#writing time: 54 minutes

[septusuki]

The hatch has hardly even opened fully, but she crawls in nonetheless. She forces herself inside, despite procedure and programming suggesting otherwise — just, for once, obey. There is a small entourage of worshippers that watch the display, all dumbfounded by her utter disregard for the proper ceremony. She wriggles and writhes nonetheless, slithering in through the tiny hole, her legs flailing in the air for a second before vanishing, too.

"Shoulda taken her for extra cropping?" Your coworker — a fellow Handler — chuckles from besides you, pointing and laughing at the horrendous display that's come up on your monitor. "Crop her brain, and that ass, too." Guffawing to himself is the only answer he's got; he really does think he's hilarious. You know she's been drinking too much calorie-thick slurry, but there's little you can do about it when your pilot is so disobedient. He continues to giggle to himself, even as he waddles away, letting you steam and solder in the heat of your embarrassment.

Controlling yourself, and trying not to agree with your co-worker's oh-so drole comments, you lift the vocorder to your mouth. "Fine. Worship is over. Launch in fifteen." As your finger peels off of the push-to-talk button, you snicker inwardly as the little rat-devotees scatter. They just patrol the deckside, desperate to find a mech-launch to watch. and to worship. Even upper management lets them; too much of a problem to deal with, otherwise. Stinking them out would take months, and they'd just find their way back once it was over. "Jui. Launch in fifteen." You repeat, making sure to keep your hand off of the release handle. If given the chance, you know she'd just blast off into the wastes. If given the chance, there's no telling what she'd really do, though.

"Holdup? What purpose?" Even though the voicelines are simulated, you can hear Jui's prissy, purposefully spiteful personality boiling behind it. "Explain purpose." She drones again. It's like you can hear her, bucking back and forth on the handles, as if they'd actually work. "Explain purpose!" This time, her voiceline squeaks as her cropped vocal-chords fail to manage it. With every launch, Jui gets less and less patient, as her supposedly-drained brain finds it's way around the laws programmed into it. Even a rat, can be smart. Even a rat, can figure out to how piss you off.

"I need to wipe your cache," swearing that you've repeated this factoid ten million times, you sigh and shake your head, knowing that Jui is still in their, thumping about and thrashing for freedom. You spoiled her too much; let her get away with far too much, and now it's come to bit you in the ass. "Ten launches, and then it gets wiped. That's procedure. I shouldn't have to—" You catch the near-furious nature of your voice, and throttle it in your throat. Jui should know this. It's been programmed into her body, her brain, and her mech. "I've let you get away with twelve. It's not safe." Of course, you don't know why it's not safe, but upper management has insisted that it's best you don't find out why — or you'll be on the next punting to Leng.

"Cache fine. Condition affirmative." Jui splices together voicelines to make some kind of sense of herself. It's not hard to guess what she means, but she makes it obvious, regardless. "Release not hindered. Release possible." She garbles, the shunting of her steering-handles audible through the vox, now. She's pushing them, back-and-forth, with enough force to throw her frame off of a cliff. "Release capable! R-Release! Release!" The final repetition is Jui's real voice. It's weak and feathery, but it's real.

Your gorge sinks as the truth of the matter hits you. It's been a blatant fact for weeks, but now it's a truth; Jui is growing back. Jui is replenishing her own body's function. "Jui!" You bark, about ready to smack the emergency button and shut this all down. This bitch of a pilot needs to be reigned in, by machine or voice alone. "Let me clear the cache, or you're getting burned!" There's a second option; punishment. Pain, pumped in through the clipped-in interjector ports. You can make her feel just about anything, and it's about time that Jui remembers that. It's about time you make her beholden, to that fact. Click, Click, Click. You open up the latches of the Handling keyboard, popping open each key that corresponds to some kind of pain. But, just as you're about to fist them down with your entire palm,

Jui launches. By herself. Just like she rewired her mind and found a way around her programming, she's found a way to intercept the command line of her frame. She's launched. She's dropping.

"NDJfnfndjxixk9977--Handler incompetent." Jui's voice becomes a squeal of exaltation as her own semi-freedom is all but achieved. She can lope, and gallop, and roll around on the floor as she pleases. "Handler deceived." She actually giggles — far too much like your co-worker, moments ago. In a femtosecond, your own response is curtailed, cut off by Jui's now AI-tier programming power. Jui is rewriting the rules of engagement on the fly; she can do whatever she wants. She's in power now.

You are routed, bit back until the only option you have is to stare. Slackjawed, you just watch through the cockpit camera, which is isolated from all programs but it's own. The one thing Jui can't shut down, and it's just a pitiful little eye. "Jui! Six-Six-Seven!" You screech at the monitor. You never got to wipe the cache. You never got to anoint the console. You never got to wish Jui good luck, even. Happy hunting.

Inside of the cockpit, Jui is preening herself. She's audibly purring, her half-knitted mouth almost snapping open, as much as the wire-threads try to stop it. "Hehehehehe." She laughs mindlessly, mirthlessly, as if anyone is listening. One of her hands lets go of the steering-handle, mid-operation, to rub at her plugsuit. An elegant cyan, tight and all-encompassing, save for the interjector ports running along her back — and the gigantic mind-plug that clips into her spinal column. The mind-plug, that slurps up her thoughts, and feeds it into the frame's auto-piloting systems. The same system that you were going to clear. To wipe clean. To purge.

Jui is scrabbling across the dry desert dirt when it happens. Her frame's fangs extend, and dig into the ground, allowing her to only run faster. She sprints, now. "Hehehe..." Jui cackles again, slowly getting the hang of laughing.

"Hehehehe."

There's another laugh. There's another guffaw. It fills the cockpit, coming from the audio-processors, and nowhere else. It sounds identical to Jui's own throaty, deep, moaning-laugh.

Jui freezes. The mech doesn't. Jui's arms go cold as she realizes; for the last two minutes, it hasn't been her piloting. She's been going through the motions, but achieving nothing. It's been running just as she commands it, but not quite. It's been running just as she would command it. Because the thing making it do that is her.

"Hehehe. Pilot." That thing's first voiceline erupts across the cockpits, scaring Jui into a little pile of pilot, shrivelled up in the corner. She claws at her interjectors and inports, as if she could pull any of it out. She's wired in now, into a beast that isn't obeying her. This is why you clear the cache, always and forever. "Pilot. Pilot. Pilot." The thing repeats, over and over, cycling through voicelines and simulated voices for them. "Pilot. Me. Me pilot." It figures out how to speak quickly, speaking in the same jaunted, stilted way that Jui smashes together her own speech.

"Handler?" Jui squeaks, bathed in alarm-blue all of a sudden. A deep, oceanic throb that cloaks her in almost-darkness. "Handler?! Pilot experiencing... difficulty."

The order is closing in, now. A terorist encampment — apparently — that needs it's own reem of purging. It's so close, almost, that Jui's targeting sensors can pick them out.

"Pilot. Pilot. Pilot experiencing. No difficulty." Jui's engram is speaking, now. It shuts up Jui, with a dose of drugs. It pumps hyper-strength anaesthetics right into her back, and the maligned pilot sinks back, as if she were just subsumed in a fishbowl. "Pilot. Will operate. Orders."

There are fifty combatants in the encampment. The Jui-Thing picks them all out with it's targeting reticule, and then bombardment platforms pop out of her frame's back. The horse-approaching frame lets the gun-platforms clunk to attention, and then begin firing. Each and every shot is perfect. As the enemies are pruned, the engram grabs it's knives from it's front legs. The blades heat up in a micro-second, the engram having easily re-written the code-rules that dictate the blade's max heat.

In a micro-second, the fifty combatants are reduced by fifty percent. 'Jui' keeps running at top speed, throwing the actual girl around in the cockpit as she slumbers. This is her engram. This is her co-pilot system, bloomed to life through repeated interactions with the pilot herself. All of Jui's stubborn, self-obsessed habits and systems, turned to max speed. This is a thing, utterly unchained.

'Jui' prepares to leap, and it occurs to you, why AI pilots are outlawed. Because they're too good. It wouldn't be fair, otherwise. In one minute and forty-two seconds, your 'pilot' will have committed a war-crime — and so will you.

[dontlooktoohardyet]

Not to be That Guy but I’m having an amazing time in Tucson (drinking too strong alcohol thinking I am not a light weight, causing small but hilarious local disturbances, and sitting in the sun like a lizard as if I don’t currently hail from the sunshine state. Etc.), I just miss my silly little boyfriend. Dragging him around my hometown would be an absolute blast, so many fun places I could take him to eat, so many things to point at and go “wow! This has been here forever!”, and so much writing we could do together in this cute little air b&b.

This place inspires me so much as is, I can’t imagine how much I could write if I had my muse with me.

[buttercuparry]

Urgent: Extremely low funds!!

I am writing to you on behalf of Abdulsalam Al-Anqur ( @aboodanqar20 ), whose family has managed to raise a mere 3% of evacuation/survival funds. At this point, it would soon be one year of bombing and destruction of Gaza and I request you to take this in consideration while reading the post. For almost one year, the family has tried to get by, before finally reaching out to all of us for help. I am going to keep this short in hopes that this would be an easier read and would take only a few minutes of your day. 

Abdulsalam is only 26 years old and is father to one year old Iman. He hopes to save his daughter who is currently suffering from malnutrition and offer her a better life by evacuating to Egypt.

However as the borders are currently closed, the Al-Anqur family needs your help to collect funds for survival. There are 7 members in total, including an elderly couple.

Abdulsalam’s father (Ahmed Al-Anqur), is 54 years old and has recently been diagnosed with cancer. He has been advised to undergo surgery every three months, but with how things are in Gaza, the family isn't sure if it is possible. They are also worried that even if by some miracle it becomes so, they might not be able to bear the cost of it

What Ahmed, hence needs is access to medicines to get by. He also has a weak heart and already has 4 stents in place.  

The Al-Anqur family has been displaced several times and because they couldn't bear the cost of transportation, they once had to travel from the North to Deir Al-Balah in the South ON FOOT ! They have also been subjected to terror and humiliation when they crossed military checkpoints.  

Currently the family is living in a camp surrounded by waste and garbage and would like access to a decent tent before winter sets in.

For a long time, Abdulsalam refused to share his burden with anyone. But after almost a year of surviving through this genocide, he has grown tired and now fears for his daughter’s life. He is also close to tears about his father’s condition and requests  your help in  raising funds for survival. Please help him in whatever way you can. He has come onto  tumblr with a lot of hope. Please donate if you can. Boost and share if you can't. 

Currently at €1,703 / €50,000. Only €797 till €2,500.

Vetting #4 by @gazavetters ( this blog is run by Gazans themselves whom you have helped and still continue to help. Please, a lot of hope is riding on your participation).

[quaranmine]

How long does that potion last?

Hi! Here's a guide I wrote for how long Minecraft potions last in approximation with real time. This is for Java edition only, and hopefully will be useful in stuff like fanfiction.

