomen, coming to rest on the waistband of his pants. “What do you need me to do?” 

With a small hum, his darkened eyes fixated on yours, clever fingers brush your breasts, your sex, and in a move that makes your breath hitch in your throat, they wander over to your rear, between plump flesh–and you immediately consider if what you’ll need is available or if you’ll have to run down to the kitchen. 

Leonardo kisses his way across your cheek, soft and sweet, lips warming your ear. “Smile for me.”

You blink as he pulls back to grin boyishly at you, feeling your brow twitch as your head drops to his shoulder. “You make me feel like a horny pervert.”

“Aren’t you?”

The sound you make is childish, near whiny in tone as you attempt to jump off his lap and flee to the safety of his bed. An admirable attempt, but one that is foiled right away by his arms wrapping around you. “Hey, don’t run from me.” 

“Leave me to my shame, Leo.” He pulls you close, chest pressing to chest, and your lips quiver at the feeling of your breasts against his muscle, and the way he tries to look stern but his affection just softens it until you want to eat him up. 

“You’re so pretty, Leo. Sometimes I wanna just eat you up.”

Dear Lord. Drunk you is shameless. 

“No shame in wanting your lover, cara mia,” Leonardo coos, tucking a strand of your hair behind your ear. “I want you just as badly, in every single way, all the time. Il mio cuore è tutto per te,” he murmurs, pulling your hips down to meet his, your mouth watering at the hard ridge of his erection. 

“I don’t see you making a fool of yourself,” you breathe, rolling your hips into his, thrill unfurling within you when he growls throatily. 

“If you saw what goes on in my head, you would run.” His voice is a power unto itself, growing deeper, going straight to your pussy. You reach for the fly of his pants, unbuttoning it swiftly and tugging at them until he lifts his hips with a thick chuckle. 

“Never. I’m far braver than that, and much too in love,” you declare, yanking the fabric down his thighs, taking a moment to admire the thick muscle defining them. 

“And you say I’m the smooth talker.” You crawl up the length of his long legs, his keen eyes raking over you, swaying breasts calling his hands to them like fleshy magnets. “Come to me, cara mia. I’ve been waiting too long to get my hands on you.” 

The head of his hard cock pokes at your thigh when you settle over his lap, his legs spread out. It begins to leak with a few pumps from you, and your eyes flit between the beads of his precome and the way his lashes flutter with each movement of your hand. 

“I don’t think I can wait too long,” he groans. “I was hard most of the night. Wanted you so bad.” 

“Sorry, baby.” You press your lips to his chastely, again and again until his other hand comes up to cradle the back of your head, keeping you there. Rough fingers reach your entrance, collecting drops of your arousal before pushing in. A wicked grin stretches across your mouth, matching his own. 

“Ah, I don’t think you’re up for waiting either.” Shuffling on your knees, you guide the head of his cock to your entrance, slack-jawed as you sink onto it. 

“...Fuck, Leo.” 

Leonardo draws you into another kiss, teeth sinking into your lip when you clench him tightly. His hands squeeze your thighs and, in a display of strength that honest to god has your pussy fluttering, he lifts onto his knees with ease, your legs coming to wrap around his hips. With his tongue still licking into your mouth, he pulls you half off his cock before jerking you back down and slamming his hips into yours. He swallows every moan, every cry, every wrecked sound that climbs up your throat. 

“You feel so good, cara mia. So perfect. And you’re all mine,” he growls into your skin, his thrusts relentless, intent on taking you apart. He presses you back into the bookshelf, and your heart pounds in your chest when he adjusts his grip on your thighs, pushing them back and hooking your calves over his broad shoulders.

The next, merciless slide of his length into you has your eyes rolling back. It’s only in this, when it comes to sex and your pleasure that Leonardo can push you in different, filthy ways until you’re left shaking. Your voice climbs in pitch with every rough thrust, your hands scrambling for purchase on a shelf behind you. 

“There, oh, there, please, k-keep doing that,” you sob, blinking back tears as you look up at him pleadingly, burning hotter at the sharp, consuming desire you see. He presses what feels like impossibly closer, the burning in your thighs strong but the drag of his skin against your bundle of nerves overwhelming. 

“Come for me, ___,” he groans, a wicked smile ghosting across his lips, allowing you a glimpse of fanged teeth and you see stars. Your back arches, head thumping against wood; your walls clamp down, and a hiss leaves his lips as you break in his arms. He slows his pace, fucking you through it, lips chasing away the tears spilling over. 

Forehead pressed to his shoulder, chest heaving, mind and body more jelly than flesh–his cock is still heavy in you, and an involuntary whimper sounds deep in your throat when you look up at him. He kisses you gently.

And with all his gentle affection, he pulls you off of his length and sets you down in front of the window, back arched and ass out, the glass cool against your sweaty cheek. You hiss softly when he slides in again, your breath fogging up the glass, his front curled over your back. Brushing away damp strands, he plants open-mouthed kisses on the nape of your neck, your shoulders. Twining your hair around his fist, other hand steady on your hip–he angles his hips and thrusts deep. 