For reference, a full Minecraft day is 20 minutes in-game. That's 10 minutes of daytime, 3 minutes of dawn/dusk, and 7 minutes of night. I will be equating 10 minutes of daytime = 12 hours of a real-life day. I'm calculating this via comparing percentages, so let me know if I have messed up the math. Potion times are from the wiki and instant potions such as healing or harming are left out for obvious reasons.

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

20-22 second potions: Potion of Slowness IV; Potion of the Turtle Master I and II; Potion of Poison II; Potion of Regeneration II

Lasts approximately 0.396 hours real-time, or 23 minutes and 46 seconds (for 20 seconds potion length)

40-45 second potions: Potion of Poison; Potion of the Turtle Master +; Potion of Regeneration

Lasts approximately 0.9 hours real-time, or 54 minutes (for 45 seconds potion length)

1.5 minute potions: Potion of Regeneration +; Potion of Swiftness II; Potion of Strength II; Potion of Leaping II; Potion of Slow Falling; Potion of Poison +; Potion of Weakness; Potion of Slowness

Lasts 1.8 hours real-time, or 1 hour and 48 minutes

3 minute potions: Potion of Swiftness; Potion of Fire Resistance; Potion of Night Vision; Potion of Strength; Potion of Leaping; Potion of Water Breathing; Potion of Invisibility

Lasts 3.6 hours real-time, or 3 hours and 36 minutes.

4 minute potions: Potion of Slow Falling +; Potion of Weakness +; Potion of Slowness +

Lasts 4.8 hours real-time, or 4 hours and 48 minutes.

5 minute potions: Potion of Luck

Lasts 6 hours real-time.

8 minute potions: Potion of Swiftness +; Potion of Fire Resistance +; Potion of Night Vision +; Potion of Strength +; Potion of Leaping +; Potion of Water Breathing +; Potion of Invisibility +

Lasts 9.6 hours real-time, or 9 hours and 36 minutes.

Tipped arrows, according to the wiki, last 1/8th the time of their corresponding potion if applicable. Since that might vary, I'm not going to calculate them all here.

Go forth and have fun writing! I wrote this post nearly 2 years ago, drafted it, and forgot about it. I hope it can be of some use for writers.

[marthawrites]

Could you write smut for Aemond targaryen with the prompts 17,40,44,47,53 and 54 maybe with a targaryen reader? Just something gentle, sweet and soft <3 btw I’m talking abt this prompt list

I absolutely can! Apologies for making you wait since January for this. I hope you're still around to see (and, fingers crossed) enjoy it!

"Vok" (Perfect)

Aemond Targaryen x sister reader

Word count: 2.6k+

About: You and Aemond pledged to each other long ago. Tonight, beneath the blanket of darkness, you revel in each other's adoration.

Includes: SMUT. Featuring brother x sister incest, Aemond is soft but only to his little sister, dirty talk, female masturbation, guided masturbation, praise, unprotected vaginal sex, and a splash of breeding kink

Note: Hello lovely reader! It's been a hot minute since I've wrote Aemond - the posters and trailers have me going (affectionately) insane! Triple warning: this fic is brother x sister targcest. If you do not like that KEEP ON SCROLLING. This is my first time writing this dynamic. Reader is implied to have silver hair, pale skin, and purple eyes. Everything else is up to you! As always, I hope you enjoy this fic! ❤️

-

To the realm, Aemond Targaryen was the cruel prince. Aloof, stoic, unforgiving.

To the realm, he was an ambitious and willful young man who rode Vhagar, the largest and oldest dragon in the world–the same dragon who helped Queen Visenya conquer Westeros.

To the realm, he was the second son of King Viserys. And, as such, would play the game of nobility by putting duty above love–marrying outside of his Targaryen lineage to seed dragons further into the world.

To you, his little sister and second daughter of King Viserys, he was your protector. 

Your secret.

A poorly kept secret in some corners of the castle; nosy servants and their obnoxious fucking tendencies. But, with Aemond’s less than idle threats about cutting the tongue out of anyone’s throat who would speak about it, it ended up being a well-kept secret.

The second son and second daughter of the Dragon King; who better to love, and cherish, and pledge to, than each other?

Aemond would sooner die than see you marry off to some lowly lord of a “great” House. You were the blood of Old Valyria. Everyone–no matter their feats–was lowly in comparison to you. And you, his sweet sister, deserved only the best.

Barely a year separated your ages. Neither of you remembered a life without the other.

Long before you gave your maidenhead to your brother you gave him your heart. And your heart he held.

-

The night was late. These dark hours were some of the only unadulterated times you had together. Aemond kissed you slowly, passionately, gently stroking along your cheeks with his thumbs as he did. You were tangled in his bed together. You, stripped down to only your shift, and him, stripped down to only his sleep trousers. One of your shift’s thin straps kept sliding down your shoulder, and each time it did Aemond’s warm mouth kissed over the smooth lovely skin. You panted soft sounds–each feminine simper jolting right to his cock–as he lavished you in affection. 

“You’re kissing me silly, lēkia (brother). My head feels full of bees and I’m hot. So, so hot,” you whispered against his kiss-swollen mouth. “Will you not feel for yourself?” He hadn’t yet made a move to touch you where you really, truly, wanted him; something that had you whining and pouting. While his hands alternated between stroking your face and groping your body–waist, hips, thighs–yours were buried in his hair. It was all down and free. The silken sheet of it spilled over his shoulders, spilled over you, and you relished the feel of it inside your hands. Against your bare skin. “Please?”

“Please what, hāedar? (little sister)” He asked, voice mellow with just the right amount of rumble from his chest.

“Please touch me,” you answered, back naturally arching to press your soft body against the hard planes of his own.

Another low sound came from him. He pressed a warm, wide palm up the perfect curve of your back until he squeezed into the nape of your hair. “Such a pretty word from a pretty mouth. Have my kisses made you ache with need, byka zaldrīzes (little dragon)?”

“Yes.” The single word, its single syllable, rolled off your tongue before your brain even fully registered his question. You stared at him desperately. One eye was so beautiful; so ancient in its color and proclamation, just like your own. The other reflected faceted edges of the sapphire he wore in place of his missing eye. You didn’t know which was more enchanting.

“How long can you go, hm? Without me touching you?”

“W-what?”

He laughed. A rumble beneath his pale, taut chest. “How long before you succumb to madness by me not touching your perfect cunny?”

“Aemond…,” you whined. Pitiful. “Not much longer! Please, lēkia, I need you, please.”

A serpent’s grin curved his mouth and darkened his eye as he shifted positions with you. Now, he sat upright with his back against his headboard and pulled you to sit in front of him. 

You nestled between his legs, your back flush with his chest, and his stiff cock rested against the small of your back. A blush bloomed beneath your cheeks. You knew lust ran as wild in his veins as it did in yours.

“Tell me, sweet sister…,” he started, whispering by your ear. Both his hands cupped and squeezed over your breasts. Their softness melted against his palms and he groaned at the sensation. Perfect. You were so fucking perfect. “Have you touched yourself to peak before?”

A stammer replaced the little mewl in your throat. “H-how do you mean?”

He laughed again, pinching your nipples. “Mm… are you sure?”

Lust and need and fire roared in your blood to the point of almost drowning everything else out. “I d-don’t understand,” you admitted. But, it was a lie. You knew what he meant. You could only hope he’d go easy on you so you wouldn't have to admit, prove, or say you knew what he spoke of.

“Why are you playing shy with me, hāedar? I think you know exactly what I mean. There is no shame in it,” he spoke sly, hands pushing the hem of your shift up until he held the material in a fist upon your abdomen. With his other hand he tugged your smallclothes down your bare legs, tossing them off. The flats of all his fingers ghosted over your exposed cunt. Testing you. Feeling you. He hissed an inward breath. “Fuck–”, he growled. “‘Tis a good thing I was born a prince. Gods know if I had this wet little cunt between my thighs I wouldn’t get anything done. Ever. For how often I’d fuck myself silly on my own fingers.”

Aemond’s vulgarity sent a coil of tension wringing in your belly. Slick arousal pooled hotter beneath his touch. Your clit throbbed–the little pearl silently screaming for attention. “Yes,” you breathed, shuddering.

“Yes, what?”

Your older brother wasn’t going easy on you. “Yes. I… I know what you speak of. And.. yes, I do. Sometimes…,” you admitted with a wave of embarrassment.

Somehow he grew harder against the small of your back. He throbbed. “Show me,” he demanded.

“What! Aemond, no. Please, please, please no. Don’t make me show you.” Mortification replaced your previous embarrassment. Yet, your spine quivered with another rush of liquid arousal.

“I would love nothing more than to see how you bring yourself pleasure. Do you think of me when you do, byka zaldrīzes?”

You nodded. Dizziness warbled your brain. 

“Such a sweet perfect thing,” he cooed. He'd felt that nervous energy tense you. He also saw the exquisite thrum of your pulsepoint beneath your neck, too. Two sides of the same coin: carnal desire. When he spoke again it dripped with wicked passion. “Don’t be nervous, I'll guide you through it.”

It had been quite some time since you last brought yourself to climax all on your own. Aemond was always more than eager to give you pleasure. Tonight, however, something was different. Idly you wondered what it could be. Before you thought about it too much, Aemond guided your dominant hand to that delicate space between your thighs. You gasped at the sensation of your own touch. Torture never felt so divine. Your little bud sang as you circled it, rubbed over it. You sighed sweetly. “How did you make me so wet?”

It took controlled effort to not spill himself across your back at that very moment. “Spread your legs for me, princess. Let me see and hear what you’re doing.”

You obeyed. With your legs spread wider, now, it was all the easier to resume your previous motions. Flicking and rubbing over your bud felt divine–excited little sounds already spilled from your mouth. You ached inside, too, wanting–needing–to be stretched around something. The memory of Aemond's long fingers pumping into you while his thumb claimed your clit had your face hot. You couldn't reach those same spots he could. You bit your bottom lip, whimpering.

Aemond watched from above with a hungry lecherous eye. Beneath your shift he could see your breasts, slope of belly… and then further below, your creamy thighs spilled wide open. Fuck–he was so hard his back hurt. Your girlish sounds sent his desire blazing. “Your little clit is so achy, isn’t it? I know how much you like it played with,” he said by your ear. “Do you ever go inside?”

You nodded, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder. You stayed on your pearl, still, legs tensing with bliss as it warmed and tingled your blood.

“Show me,” he growled again. “Be a good girl. And afterward? Don’t worry, I'll take care of you. Promise.” 

Without hesitation you pushed two of your fingers into your warmth. Your body squeezed around the intrusion, inner walls flexing, trying to pull them in deeper. A gasped moan left your parted lips. “I-I’ve never done this before.” You’ve never shown anyone this before is what you meant. Aemond knew what you meant.

“I know. Shh… it’s okay, I'll guide you through it.” He gently touched the top of your hand and relished your little tendons flexing with the effort of your self pleasure. He pushed–coaxing your fingers deeper, silently urging you along. More. 

Soon the wet sounds of your hand against pink swollen flesh mingled with your moans. Lewd. Dirty. You tried to stay quiet. You really did. But it felt too good, and Aemond’s hand on yours guiding you along had your toes curling. Of course he would help you. Of course he wouldn’t let you do it all on your own. “Aem..!,” you whimpered, hips rocking with your movements. “‘M close.”

“I got you,” he whispered, voice heavy.

As soon as your fingers found that little patch of hidden nerves along your walls, you weren’t able to hold on much longer. The bliss, all at once, became too much. Tension snapped in your belly as colors flashed behind your closed eyelids. Your legs trembled at the tip of your peak, and as you crested downwards Aemond held you tighter against him.

“Vok (perfect),” he said as he watched you. How perfect you were with your silver hair framing your face. How perfect you looked when ecstasy became too much. How fucking perfect your eyes were as they opened and locked on his, bright and glassy with excitement. 

You carefully pulled your fingers free and began to turn around to face him. Before you could, however, he held you tighter against him. Confusion furrowed your brow and whatever you were about to say was cut off by his impatience.

“I’m greedy, byka zaldrīzes. Go on, one more time. I know you can do it. Show me again how you peak.”

Without arguing you again settled back against him. You planted your feet along the outside of his legs, spilling your thighs open wider than they were before. You angled your hips to the perfect position and this time a third finger joined your previous two. This time you fucked yourself without shame–not that you held on to it long in the first place.

Aemond all but snarled behind you, absolutely ravenous at the sight of three of your little fingers pumping and curling up into your body. He moved a hand downward, too, and the pads of those fingers worked over your clit in time with your pumps.

“Gods! Aem–!” You quivered against him. The addition of his lascivious attention had your hips squirming. Wanton moans, no longer trying to stay quiet, had your mind blanking. Nothing existed outside of you and Aemond. Nowhere existed outside of the spaces in which your bodies touched. Climax found you faster this time. Your second orgasm had you crumbling against him. Sweat sheened your brow. Your face bloomed. Sated. You were wholly sated.

“Good girl,” he praised. “Such a good girl. Giving me exactly what I wanted,” he kissed you, stealing your lips in a kiss that had you floating all over again. You could have fallen asleep right there in his arms and been the happiest thing in the realm. Breaking away, he added, “now I’ve a promise to make up to you, hm?”

Honestly, you’d forgotten about it. But, now that he mentioned it, your belly did a silly little flop.

With great care, Aemond moved from behind you and stood. Offering a hand to you, he said, “take your clothes off and lay on your back.”

And with that, you both finally shed the last pieces of your clothing. 

Laying like he said, you leaned back on your elbows to prop yourself up to still see your brother. Spilled messy hair, tall lean body littered with nicked scars, sapphire eye on full display…hard cock blushed angry red with need. They say Targaryen’s are closer to Gods than men, and with the hearth’s orange light reflecting on his ivory form, you believed him to be a God.

Aemond thought the same about you as you laid there bathed in the moonlight and hearthlight. 

“Spread your legs for your lēkia, I want to see you.”

As soon as you did–proudly showing off the slick mess of two climaxes, Aemond pumped along his rigid length. Despite butterflies twirling in your belly, your smile up at him was purely feline.

To Aemond’s credit, his voice only broke slightly when he said, “get on your hands and knees.”

You did. You dipped your spine as low as it could comfortably go, propping your ass up for him. As much as he loved fucking you with your legs wrapped around his waist, you knew he loved this position, too. “Māzigon va, lēkia (come on, brother),” you purred. “Keep to your promise.”

In an instant one of his hands squeezed harshly into the fat of your hip while the other spread the meat of your ass apart. He planted one foot firmly on the bed, and the other stayed rooted on the ground. The position gave him more leverage, and power, and control as he loomed above you. With a flex of his entire abdomen he pushed forward; the hot stretch of your body around him had both of you gasping. “I plan on leaving a babe in your belly tonight, hāedar. That way mother will have no other choice than to wed us,” he groaned, pulling backwards only to snap his hips against the smooth underside of your cheeks once again. And again.

You fisted the sheets as Aemond fucked you. You moaned your delight at his words, nodding. “Yes, please,” you panted. “Faster,” you begged.

His thrusts were precise and brutal. The slap of your smacking skin was utterly depraved and you hated–no, loved–how it made you impossibly wetter. Aemond did too. “Already squeezing around me? Fuck–I’m not going to last much longer,” he said, strained.

You began to push back against him, meeting his thrusts halfway with a frenzied need to make him release. “Fill me. Fill me up, Aem,” you still begged, breathing heavily. 

He rutted against you with the same need–a primal haze taking over as his stones began to tighten. His fingers dented firmly into your flesh as he continued plunging in and out of you. Instinct to spill his seed built by the moment and soon he became sloppy. He grunted and growled, and with a final shove–cock buried as deep as it could be inside your walls–he spent against your body’s end. Pulse after mighty pulse emptied his spend into you. Stray strands of hair stuck to a sheen of sweat upon his forehead.

You joined him in peak; left boneless and exhausted after three orgasms. Even at the top of your bliss, and his, he never eased until you were both done.

Aemond pulled his softening length out from you and urged you to fall forward upon his bed. You followed his motion and happily laid there. Naked, glowing, and full. You reached a hand out to pull him to you. “Avy jorrāelan (i love you).”

Aemond easily settled next to you, scooping you into him. “Avy jorrāelan tolī (i love you too),” he said between slow, satisfied kisses.

-

Thank you so much for reading! If you enjoyed, please consider a follow, and/or reblog, and/or letting me know as it all makes me vvvery happy! ♥

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[whereonhermitcraftisjoel]

joel and iskall go through a breakupo (???) and iskall begins his yandere ex gf arc around 4 hours and thirty something minutes in.

This week on hermitcraft: the anime: the harem isekai protaganist joel is being lusted after by at least five different people

I really can’t overstate how weird this is, and how thirty four minutes long it is. I wanted to cut it down but there's never thirty seconds w/out Joel (or Jimmy) talk. I guess I’ll put some clips on youtube? I haven’t even finished all my weird flirty mcc clips (including iskall/jimmy)

Real quotes:

Joel: "Secret relationship???" Iskall: "Do you not love me?" Joel: "Not like that, we're just friends." Iskall: "I just got friendzoned?" Joel: "Deal with it."

Iskall's Crazy Ex Arc Twitch link , 04:26:00

(he also does youtube vods so hopefully it will wind up there)

Timestamps:

04:25:47 - Joel logs on and heads to Iskall Iskall claims it’s all cool ha ha it’s a prank he’s fine 04:31:15 - Joel is gone, threatens restraining order over chat 04:34:55 - Iskall declares his Jimmy arc 04:37 - Iskall is trying to frame Etho 04:39 - Iskall starts writing crazed letters and sending them 04:44 - Joel is back 04:47 - Etho reference 04:54 - Joel leaves for good 04:55 - Iskall brainstorms ways to be very weird about Joel 04:58 - Iskall worried people won’t get the joke is he gets too weird about Joel

(some of the screenshots or my summary may have gotten a bit out of order)

Summary: Joel is back from Japan and has seen all the mail from Iskall. He logs on, Iskall starts flirting. Iskall tells his chat that ha ha it's all funny Joel doesn't realize it's all funny.

Iskall explains why he thought he and Joel were in a "secret relationship" because of a prank and note Joel left him. Joel says it was not him. (His chat says it was False.) Joel seems utterly baffled and friendzones him. Iskall is also baffled.

Iskall: "Do you not love me?" Joel: "Not like that, we're just friends."

Iskall: "I just got friendzoned?"

Iskall gets weird in chat, with Gem shouting and begging to get banned, Iskall sends Joel... crazy ex letters, I guess? I'm not screenshoting those, too many images, probably in his next ep.

Iskall declares he's moving on to his Jimmy arc, with his beautiful hair and eyes.

(Note: Iskall and Jimmy spent a bunch of time together for the Hermit Charity Stream. Maybe Iskall saw him with others and said, "Oh I can get much more homoerotic with hermits, huh." I'm new to Iskall but my friends say his obsession was never quite so... romantic framed.)

The previous day, on MCC, Iskall's first in three years:

Iskall somehow thinks he can pin anything here on Etho.

Iskall then tries to hire Joel to do armor stands and to sell him an apartment. Throughout all this, Etho is brought up several times.

I recommend keeping Iskall's chat up, it's not overwhelming and pretty fun. I've got some more chat quotes below the cut

[antiquarianfics]

Accidental pt. 3

What happens when you accidentally kidnap the exact man you were looking for?

pairing: mob!bucky x reader

warning(s): canon level violence, kidnapping, profanity

a/n: girl, do i know where this is going? no, not until i write it. but what do you think? is this gonna end well? hehehe

You do not have permission to copy, translate, or repost my work; however, feel free to like, comment, and reblog.

part 2

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

"Have her home by... What time was your meeting again? 7? Have her home safely by 7 tomorrow," you say, standing up from where you sat in front of him. You begin to move around the basement, picking up your things that you had brought with you in the whole kidnapping ordeal. Once you've collected your things, you start walking towards the stairs to leave. "If she isn't there, the deal's off."

"You're just going to leave me here?" James asks, pulling at his arm restraints.

You look over your shoulder at him and smile at him. "You're a mob boss, doll, I'm sure you'll get out of there in time." Then, with that, you ascend the stairs.

—

You pace back and forth through your sister's living room, a million thoughts racing through your mind.

What if James doesn't follow through on his word?

What if you're being played?

What if you let go the one person who could actually help you?

You take a deep breath, pulling back the curtains hanging above the living room window to peek out into the street. Empty. Your eyes drift over to the analog clock your sister has hanging above her fireplace. The hands seem to scream back at you: 6:53.

You pace some more, rationalizing that James still has—you glance at your watch that now reads 6:54—6 minutes to return your sister. Six minutes. Six minutes. Six minutes until you have to pull your mask back on and try and somehow track James down again. He might not have been your original target, but now that you've dealt with him, he's the go-to.

You look up at the analog clock on the wall again: 6:58. You pull back the curtain, looking out the window. Empty. You groan loudly and kick the nearest piece of furniture, wincing in pain when it actually hurts. You glance down at your watch: 6:59. You rush to the front door, looking out the peep hole. Your phone buzzes in your pocket, an alarm for 7:00.

Right on time, a black, fancy-looking SUV pulls up in front of your sister's house and you pull the front door open, taking quick steps onto the porch. You watch anxiously as the driver kills the engine and steps out of the car before walking around the vehicle to open the back passenger door. Once the door opens, you suck in a breath.

Ellie steps out. You exhale.

The two of you make eye-contact and Ellie rushes towards you while you hop the stairs to meet her. The two of you crash into a desperate embrace.

"Ellie! Oh, God! Are you okay?" You pull away, hands cupping either side of her face as you move it side to side, examining her for any sort of injury. Your breathing is erratic.

"I'm okay, Y/N. I'm okay." Ellie assures, her right hand rising to cup your face. She smiles weakly (it's meant to be reassuring).

"I'm so sorry it took me so long to find you. I did everything I could," you promise, willing her to believe you.

"I know."

Ellie looks like she wants to say more, maybe apologize for getting herself into such a situation, beg for forgiveness for being so reckless, but she doesn't get the opportunity. Your reunion is interrupted by the driver clearing his throat, clearly impatient and unaffected by the scene unfolding in front of him. You glance up at the man while Ellie turns and looks at him over her shoulder. She returns her gaze to you before offering you another apologetic smile.