You had been sure you didn’t have it in you to make even the slightest noise, but your body disagrees in the form of a low keen, your aching cunt swallowing him greedily. 

“That’s my good girl,” Leonardo exhales, his pace turning swifter and harder, the sound of skin slapping against skin providing an erotic contrast to the soothing rain. “Sorry for being so greedy but…” His fingers find your swollen clit and heat coils in your belly. “...I want one more.”

Denying him, your own pleasure at that, is not something within your capacity.

He muffles a guttural groan in your skin, nearly rutting into you as you wail, loud and wanton, unravelling once more. His pace stutters and liquid heat fills you in thick spurts. You turn your head, weak but wanting, to welcome his lips on yours.

Cracking the window open once more, you curl up against his body, his heat more than enough to shield you from the cold. You brush his hair away from his face, his having slipped free in the frenzy of desire. He rubs your lower back gently, covering you with his still-warm shirt, reclining against the bookshelf; you think you almost hear him purr his contentment. 

“Wait, where’s Lumière?” You’ve seen no sign of him, and the thought relieves you a little.

“Following Sebas around, last I saw him,” he mumbles, nosing at the skin behind your ear. You’re both so sweaty, but you wonder if you can make it to Le Thermae without running into any curious residents. “Also, cara mia, there was something I wanted to ask you.” 

“Mm?”

“I talked to Comte about it, and he’s agreed so you don’t need to worry about that. If you’re okay with it, I wanted to take a little trip.” You look at him and he pokes your cheek, but there’s no missing the hopeful look in those eyes. 

“Just us?”

“Just us. I want you all to myself,” he tells you, smug smirk and cockiness, before it softens into a tiny smile. “I had some work, back in Italy. Thought I could take you, show you around since we’d have the chance. Only if you’d like to, of course.”

“I’d love to.” Your immediate response is, quite embarrassingly, teary eyes and an enthusiastic kiss. Pulling back, you raise a brow. “Only if I’d like to? You mean you wouldn’t have wrapped me up in my sleep and taken me along anyway?”

“As you cute as you look when you’re grumpy,” he laughs at the narrowing of your glittering eyes, “the journey would be far more pleasant if you’re happy, no?”

“But I’m always happy when I’m with you,” you point out, foxy smile in place. The fuzzy feeling in your heart feels close to spilling over when he hugs you closer, but you still catch the way the tips of his ears flush. He holds you close as if wanting to imprint the feeling of your body against his, to sear your love onto his heart, to inhale the scent of you and trap it in his lungs–before the day comes when he will no longer have the chance to.

You turn away from the sadness and bury your face in his chest.

“Y-yeah, well. It’s time you got to eat some of the best food in the world.”

Now is the time for love, and you plan to give him so much, to paint him in the colours of your adoration, devotion and passion–that loneliness will not dare touch him for a long, long time.

Thank you for reading~ 

Translation:

il mio cuore è tutto per te: my heart is all for you

cuore mio: my heart 

per sempre tuo: forever yours (tuo is masculine singular possessive, tua is feminine singular possessive)  

[lilyvandersteen]

The Christmas Guest Chapter 7

Author’s Note: Apparently, when I’m suffering from insomnia, I write very sleepy chapters, where Klaine take naps and drift off at a moment’s notice. Wishful thinking on my part, but I’m glad Klaine at least are getting all the sleep they need. So, enjoy some pillow talk and sleepy cuddles, I guess :-)

Read Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4 and Chapter 5, the Interlude and Chapter 6 here on Tumblr, or read the story on AO3 or FF.net.

Chapter 7: Nothing Better than the Real Thing

Kurt felt a soft warm hand caress his face and trace the contour of his body, and slowly stirred awake.

It was Blaine. Of course it was Blaine, they had been talking, but why was it so dark outside?

His muddled brain refused to work properly, but he did realize they’d have to get downstairs as soon as possible or his dad would think… Ugh, he didn’t want him to think anything like that ever.

He had meant to help Carole make dinner, but it was already done. His stepmom didn’t seem to mind, though, telling him a snowball fight and a nap after would cure that cold of his in a jiffy. And yes, he hadn’t been coughing or sniffling half as much as the day before, that was definitely true. But he’d been exhausted from the emotion more than the exercise that came before.

Kurt glanced at Blaine, who gave him a look that felt like a hug. A look that said, “Your secrets are safe with me”, and Kurt believed that was true.

As soon as they were all seated at the table, Blaine slipped his hand in Kurt’s and squeezed it lightly, the message of support more than clear, and Kurt sent him a grateful smile.

He didn’t fully cheer up until after dinner, when he got an invitation to Rachel’s New Year’s Eve party, but Finn nipped his joy about seeing his friends again in the bud by pointing out they’d all want to know everything about Blaine and how he and Kurt met.

Well. That was certainly true.

He saw Blaine’s eyes widen, his hands tremble and his color fade.

Oh, sweetie… I’ll make sure to keep you close at the party. I can bluff myself out of this. I’m good at improv. You have nothing to worry about.

But Blaine was truly rattled, and insisted on getting their story straight, so though it was still early, they both pleaded exhaustion and announced they were going to bed.