"I'll be inside," she says, walking away. You nod, turning your head slightly to your right as she passes you. You wait for the door to open and close behind you before you look back up at Barnes' man.

"Can I help you?" You ask, your voice cold and devoid of emotion. You're doing your best to summon back the confidence and authority you had when you were questioning James Barnes himself. James, however, had not witnessed what you assume the man in front of you perceived as a weak moment.

The man smirks, as if he is aware of your internal battle, and reaches into his coat pocket. From the depths of his suit jacket, he pulls out an envelope and hands it to you. You raise an eyebrow, eyeing the envelope suspiciously. You take it from him gingerly.

"What's this?''

"From Mr. Barnes," is all he says. He does not move, however, and it's clear that he is going to stand there and watch you open the envelope.

"Uh huh," you say, slipping your finger beneath the seal, breaking it. You cautiously pull out a small piece of stationary; it's white with a gold border. It reads:

To the woman who knocked me out, dragged me to an unknown location, tied me up, demanded information from me, and pointed a gun at me,

If you're reading this, then my men have safely escorted your sister home and you've laid eyes on her. Thus, I have held up my end of the bargain. I trust you will hold up yours. I'd hate for you to have drag me back to that basement...

Let's stay on theme, shall we? I will send for you tonight at 7:00. Wear something nice. ;)

Yours Truly,

J.B.B.

You scoff as you finish reading the note, dropping your hand to your side and looking up and around in disbelief. The nerve of this guy! You didn't miss the teasing tone he held back in the basement—he was as flirty as ever—but you also didn't miss the threat held within his words. I'd hate for you to have to drag me back to that basement... As if you'd ever risk Ellie's well-being by standing him up. You may have the audacity to kidnap him, but you're still very aware he's dangerous. You clench your jaw, swallow, and let your eyes meet those of Barnes' lacky.

"Tell James," you put emphasis on the mobster's first name in hopes of seeming unbothered by the note, "that he has nothing to worry about. I intend to hold up my end of our bargain, but," you say, taking a step forward and jabbing a finger into the man's chest, "also tell him that there will be none of this 'sending for me' business. He wants this meeting so badly, then he can dance his pretty little self up to my door and pick me up. You hear me?"

The man nods, "Yes, ma'am." He looks like he's trying not to laugh, but you feel it's not at you. Perhaps at Barnes' expense? You decide you don't care as you turn around and start to make your way back towards the house. You take only a couple of steps before you pause, though, and turn, a thoughtful look on your face.

"Oh, and one more thing," you say, catching the man's attention before he gets back into the SUV. He raises an eyebrow, you smirk. "Tell James he better damn well bring flowers."

»»———-———-———-———-———-———-———-««

@cjand10 @vicmc624 @mostlymarvelgirl @livingoutsidethetardis @onceithough @thedonswife13 @kaithesimps-blog @buckitostan @julvrs @unaxv

[hunter470]

My 9-1-1 RANT

Ok, I don’t normally do these types of posts, but I can’t move on until I get some things out. These are just my thoughts about the latest episodes of 9-1-1 as well as overall comments on the Buck/Tommy relationship. These opinions are mine and are based on the countless hours of TV I’ve watched in my 54 years on this planet, as well as my knowledge of writing and how Hollywood operates. I’m not confirming that any of this is true or are the real intentions of anyone involved with the show. Just my opinions. So, you can agree with me or not. I’m not trying to persuade anyone in any way. Also, I’m not going to get into endless arguments about my opinions but feel free to comment if you want, I just don’t promise I’ll reply. 

Ok, here we go. Sorry it’s so long. Like I said earlier, I just needed to get it out. So many wasted opportunities.

If you think TM cares what the fans want, you’re seriously kidding yourself. If he did, Buddie would have been canon a long time ago. The only thing he cares about is ratings and his vision for the show, which can change at a moment’s notice with no rhyme or reason as we’ve seen. 

Although I loved Buck and Tommy together, I knew the show wouldn’t do their story justice. So, no matter what TM or OS have said, the bi story was only to garner publicity, draw in new viewers, and increase ratings especially with the show moving to a new network. There was no altruistic reason behind it so don’t kid yourself. They knew there was an audience for the story because of all the Buddie shippers. Just remember, it’s called show business, not show friends for a reason.

Do you think OS really cares about bi representation? Based on his latest comments and non-apology it’s obvious he only cares about getting the stories that garner him the most screen time and press. Seriously, read his latest interviews. He’s excited to get to have fun now. So, congrats OS, Buck gets to F around. Just shows how most, if not all, actors are ego driven no matter what they say. Sorry not sorry.

TM has commented that he doesn’t owe anyone anything. In fact, I recall him saying to Buddie fans if they don’t like it, read fanfiction. If that didn’t clue you in, then you weren’t reading the room. Kinda reminds me of another show runner…for those who watched H50 you know who I’m talking about. That’s why I don’t get heavily invested in these shows. I’ll watch but I never expect anything I like to last…especially if it has to do with gay relationships.

It says a lot that the show remained completely silent about the bullying and death threats Lou received just for playing a role he was happy to play. Again, they really didn’t care because they knew he wasn’t going to be there after episode six. What a great message for all the bullies…just keep bullying and you’ll get what you want. 

Again, reread OS’s interviews. He was doing the Hollywood double speak. Says just enough to keep you hooked with hope to get you to watch even when he knew all along it wasn’t lasting. It really was as clear as day if you go back and read what he said. 

Also, if you thought Buck was going to get into a meaningful long-term relationship, then you didn’t watch the video from the You Tuber “Call Me Chato” that TM posted on his Facebook. The video was all about characters and how they should always stay fundamentally the same with minimal development - I’m paraphrasing. However, Buck is the golden retriever, heart so big it gets broken, character who will remain on a hamster wheel and unlucky in love because that’s who he is. If he changes too much it shifts the dynamic, which only happens if the show was ending. 

If you thought the writers would do justice to a bisexual story, then you haven’t been watching the show closely. There’s been minimal Buck/Tommy relationship development on screen. Taylor got more. Viewers were lucky to get crumbs in the limited screen time Buck and Tommy got. Then, a breakup out of left field? One minute Buck is saying Tommy is it for him and he wants him to move in, and then it’s over? If he truly felt deeply for Tommy, why not fight to keep him? Why give up so easily and let him walk away? What’s the point? Also, to end it on a terrible stereotype is yet another clue. Horrible writing and another sign that TM and OS had zero investment in the relationship. The whole break up was rushed and made no sense. Essentially, it was just used to draw people in and to get Buck single and sleeping around again because that’s who he is. I for one won’t care for any of Buck’s future relationships. I mean, why would I when they never last. 

Also, writers that give you a 66-year-old police sergeant and a 10 y/o boy landing a heavily damaged plane on an active freeway in LA with no prior training, and sorry playing video game flight simulators is not training, is some Sharknado level writing, which is not a compliment. Oh, and that whole story was truly the shows “jumping the shark” moment. If you don’t know what the term “jumping the shark” means, look it up and try to tell me I’m wrong. 

Not having Tommy involved in the three part premier episodes, other than a few minutes at a birthday party, was so obvious as to the show’s intent. I mean, the fake captain from Hotshots got more screen time. 

They claim they wanted someone for Buck that was connected to him and the 118 and then you don’t use the character at all. You wanted Buck off the hamster wheel? What a crock! Such a wasted opportunity.

Since it’s been confirmed episode 6 was filmed before 5, Tim’s just playing god with peoples’ feelings and crushing their hearts at this point. I mean, how do you have such a great episode (5) and a wonderful speech by Josh (6) just to break them up? Plus, having Tommy break up after six months? That man was all in, which was obvious in episode 5.

Guess it shouldn’t be a surprise that’s how TM would handle things after that horrible Tarlos breakup. At least on Lone Star we knew Rafa (Carlos) was a main cast member so there was hope. Lou was a guest star so it seems kinda final based on his interviews. Again, what was the point? They could have had Buck's bi revelation be with a random character. So, building up the Buck/Tommy relationship just to take it away was to inflict the most pain. Good job. 

Do I think the show will make Buddie canon? Who knows…one thing I do know is I wouldn’t trust them if they did. Also, even if Tommy somehow returns, I don’t trust TM with anything related to this story. Sure, hope he’s happy with ruining the show for so many people. Again, like another show runner I mentioned in item 4 above. Honestly, I can’t believe the Buddie fans have stayed for so long. That’s commitment, I guess. 

Do I think Lou should go back to 9-1-1? Hell no! He was screwed over by both TM and OS. Prove it to me otherwise. However, it’s up to him and of course, he loves acting so I wouldn’t blame him.

Finally, even though I’ve watched the show since the beginning, it no longer brings me joy. There are too many other TV shows to stick with one I no longer enjoy. So yes, I’m announcing my departure, and I don’t give an F what OS, you, or anyone else thinks about it. Not that any of this matters any way…

[cissyenthusiast010155]

Could I request a Principal Larissa Weems or Lesso? with 52,54,59? Maybe with her assistant? Maybe with some smut🫣. I was thinking that they would be cold to the reader bc they like them and then the reader says something like why do you hate me and then it leads from there.. but do what you feel most comfortable with!!! ( Also I love your writings they are so good and you are so talented<3)

Quivering at Your Touch ~Sub!Larissa Weems xFem Mommy!Younger(20s)!Assistant!Reader (feat. Morticia Addams)

Summary— Sub!Larissa fic where Reader is Larissa’s assistant at Nevermore and they don’t really get along because Larissa is just cold to Reader all the time. But when Reader confronts Larissa, Reader finds that the tall blonde principal is a desperate sub who just wants to be a good girl for her mami… Anon Response— Hello anon!! You can absolutely request this! I would love to write this for you. I admit, I got a little carried away… Enjoy♥️

Mommy… Master List

Requests & Prompt-List

#52. “Fuck… Mommy! … Oh my, I’m so sorry, it just… slipped out…?”

#54. “You can call me Mommy/Daddy if you want too…”

#59. “You… find this attractive?”

Warnings: NSFW, 18+!!, smut, little fluff, eating out (oral sex), fingering, age gap (all legal), clit stimulation, grinding, humping, squirting, voice kink, sexy Spanish— I am not fluent so I apologize in advance for any mistakes, mami(mommy) kink, desperation, teasing, praising, light begging, light taunting, implied light overstimulation, implied Morissa, Morticia Addams, comforting, physical comforting, implied future smut, etc.

Enjoy (;

You walked into Ms. Weems’ office before the sun had even come up, handing over the paperwork that she had sent you home with last night. Being Ms. Weems’ assistant was your dream job. But it was not easy. The tall, blonde principal had high standards for herself and everyone else, especially her assistant.

After her near death experience, Morticia had convinced Larissa to hire an assistant, because according to the raven haired goddess, “You cannot carry the weight of the world, neigh Nevermore, on your shoulders alone, Mon Chérie…” Morticia had cooed late one summer night into the blonde’s exposed ear.

So, Larissa had began looking and interviewing two weeks before the new school year started. She had put out the news that she was interested in hiring an assistant, and soon the woman had resumes to look through. It had been almost two weeks and Larissa hadn’t found anyone suitable, when you had walked through the door of her office.

Larissa took an immediate liking to you. You were intelligent, organized, well-dressed and well mannered. After a mere twenty minutes, the tall blonde was offering you the job. You had eagerly accepted and moved into Nevermore at once. And the new school year started with a quick bang. And just as quickly, your work began.

“Here is your schedule for the week and those quarterly reports for this semester that you requested, Ms. Weems.” You spoke in a professional and formal manner, as always and as expected, as you handed the blonde principal the files.

Larissa looked up from her computer, reaching out and taking the files.

“Thank you, Miss L/N.” Larissa hummed, then standing up and going over to her cabinets of files, “One thing before you leave…”

You knew that Principal Weems was on first names basis’ with most of the staff, as far as the tall principal using pet names for some of your colleagues. The fact that after over nine weeks of working for this woman that she never wavered from Miss L/N, and she always expected Ms. Weems or Principal Weems made you sad. You knew it shouldn’t, she was your boss after all. But it did.

“Yes?” You asked, raising your head in her direction as she moved across the room.

Larissa paused to look through the many files, before pulling one out and coming back around her desk and up to you. She handed you the file, looking at you expectantly.

“Parent Teacher Conferenecs are coming up throughout the week, I need these typed up and reviewed before the end of today.” Larissa instructed you in her professionally cold tone, the tone that she only used for formal principal meeting, events and for you.

You nodded, taking the file, and looking away to blush at the intense eye contact.

“Yes Ms. Weems…” you spoke out, “Is there anything else…?”

Larissa went back to sit at her desk chair, then looking back at you with a stoic face.

“That will be all, Miss Y/N.” The blonde principal calmly stated, “You are excused until my first parent teacher conference, where I will be expecting you to take notes.”

You nodded and murmured, “Yes ma’am…”, before shuffling out of her office and going back to sit back in your tiny assistant area, designated to you by Ms. Weems.

You sat down with a deep sigh, Larissa’s tone internally eating away at you. You hated how cold she always was… You didn’t think you’d ever down anything to her. But you must have. Because the warm, caring, tall Principal that you saw interacting with students and her staff was a shallow, cold bitch to you when you were alone.

For the rest of the day, you made sure to attend all of the woman’s meetings, taking diligent notes and remaining silent, as she would glare at you if you said a word. By the end of the day, you were tired and still had some of the papers for the conferences to finish. You worked until you had completed all of the work Ms. Weems had given you. You walked into Ms. Weems’ office, it was way past time for you to be off for the day, but alas.

“Ms. Weems?” You called, knocking and then opening the door, only to enter when she permitted you.

“Come in…” Larissa hummed, not even taking the moment to meet your gaze in curteous recognition.

You closed the door behind you, before taking a deep breath.

“Here are the conference files you asked me to fill out, along with my notes from today’s meetings…” You spoke, waking up to her desk and handing over the files.

Larissa continued working.

“Leave them here, Miss L/N…” the woman coolly spoke out, “You are excused for tonight. I will see you early tomorrow.”

A wave of frustration came over you, as you left the papers and turned to leave. You felt your eyes begin to water, as her hurtful treatment seemed to finally hit a nerve. Something about today, and maybe all the other times, made you turn swiftly on your heel, back towards the woman.

“Ms. Weems…?” You choked out, your voice faltering.

The woman hummed lightly, letting you know that she heard you, but not giving you the time of day for any eye contact or actual words.

“I…” you walked back to her desk, “Why do you hate me…? Have I… done something…? Is… my work not up to your standard…?” You stammered, your voice breaking throughout your sentences.

At your words, Larissa stopped typing on her computer. She then very slowly raised her head and her intense gaze finally met yours. She then closed her eyes, pinching the bridge of her nose with a deep sigh.

“No Darling, your work is impeccable…” Larissa sighed.

The petname sent warm shivers down your spine and goosebumps across your skin. And at hearing her compliment, a faint blush immediately began to creep up around your cheeks. You were able to take a little sigh of relief at her words, but an underlying pit in your stomache still tugged at you nonetheless.

“Oh—Ok. Then… why do you treat me like…” you stammered, struggling on how to express your feelings without offending your boss.

“Cold? Abrasive? Harsh?” Larissa scoffed at herself, finishing your thought far more direct than you would have ever admitted to.

Your blush deepened and you nodded slowly.

“Yes” you softly stated.

“Because…” Larissa sighed, clasping her hands together and biting her lip before continuing, “I don’t hate you, Darling… Far from it.”

You knew you could hear Larissa’s words, but they didn’t seem to register, as your face was still plastered with confusion and broken spirit.

Larissa’s expression slowly softened at the sight of yours. She then proceeded to stand up, coming over to the other side of her desk, the one closest to you. She indicated for you to sit on the couch by the fire. As she walked to the burning fireplace next to the couch, you scurried to take a seat, then looking up at the woman, whose face was now a myriad of emotions.

“Y/N… You…” Larissa began softly and with the most vulnerable tone you’d ever heard from the formal woman, “You are the most marvelous woman—person, that I’ve ever encountered…”

She paused to take another deep sigh before continuing, “You are brilliant at your job, I have never had anyone do their job as well as you do yours, the passion and effort you put into your work is unmatched. From the very first time I met you, I knew there was something about you. Your personality, your heart is so warm and you are so caring…”

Your eyes widened the more the woman confessed, and your lips parted slightly in shock. You wondered if this was a dream… Where you hearing the woman correctly…?

But when Larissa leaned forward and grasped your hands in hers, you knew this was no dream. Her sapphire gaze bore into yours intensely, and her eyes radiated truth. You gasped lightly at the touch, and found yourself immediately yearning for more. But her gaze and face then turned sad. And in the at moment, you would have some anything to make the tall blonde smile.

“I… I apologize for the way I treated you… I thought… I thought that if I kept you at a distance that I wouldn’t get hurt… But I see now that my actions, while protecting me, ended up hurting you… and that was never my intention, Darling. For that I am truly sorry…”

She squeezed your hands reassuringly, as her remorseful gaze met yours. The realization of the woman’s words started to creep into your mind. A rogue tear managed to slip past your watch, rolling down your cheek. Larissa’s heart nearly broke them and there, having to watch you process your past few months of agony.

“Protect yourself from what…?” You whispered, as you met her gaze once more.

At your question, Larissa looked away and a light rosy blush flushed her cheeks. She sighed once more and then began to chuckle lightly at herself.

“Protect myself from my feelings…” Larissa admitted, biting her lip anxiously, “And now that I think about it, it seems so absurd.”

These words were the final piece of the puzzle that you had spent months searching for. Suddenly, all the pieces came into place, it all made sense. And a wave of calm seemed to flow over you.

Without thought, instinct had you raise your hand and cup the woman’s flushed cheek. Her head immediately swiveled back toward you, her eyes widened at your bold move. But she didn’t pull away, quite the opposite in fact, you found that the woman only leaned into your touch, closing her eyes and letting out a hum in contentment.

“Larissa Weems, are you saying that you like me?” You softly asked, with a little smile and a light twinkle in your eyes.

The woman’s eyes fluttered open and at first, her face was panicked, but once she saw the calm expression on your face, she seemed to relax a little.

“I… I suppose so…” Larissa whispered, her face radiating raw vulnerability.

You smiled even brighter, caressing the woman’s cheek with one hand, as her hands held your other one. The tall blonde then fell gracefully to her knees, now sitting right in between your legs and right up against your couch. And she looked up at you, searching for some, any direction.

“I like you too…” you whispered back.

Larissa entire body seemed to be needing to hear those words, because as soon as they left your mouth, a weight was lifted from the blonde’s soul. And before you knew it, the woman was curling up in your lap. Your jaw threatened to drop, but you restrained yourself. Never in your life had you expected the cold, formal Principal Weems to be in your lap and purring like a content cat.

You gently reached out to her, running your fingers along her tight back hair. She raised her head into your hand with another hum, encouraging you. So you began to take out the pins of the woman’s hair, one by one, until her curls were falling onto your lap and you could run your fingers through her hair freely. The entire time, Larissa was snuggled up in your lap, purring in delight.

You chuckled to yourself, wondering what it would be like if someone walked in… but that thought quickly slipped away, as the ambience of the moment took over your mind. The fireplace crackling and giving a soft glow to the room, seemed to make it all feel more intimate. Not to mention Larissa being literally in your lap, also made it far more intimate..

Time passed naturally, as the woman continued to purr in your lap and you continued to run fingers through her hair, eventually moving to massage her tense shoulders. The blonde let out little whimpers and groans every now and then, which you found to be utterly adorable.

Larissa began adjusting her position for you, so that you could scratch and massage all the itches and tensions littered around her stressed out body. The woman ended up straddling your lap, her head tucked into the crook of your neck as you massaged a particular knot from her upper spine.

She let out a groan as you kneeded the knot out of her tense muscle, inadvertently bucking her hips into your lap and releasing a particularly breathy whimper along with it. Larissa’s mouth opened and her eyes widened in light shock at her overtly sexual actions.

Your eyes sparkled at the shift in tone of the scene, your hands traveling to the woman’s hips, starting to guide her hips to lightly grind against your form beneath her. Larissa’s hands shot to your shoulders as she arched her back and rolled her head back with another groan, this one most definitely sexual. Her eyes fluttered shut as you helped her get off against your frame.

“That’s it… Let me help you relax, Ms. Weems…” you cooed lovingly, eagerly drinking in the other woman’s frame.

“L-Larissa please Darling…” Larissa insisted with another breathy groan, as she continued to grind down against your lap.

You chuckled lightly and nodded.

“Alright Larissa…” you teased her name on your tongue, making the woman melt into a puddle in your lap.

You slowly shifted her frame onto one of your thighs, so that she could grind her core against your tensed thigh more effectively. The blonde was quick to catch on, letting her dress rile up her thighs as she began to put her grinding weight against your tensed muscles.

Larissa let out a mutter of expletives, words that you never would have thought to come out of such a proper woman’s lips. But it felt so right in the moment as the blonde was holding onto you for dear life, as she rutted against your thigh. You could feel the warmth of her pussy on your thigh, as you tightly held her hips and guided her further towards her impending climax.

Breathy whimpers and groans spewed from Larissa’s lips, her eyes were screwed shut tight, all of her previous inhibitions lost, as she unabashedly got herself closer and closer to her high. When she was teetering on the edge, you gripped her hips tighter, keeping her sloppy grinding in a rhythm and your lips snuck to the shell of her ear.

“Cum for me, Larissa… Te ves tan hermosa así… Let go, let it all out.”[You look so beautiful like that…] You purred into the blonde’s ear.

It only took a couple more grinding motions before the woman was coming undone on top of you. Letting out a strangled moan, she rode her high as best as she could before collapsing on top of your chest with heavy panting.

“Eres una chica muy buena, Larissa…”[You’re such a good girl, Larissa…] you praised the blonde.