Burt fixed them with a stare. “If I let you sleep in the same bed, can I count on you behaving yourselves? No shenanigans!”

Blaine swallowed and nodded. “You have my word, sir… uhm, Burt.”

“Kurt?”

“Ugh, you’re embarrassing, Dad. But yes, I promise.”

Carole squeezed Kurt’s shoulder affectionately. “You do look beat. And no wonder, you’re still fighting against a cold. Yes, go to bed, and I’ll tell Finn to let you sleep in tomorrow. Do you need more lozenges for your throat?”

“No, I just drank about a gallon of chamomile tea, and my throat feels okay. Thanks, though. And goodnight.”

They escaped without any more comments from Burt, and Kurt slipped into his en-suite to shower and change into his pajamas, telling Blaine he could use the main bathroom in the meantime.

Sure enough, when he emerged in his bedroom again after his skincare regimen, Blaine was sitting on the bed, wearing neatly pressed pajamas and smelling like raspberries and aftershave. He was also on the verge of a panic attack, it seemed, so Kurt hastened to hug him and whisper “It will be okay.”

“Finn said…”

“I know what he said, and I’m sorry he got you so wound up. My friends are nosy, yes, but I can deal with them. We can deal with them. You’ll be fine. I’ll stay with you the whole night through, and when they’re too annoying, I’ll tell them to back off.”

Blaine didn’t look reassured. “I’d feel better if… If we had a story to tell them. About how we met.”

“All right, honey. Do you mind if I get under the duvet? I’m a bit cold.”

They both got under the covers, and Blaine wriggled until he was back in Kurt’s arms, which made Kurt smile and his heart beat a bit faster.

“So… We met at the coffee shop where you work?” Kurt suggested. “And I liked the bowtie you were wearing and complimented you on it. Oh, that is… If you… Do you wear bowties while working?”

“Sometimes, yes.”

“There you go! And you smiled at me, and I was smitten at once. You have such a lovely smile.”

“Thank you.”

Kurt continued, “So I kept coming back to your coffeeshop… Where is it, in fact? Somewhere near my school or where I live, I hope.”

“Oh, it’s near the Washington Square Park. It’s called Stumptown Coffee Roasters.”

Kurt perked up. “I’ve been there! They have the best chai lattes, I love those.”

“It’s the spices,” Blaine explained. “We make our own blend.”

“Well, brilliant. I’ve raved to Rachel about those chai lattes, so now I can tell her it wasn’t just for the drinks I went to that coffeeshop.”

“Okay. So then… what happened?”

“Hmm… We ran into each other somewhere outside the coffeeshop, and… You saved me and my quiff from a sudden rain squall by letting me shelter under your umbrella. I was so grateful I asked you out on the spot, and you said yes.”

“Oh, I like that,” said Blaine. “You’re really good at this.”

“Hours and hours of practice daydreaming. Might as well put it to good use for once.”

“So… when did this happen, exactly?” Blaine wanted to know.

“Oh, just a few weeks ago. We’ve only gone on one date so far, because you’re busy, and I’m busy. But then I went to the coffeeshop one last time before I’d be heading home to Ohio, and we got talking, as we always do, and you mentioned being all alone for Christmas, and I invited you home with me. It was a spur of the moment decision.”

Blaine laughed. “Well, that’s true enough!”

Kurt hummed in assent, and carded his fingers through Blaine’s curls, gently massaging his head. “I can be impulsive, yes. But inviting you is one of the best decisions I’ve ever made. I don’t regret it one bit.”

“Me neither.”

“Do you think we could…?”

“Keep in touch once we’re back in New York? Yes. Yes, please.”

Kurt was a bit taken aback by Blaine’s quick reaction. He’d meant to ask Blaine out on a date, but this sounded like he was being friend-zoned.

Oh. Not quite on the same wavelength, then.

Kurt took his hands away from Blaine’s hair, fake yawned and announced that he was about to fall asleep. He turned onto his side, said “Goodnight” and focused on making his breathing soft and slow and regular.

Next to him, he heard Blaine whisper “Goodnight, Kurt” and turn onto his side as well, taking away his body heat and making Kurt shiver a bit.

“Are you still cold?” Blaine asked.

“Mmm-hmm.”

Blaine shuffled closer and spooned Kurt, his presence warm and comforting, and at once Kurt felt a million times sleepier.

“Much better than a boyfriend pillow,” Kurt mumbled, tugging Blaine’s arm snugly around him.

Blaine laughed. “Nothing better than the real thing, right?”

Kurt didn’t answer. Seeing as they were only fake dating, there was no real thing. Or was there? Ugh, why had he made such a mess of things and allowed himself to catch feelings?

Behind him, he heard Blaine say “Sweet dreams”, and he felt a slight fleeting pressure on his neck. Had Blaine just kissed him?

Kurt suppressed a sigh. This was getting more and more confusing, but he hoped it would sort itself out in the end. In the meantime, he was going to imagine this was really his boyfriend spooning him in bed and keeping him toasty warm. It felt like heaven, and he was going to enjoy the experience to the fullest.

I could get used to this…