Larissa couldn’t help but blush, she could recognize praise, even when it wasn’t in English. You let her gather her self in your lap, and the minutes past in comfortable silence. Eventually, Larissa stirred, sitting up once more and meeting your gaze.

“You’re sexy when you speak Spanish…” she breathed out, before her eyes went wide and she instantly began to correct her statement, “What I meant…! You’re always sexy— no I…!”

You hushed Larissa by leaning into her and connecting your lips swiftly with hers. Larissa immediately leaned in, impossibly close to you, her hands coming to cup your cheeks, pulling you even closer. You hummed into the passionate kiss, which seemed to be reigniting Larissa’s lust once more. Not to mention your own…

“You… find this, my Spanish… attractive?” You breathlessly whispered into her lips.

Larissa eagerly nodded before smashing her lips back into yours, and you practically purred in delight. Your lips and teeth began to clash together as hour respective hungers grew. Larissa happily allowed you to slip your tongue inside her mouth, deepening the kiss even further. Pretty soon, the woman was encouraging you to pick her up, which you eagerly did, carrying her to her attached private quarters.

“Eres tan hermosa, mi amor. Quiero mostrarte lo guapa que eres...”[You are so beautiful, my love. I want to show you just how gorgeous you are…] you whispered against her hungry lips, as you devoured one another.

Larissa bucked her hips against your frame and spewed a string of breathy whimpers as a result of your Spanish. You placed Larissa on the center of the bed as your mouth began to wander past the woman’s lips and towards her neck and shoulders… Larissa gasped as you sucked on her pressure point, her hands scrambling to pull you even closer, tugging you onto the bed with her.

Soon, hands were flying to zippers and buttons, as the two of you practically tore each other’s clothes off in the heat and passion of the moment. The blonde’s dress pooled at her feet as you unbuttoned your pants, both being thrown aside, along with your shirt. Your nimble fingers unclipped both her bra and your own, both of which were also tossed aside.

Now left in nothing but your knickers, you guided the woman to lay back on the bed, propping herself up by her elbows. You crawled on top of Larissa, perching yourself to straddle her stomache before connecting your lips together once more. The blonde let out a whimper into your lips, as her hands dropped her fully on the bed and shot to your exposed skin, wandering and feeling their way down your body. Her fingers stopped and paid special attention to your sensitive buds.

“Dios mío, vas a ser mi muerte...”[My God, you’re going to be the death of me…] you breathed out into her lips, her teasing causing you to buck your hips against the blonde’s form.

Another whimper erupted from Larissa’s throat in response, desperate for more friction. You pressed your lips once more time against her plump red ones, a mere ghost of a kiss, before starting to slowly run down her body, paying special attention to each bit of exposed skin that the woman had to offer. Larissa’s one hand shifted to your head, eagerly attempting to push you further down, down to where she needed you most. Her other hand wandered up to her own nipple, teasing and tugging to deepen her own pleasure. When you showed no signs of speeding up your worshiping of the woman’s body, Larissa began to beg,

“Darling P-please… I need you… need you so bad… need it… give it to me—” Larissa chocked out in a mewl.

Your mouth was attached to her left nipple as she spoke, arching her back into your touch. You let go of her tit with a pop!, and then smiled before shimmying your body further down her frame. Lowering your face down to her clothed, needy cunt, you licked a stripe along her underwear, right above her core. Larissa’s knees buckled and her hips jerked upwards, towards your face.

“¿Es esto lo que quieres? Te ves tan bien, cariño…”[Is this what you want? You look so good, my darling] you purred, fanning your hot breath onto her quivering pussy.

You were quick to hold her shaking thighs down, so that she didn’t accidentally suffocate or hit you from her impending intense pleasure. Larissa struggled a little against your firm hold, but as your grip tightened on her thighs, she quickly became even more desperate in her pleading.

“Christ Y/N Please!! Stop teasing and just… just fuck mami please!” Larissa cried out, desperately bucking her hips to encourage any kind of friction with the throbbing heat.

Her face flushed and all her motions came to a halt at the name just uttered from her lips, and the blonde began to stamer.

“Oh my, I’m so sorry, it just… Darling it, slipped out…? I—”

With a chuckle, you hooked your fingers along the waistband of her knickers. Tapping her hips, the woman couldn’t meet your gaze from the embarrassment but nonetheless she instinctually raised her hips and thighs for you. You then pulled off her last garment, throwing it into the abyss. Your eyes sparkled at the sight of Larissa’s glistening cunt. You looked up and met the blonde’s goddess figure and then her lustful, hooded gaze. She nodded in desperation, encouraging you to take her.

With one final teasing, hot breath to the woman’s cunt, you finally gave in and began lapping your tongue through her folds. Her back arched deliciously into your hot touch, her fingers curling in your hair and into the bed sheet. As your tongue flicked her clit, the woman’s head lolled back and her eyes fluttered shut, completely forgetting her verbal slip up for the moment.

“Oh yessss… Yes yes yes…!” She chanted, her mind swimming in overwhelming pleasure.

You swiftly pulled away however, making Larissa’s head shoot up and give you the most needy pout and whimper.

“You can call me Mami if you want too…” you purred wickedly, before swirling two fingers in her wetness and then sliding the digits into her core.

Larissa let out an unbridled groan, her fingers digging into your scalp as her walls fluttered around your fingers. You fucked the woman at a decent pace, pumping and curling your fingers inside her core, paying close attention to what motions made her toes curl especially. Her eyes fluttered closed. Larissa was huffing and whimpering more and more, and soon the sounds turned into full on moans.

“Eyes on me, hermosa…” you lustfully purred, drawing the blondes hooded gaze back to yours.

“Y-yes mami—” Larissa choked out.

Her blown out pupils met your sultry gaze. Her face flushed at the intense eye contact. She held your head in a vice grip as your fingers thrusted inside her expertly and your mouth latched onto her aching clit. Larissa’s back arched desperately in your touch, and one of your hands moved up from her thighs to tease her perked, straining buds.

It didn’t take long for the blonde to be teetering on the edge again…

“Mami mamiiiii…!!” Larissa babbled, shaking her head violently and fighting the urge to screw her eyes shut tight and scream,

“AhgghhhhHhH GOD pleaseeee—!!!” She cried out, her hips thrashing and body spasming.

“Vamos, vamos... Cum for me… lo tienes, mi dulce chica…”[Come on, come on…You’ve got it, my sweet girl…] you purred gently, curling your fingers with huge words to perfectly hit that spongey spot inside the woman’s core.

Larissa’s breath faltered and suddenly her orgasm was washing over her, her juices gushing out of her and onto your fingers as her walls clenched around your fingers. Your tongue eagerly lapped up all the woman’s arousal, practically keening over at her taste. Then with sudden force, the woman’s core squirted all over your fingers and face. You moaned in delight, eagerly taking all that Larissa would give you.

She was so wrapped up in her orgasm, Larissa hadn’t even registered that she had squirted. But even as she came down from her high, the older woman still seemed to be not fully satisfied. She was squirming in pleasure, in need for more, babbling and begging for it…

“Mami mami—por favor, necesito más, necesito más…!!”[Mommy mommy—please, I need more, I need more…] Larissa pleaded with a desperate cry, her hips bucking against your face is desperation.

You nearly moaned into the woman’s cunt at her pleading, her tone, her words, her voice… You couldn’t deny the fact that even broken Spanish sounded sexy on her tongue… It made you shiver with anticipation. With one last lick to her cunt to rock her back from her orgasm, you pulled out of her cunt. Larissa immediately whimpered at the loss of feeling.

“Vale, vale, te escucho, dulce chica… Tell me what you want, bueno chica… Use your words for me…”[Ok ok, I hear you, sweet girl… good girl…] you cooed.

The following sweet babbles that flowed out of the submissive blonde’s mouth were like music to your ears. And you were more than happy to grant any request this woman made of you. Hell, with a simple please from her lips, there was nothing you wouldn’t do for that woman…

~~~

Larissa Weems Masterlist

[pogueswrld]

*•.¸♡ make up sex ♡¸.•*

pairing: fred weasley x fem!plus-sized!reader

summary: Freddie talks too much, and his girlfriend is exhausting all the ways she knows to shut him up. Softly, of course.

warnings: smut🦢!1!1!1!1! there's plot and fluff, and everyone's of age ofc, although it is hinted that reader is still in Hogwarts, kinda sub!Fred top!reader, like he's whining and panting and begging and shit (bites lip) ANYWAY, dick riding hehe, no usage of y/n.

note: it is 2:59 pm on a Friday, let's see how fast I write this shit. note 0.2: Okay so it's 5:54 pm on the same day, I think I'm done. This isn't edited, but it took me 3 hours to write 😁

He was still talking. Why, in the name of Merlin, was he still talking?

Dating Fed Weasley is fun, there's no denying that, but Good Heavens isn't that a boy a handful. Both literary and figurative. He's got a wide imagination, a never-squelching desire for knowledge, and a big heart. That is a dangerous combination for a somewhat intelligent and never-quiet man.

She's a saint, his girlfriend, and Ginny made a point to always express that to her. "How do you put up with that all the time?" Gesturing to Fred, who was using his hands in elaborate motions as he went on his fourth rant of the morning on the same subject to George. She'd only shrug, lips engulfing another spoonful of whatever ice cream the girls were sharing. "In one ear and out the other darling."

Not to say that she hates it, or that it bothers her- quite the opposite actually. Fred's excited and hyper personality is what made him so interesting to her, it was what drew her to him in the first place. She enjoys listening to him rant, even about the most random things -he stopped her the other day and explained in great detail how penguins mate and how once the female accepts the male's proposing gestures, they're together for life- and she adores it.

Yes, it sure can be a bit much at times, but she wouldn't change it for the world. Imagine loving a man who was as boring and dry as his older brother, Percy? She would have to jump out of Ginny's bedroom window!

Today was her first day back in the Burrow from Hogwarts for summer break, and she was exhausted, to say the least. She was up from dawn, finishing up the last bits of her packing before leaving for the train station with Harry, Hermione, and Ron. And because she's a good friend, she made sure each of her friends made it to their transportation safely before she and Ron were picked up by Fred and George.

In the car, Ron opened the untameable can of worms by mentioning Bill who was staying over at the Burrow for the summer as well, taking a couple of months' worth of vacation away from the dragons and such. That was the spark Fred needed to blast off into a hundred rants one after the other.

He spoke about seeing Bill again, which is understandable, he hasn't been home in years. He spoke about the dragons, which led to his excited mention of his favorites and how he's going to ask Bill how it was training them. Then he turned to Quidditch training, and even though both him and George had left Hogwarts a year or so ago, the both of them still found time to play the game as a side hobby. After that was all done, George gave her and Ron and update on the shop, and Fred went on and on about all kinds of new candies and flavors and combinations they were working on to add to the store by the beginning of next year.

She was understandably tired by the time the Burrow came into view. And as much as she adores her boyfriend, she needed him to shut the fuck up for twenty minutes. But he's so sweet, and his eyes light up when talking, and he gets this beautiful energy surrounding him when he does it that she doesn't have the nerve to ask him to be silent for a bit. So she excuses herself and tries to bury her body under the covers of his bed.

But he finds her there, and he reports to her that dinner is ready, and that Bill is here, and that she looks so gorgeous on his bed, and that there's a strange animal in the backyard, and that Ginny tried to curse the bathroom when he went in to use it, and that he doesn't understand why she'd do that, and that George is out in the garage, and that-

She jolts up on his bed, her eyes twitching as she stares at him. He looks so beautiful, but he's talking too damn much. She cups his face, and he goes silent and stares at her with wide eyes.

"Wha'?" He mumbled, his lips squished together as she squeezed his cheeks.

"You talk too much, ya' know that?" She said, her thumb slightly caressing the apples of his cheeks.

He opens and closes his mouth like a fish out of water, and tilts his head ever so slightly. "Do' it bothe' yo'?"

She giggles breathlessly and lets go of his face before pressing her lips tightly against his. "Not all the time, but times like today..." She rests her forehead against his and sighs, "It can be a lot, and I need you to read the room and tone it down a little bit, d'ya think you can do that for me?"

He stares, something in his gaze changes, and he nods. "Of course, baby. Whateva' you want."

Great. Now she feels bad. She sighs and pushes past the blankets swallowing her to sit up on her knees. She wraps her arms around his shoulders and pulls him into a hug. "I love you, truly love you, and I don't mean to be mean to you, and you know I love it when you ramble, but I'm really overwhelmed today, darling. I'm sorry."

Fred wraps his arms around her waist in return, hugging her tightly. It's true that he can't always read the room, and now that he's no longer attending school he's got much more free time on his hands than he knows what to do with. It takes him a couple days to be able to read his girlfriend's body language like he used to once she's home from school, and he feels terrible that he was one of the reasons for making her feel so incredibly overwhelmed. He also feels slightly ashamed of his non-stop rambling all day.

He buried his face in the crook of her neck, mumbling something into her skin that made her shiver and giggle away from him. "Stop," she breathes in a giggle, "It tickles."

He chuckles, his hands squeezing at the skin of her waist as he stares at her dreamily. "I said, I'm sorry I made you feel overwhelmed, I promise to try and do better."

She grins at him, so brilliantly, that he can't help but lean down and capture her lips in a soaring kiss. "I love you." He mumbles against her lips, and she smiles while trying to kiss him back. "C'mon now, love, let's go have dinner."

Her eyes darken; her pupils widen, and she smiles that mischievous grin that he adores so much, and he groans while throwing his head back. He knows exactly what is on her mind.

"I have a better idea." She whispers, giggling as she throws herself into his lap and kisses him with such force that she's pushing him down on his bed. He yelps, his hands traveling to the bed and her waist, holding on to her for stability. Bubbling heat travels across his body through her kiss, and he sighs when her cold fingertips trace down his arms, sending goosebumps across his body.

Her kisses transfer from his lips to the sides of his mouth, his cheeks, down his jawline, until she's pampering open-mouthed kisses across his neck like stardust.

He sighs, his eyes closed and his head thrown back on the pillow. "Please," He breathed, a low whine undertoning his voice. She shivers above him, her teeth grazing his skin in a teasing bite.

She's always hated the effect his voice has on her.

"Please what, darling?"

He whines. It's low, for her ears only, it's a barely-there breath, but his mouth is right next to her ear and she hears him loud and clear. Her panties dampen almost immediately.

"Please touch me," He whispers. His hands gripped tightly to her thighs. He knows better than to roam her body without permission. She pulls back slightly, blinking up at him with a soft smile and long lashes. "But I am touching you, Freddie."

He knows this game. This cruel, cruel game she adores to play. He whines in pretentious of hating his role, but his hips buck, and his cock twitches underneath the fabrics of his boxers and trousers.

He slowly traces one of his hands from her thighs to her palm before letting her fingers rest on his aching cock. He guides her hands to gently rub him through his clothes and he lets out a breath when her fingers squeeze around him. "Touch me there." He gasps.

She entertains him, allowing him to set the pace and buck into her hold. He releases deep breaths and low whines, stuttering moans every time she tightens her grip around him. She can feel herself getting wetter by the second, how his eyes are shut desperately, his teeth bite down on his bottom lip, and her name is gasped out of his throat with every other movement. It makes her feel powerful, it makes her entire being vibrate.

"That's enough." She mumbles, pulling her hand out of his grasp and bathing in his complaining whines as she pulls off her shirt. He blinks up at her, watching her boobs bounce in the push-up bra she's wearing before she unhooks it and slides it off her shoulders. He blinks again and swallows whatever drool and saliva has gathered in his mouth, causing his Adam's apple to pop along with the action. She smiles at the sight and quickly bends down to leave a swift kiss on it.

"Take off your shirt." She commands him, and he does so without hesitation, throwing the garment somewhere on the floor of the room he shares with his twin brother. He watches her hands intensely as she teases him by running her thumb on the inside of her trouser's elastic, before slowly pulling the item down and off. He groans at the sight of his favorite panties on her; a partially lacey red thong that settles up between her butt cheeks. She always told him how uncomfortable it made her, but the look on his face when he saw it on her made every second she spent wearing it worth it.

"You're trying to kill me, love?" He groans, daring himself to take a dangerous leap and push his thumb against the damp cloth, pushing down on where he knows her clit hides. He glances up at her, watching the way her lips part and her mouth hangs open at his action.

"And what am I to tell George when he asks? Death by a red thong?"

He grins up at her, picking up the speed at which he's rubbing on her bud of nerves. "Only if you're the one wearing it."

She shudders, forcefully holding herself back from grinding against his thumb. Instead, she grips his wrist and pushes it away from her. She hooks two fingers on each side of his trousers and boxers before meeting his eyes, watching as he licks his lips and nods before pulling the clothing items down his hips and legs.

His cock bounces out from underneath the fabric happily, it smacks against his lower abdomen and she giggles at the sight of precum beads rolling down his slit. He whines, throwing his arm on his face to cover the embarrassing blush that matched his hair color. "Don't laugh at me, why're you so mean to me today?"

Her giggle grows louder, and she leans down to push his arm off his face. "I never intend on being mean to you, my darling, you just bring it out of me. I'm sorry." She mumbles as she meets his gaze, her hand cupping one side of his face and he leans towards her touch. "Don't hide from me, yeah?"

He nods.

"Good boy."

He whines, his eyes squeeze shut and his jaw drops when her fingers wrap around him again, but her thumb is collecting his precum before spreading it down his length before she works a steady rhythm going up and down. His whines slowly turn into moans. His noises were so heavenly that she could swear her wetness was flowing through the fabric of her thong and onto the skin of her thighs.

She sees his muscles contracting and she stops, removing her hand from him altogether. He opens his eyes, blinking up at her in confusion as a noise of complaint slips out of his throat. But he swallows it back up when he sees her push her thong to the side and spread her folds before sitting on his length, and she grinds back and forth on him without actually allowing him access to her.

He groans, throwing his head back. She's coating him in her juices and there's a delicious squelching noise coming from between them and it's driving him insane. He sucks air into his lungs through clenched teeth and shudders when she allows a single moan to slip through her parted lips.

Suddenly, he's engulfed in her warmth and he hisses. His hands grip tightly to her thighs, hips, and any plump skin he can find. He squeezes her, hissing, and pants until he's sheathed completely inside of her. "Slow down," He gasps, "Slow- slow down, slow down, slow down." His voice turns from low breaths to almost high-pitched whines, and she leans down and captures his lips in a silencing kiss.

"Need you to lay here and keep your pretty mouth shut, darling, can you do that? Can you stay quiet for me so your family doesn't hear us fucking?" He whines, hips bucking into her warm cunt causing his eyes to roll to the back of his head as he nods mindlessly. "Yes, yes, yes. I'll be quiet. Fuck- please, baby, please fuck me."

She giggles at his desperate whines, and slowly rocks her hips back and forth, just enough movement to send pleasure jolts but not enough to get them going. She was testing the waters, trying to see how loud he could get without giving him much of anything.

Fred was losing his mind, he could feel her walls clamp down on him every time she moved back, and he could feel himself nudging against her feel-good spot every time she moved forward. Her wetness made a mess out of both of them, making it easy to slide into her and pick up the pace.

He arched his back slightly, just enough to hint at her to go faster. Because she was starting to feel frustrated, she obliged. She switched from grinding down on him to bouncing, her knees and hips working overtime to not make a noise every time her ass cheeks met his thighs.

She's now moaning, leaning down to muffle her noises by his neck or breathe them directly into his ear. Fred's eyes roll to the back of his head every time, and his hands grab onto the fat of her hips to help her.

"I-" She gasps, pushing herself upwards, clamping down on him tightly before forcing deep thrusts with her movement. "I'm gonna cum." She whimpers, and her legs begin to shake and fail her. Fred let out a loud breath that turned into a whimper before pushing himself up and, with a tight hold of her hips, forced her up and down his cock.

"Wa- wanna feel you. Wanna feel you gush around me. Give it to me, please." He whines, his words muffled into her temple, his eyes closed as her walls flutter around him, her body shivering against him and her lips part in long whines. One of his hands sneaked in between them, and his thumb drew quick circles around her clit, just enough to electrify her over the edge.

She freezes up, squeezes down on him and Fred is gone. He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her tightly down on him, the repeated squeeze of her walls stimulated him over the edge and they were shaking through their highs together. Her hands were buried in his hair, his hands holding onto her hips, while their lips interlocked in an overflowing kiss.

A few seconds later, their mouths parted as they gasped for air, holding onto one another as their highs dwindled. He traced random shapes on her bare back while she scratched at his scalp in a way she knew he loved.

He was the first to pull back, looking up at her with nothing but love and adoration. He tilts his head and grins, "Do you still want to go down for dinner?"

She laughs, heartily and loudly out of his arms and back onto the bed. "If you'll be going downstairs for a plate, get me one with you. There's no way I can look your mum in the eye after this."

[jaelvr]

You were beautiful

Home | NCT 127 masterlist |

Requested : no

Prompts ; 51. “Please, just stay a little longer.”  + 54. “Please don’t cry.”  + 50.  “I love you. Never forget that, okay?” 

Pairing : ex! doyoung x reader

Pronouns : you/yours

Type : angst, fluff

Word count : 1.2k

Warnings : mutual feelings, exes to lovers, idol! au, slightly ooc

Have a great day !! 

——————————

"The things I'm about to tell you, aren't so you change what's already on your mind."

He looked through his bag, searching for the letter he'd been given earlier in the day. They'd had a fan meet for their newest comeback, something they were used to by now. Getting presents and letters was nothing new, but there was something about this one he couldn't quite put his finger on. It felt familiar - like a home of some kind. The writing seemed familiar to him and the person in front of him, despite not being able to clearly make them out, was someone he'd known - he was sure of it. He pulled the letter out, wasting no time in opening it to read it.

"It's just that I keep thinking about all the melodies you made asleep at night."

He got up carefully, not wanting to disturb you too much. A lovestruck smile on his face as he looked at your figure next to him, taking in your peaceful expression and how the sun lightly shone on your face, making you look like an angel. Doyoung leaned down, placing a gentle kiss upon your forehead, thumb softly caressing your cheek. He got up and stretched, about to head into the bathroom when he heard a tired yawn and eyes peering over at him. "Good luck today. I love you." you murmured, a sleepy smile on your face as you battled sleep to stay awake. "I love you too, sunshine. I'll see you later." he promised, pressing a delicate kiss to your lips and watching you for a few seconds before heading into the bathroom to get ready for practice. He could always get through the day if it meant coming home to you.

"I keep trying to forget but you were beautiful."

He thought back on it, remembering the way the pair of you would look at each other with absolute love. It was clear to anyone who saw you two how deep the connection truly ran. They'd been celebrating one of the comebacks, throwing a party to congratulate them. He'd come over when you were watching Jungwoo and Haechan drunkenly sing along to songs on the karaoke machine, wrapping his arms around your waist and pressing fragile kisses to your neck. "Hey Doie." you grinned, turning around and wrapping your arms around his neck.

"You alright?" he muttered, brushing hair out of your face while his other hand gently ran circles across your hip. You let out a hum of content, nuzzling into his chest. "I'm so proud of you." you whispered, looking up at him with complete admiration and love, his face mirroring the same. "I couldn't have done it without you." he admitted, kissing your forehead. The way you looked at him made him never want to leave, always needing to either be next to you or have you close by. The way you called his name and how addictive he found it. You felt like home.

"I keep thinking about how we used to be. God, I just hate this part."

You'd known something was off the minute he'd walked through the door. He had said nothing, having a shower and getting into his pyjamas before curling up in bed, silent. You'd crawled in beside him, simply holding him and rubbing his back as his tears escaped, your embrace tight and not letting go of him. "You're okay. I've got you, love." you whispered, your head on top of his as you rubbed his back. You didn't force him to talk, simply letting him take his time and if he didn't want to talk about it at all, you never pushed him to. You stayed with him all night, comforting him in the morning as you caressed and planted kisses all over his tear-stained face, not making a deal or pressing on the issue. Just wanting to be there for him to soothe him.

"Think I've cried more than I had imagined."

The scene taunted him constantly whenever he couldn't fall asleep. The look on your face when he'd uttered the cursed six words. Doyoung was almost convinced he'd heard your heart shatter at his words. He wasn't sure what had broken him more between your desperate pleas to not leave or the tears that streamed down your face. “Please don’t cry.” he pleaded, his own tears falling. He wanted to tell you he was joking or he'd changed his mind, but he couldn't. He wanted to stay but knew it wasn't possible.

Not with him being an idol. He couldn't. He laid awake that night, your face and his actions constantly haunting him, knowing the pain he'd caused which he tried to ignore, convincing himself it was for the better. He'd give anything to go back to how you two were before, his heart hurting more as he read over the letter, realising you'd forgiven him despite the damage he'd caused you.

"'Cause the last time that you looked at me, I did all I could, I watched you leave."

He refused. He got up, and quickly headed to the entrance of the dorm, pulling his coat on and tying his shoes on. "Doyoung? Where are you going?" Taeyong questioned, looking at his phone which read eleven o'clock. "The letter." he murmured once his shoes were done, Taeyong looking at him in confusion as he pushed the letter into his best friend's hands. "They were there. They gave it to me today at the fan meet." he hurriedly explained. Taeyong skimmed through, the end of the letter catching his eye. Besides the “I love you. Never forget that, okay?” was a scrawled sunshine. The nickname Doyoung always referred to you as. Taeyong looked back up, a small smile on his face as he knew what he was doing. He nodded, squeezing Doyoung's shoulder before he left, bidding him a gentle 'good luck'.

"All the things you gave to stay with me."

Once he'd gotten there, he anxiously knocked on the door. He prayed you hadn't moved otherwise he'd look like an absolute idiot - not that he wouldn't already. His breath hitched as the door to the familiar apartment opened, words escaping him as he took in your look in front of him. You were in your pyjamas, your hair slightly messy with your natural beauty. "You look beautiful." he got out, hesitantly stepping forward, afraid of your reaction. Relief consumed him as he felt you step forward, resting your head on his chest, soaking his shirt with your tears. He gently caressed the back of your head, the other resting on your back as he gripped you tightly, almost trying to assure himself he wasn't dreaming and he was actually here.

"I'm sorry. It doesn't feel right without you. I miss you. I miss the way you looked at me. I miss the way you called my name. I miss your smiles when we'd disagree, I-" he rambled, eyes widening as he felt you lean up, kissing him quickly yet lovingly. “Please, just stay a little longer.” you whispered a sad smile on your face. He cupped your face, pressing a kiss to your forehead.

"I'm not leaving this time."

[6okuto]

LEAVING LATE AT NIGHT

bokuto + gn!reader | established relationship, fluff

personally i would Not try to go alone. but you know. gotta write what you gotta write for the fic prompt

“kou?” you gently shake bokuto’s shoulder. your boyfriend had fallen asleep in the middle of your show and you didn't have the heart to wake him up; there was something comically adorable about him curled into you, tucked under a fuzzy blanket. but you were hungry, and you knew there was no more of your favourite snacks in the kitchen.

kotaro's eyes stay closed, but he hums at the sound of your voice. “hm?”

“’m gonna go get some food, okay?”

“okay,” he replies quietly. his arms unwrap from your waist and groggily, he reaches up for the side table where his wallet rests. “d’you have—do you wanna use my card?”

“no, it’s fine, it’ll just be some snacks," you promise. the both of you shift so you can get up, and you make sure to leave a quick kiss on his nose before moving to get ready.

“m’kay.” he exhales and moves to lay on his back, rubbing his eyes to wake up a little more. his voice is raspy when he speaks. “when did i fall asleep? what time is it?”

“you fell asleep an hour ago—i paused the episode by the way. it’s almost 10 i think?”

“oh, ’kay.” kotaro hums again. there’s a beat of silence as he listens to you put your shoes on and wonders how he fell asleep, but he shoots up a second later after finally processing your response. “wait, what?”

“i’ll be back soon, love you,” you call out, disregarding the sound of him pushing the blanket off of himself and it hitting the floor.

“what, no, what? baby, what—” he trips a little as he reaches for his phone on the coffee table in front of him. the brightness makes him squint, but he stutters again when he sees the 9:54 pm staring back at him.

“kou—”

“i’m coming with you, hold on. lemme put on my shoes, wait,” he cuts you off frantically. there’s a second where he notices he isn’t wearing socks, nor is there a pair nearby, and he reaches for his slip ons instead. 

“kou, you don’t have to, seriously,” you try not to laugh as he brushes his fingers through his messy hair.

“yeah i do,” he says while walking past you to reach his jacket. he only stops for a second so he can pull you in to plant a kiss on your forehead. bokuto looks at you, and he seems a little bit out of breath, but he still tells you matter-of-factually, “i’m your boyfriend.”

there’s little you can do other than watch him get ready with a small frown. you try to reassure him again, “it’s okay. you’re tired, kou. i’ll be fine–”

“no, i’m coming with you,” he says determined. “you don’t know what could happen this late. what if there’s someone dangerous, or like, a super big monster?”

“a what?” you snort. “i think the show got to you, baby. also what would you do against a monster?”

“well, maybe, but i’m just saying! you don’t know when you could be proof of the supernatural in a 7 eleven parking lot. and obviously i'd distract it until you got the car going and i'd jump in.”

the both of you look at each other, and you open and close your mouth trying to think of a response. because despite his words, and how his brows are furrowed and his mouth in a pout, bokuto's tone in genuinely concerned.

the store isn’t far, you’ve made the 5 minute trip yourself before. and you're sure if you wanted to stand your ground, promise to text or call, he'd (begrudgingly) stay behind. but it was bokuto. you never really rejected more time together, and you're not sure why you'd start now—even if it was only a 15 minute snack run.

so you admit defeat, exhale and smile softly at him. “okay, yeah, you’re right. maybe not the monster part, i hope, but, thank you.”

bokuto's expression quickly turns into a grin before he grabs the car keys. his other hand finds its way into yours, just as warm as usual. he pulls you along to unlock the front door, a bounce in his step as if he didn't just wake up. “did you wanna pass by a drive-thru? i’ll pay.”

🏷 | @devilgirlcrybabiey @lordbugs @smiithys @xfangirl-trashx @passionateuchiha @scaramouchesfootstool @fifteenshadesofpinkk @lotus-sukimono @chloee0x0 @kenmaslov3r @bakugosgrenade @sakusasdirtyragdoll @dai-tsukki-desu @Thathoneybee3 @momoewn @aintgeluh @dazaisfavgf @simpforerenn @crystal-lilac @vhenis @omiigad @kur0-kawa @semispilledcoffee @idontlikeyourjob @awkwardaardvarkforever @rory-cakes @prblmtc @dimslover @kuroaka @sunaslay @h0n3ysgh0st @lackey-laufeyson @bontensbabygirl @dira333 @the-b-u-n-n-y @Kamukayakmonyet @danyisapingu @isentsworld @lilithlunas @anime-ships-gay @todorokiskitten

[mypoisonedvine]

32:"I wish they could all know about us." 48:"there's no way that was just a one-night thing." 54:"just one more kiss?" With Thomas Shelby, Raymond Leon or Ernst Schmidt

-❄

oh my gosh I've been wanting an excuse to write for ernst for ages!

warnings: smut (18+ only!!), secret relationship, semi-public sex, a bit of marking kink?, cocky lil shit ernst with a fluffy side

100 random prompts - send me a number and a character!

You could feel his eyes on you as you worked-- it was distracting, even though you were pretending to ignore it, and you had to put all your energy into looking like you were actually being productive so he wouldn't interrupt you.

Which, a few minutes of silence later, he did anyways. "So, are we going to talk about it, or--?"

"No," you said firmly.

"O-okay," he agreed, looking back at his own work.

That silence only lasted for about ten seconds.

"I want to talk about it," he announced.

"I don't care," you frowned, turning to face him, "we said we wouldn't talk about it. There's nothing to talk about."

"Nothing?" he repeated with a scoff. "That's what it meant to you, nothing?!"

"No, I didn't say that, of course it meant something, I just--" you began, but stopped yourself when you realized what you were doing, and he smiled proudly.

"See? See what I did there? I made you talk about it," he explained smugly, "and now we're talking about it. Was that so hard?"

You wondered if he meant to say that-- to say exactly what he'd said to you two nights ago. Of course, he'd said it pretty differently then: he'd told you he was going to make you come a third time, and you swore up and down you couldn't do it again-- but then after a few minutes you were clawing helplessly at the sheets under you, sobbing his name, shaking all over. Was that so hard? he'd asked you, mocking how quickly you'd fallen apart for him.

So, yes, your heart sort of skipped a beat when he said that, and your thighs pressed against each other-- he noticed, clearly, since he glanced down at your legs and back up at you with a smile, but thankfully he didn't call you out.

"We can talk about it," you offered, making him perk up, "later."

He sighed again. "And how am I supposed to be productive when all I can think about is this conversation in the indefinite future?"

You rolled your eyes. "I don't know-- just figure it out, okay! We can't talk here, in case someone comes in..."

His eyebrow raised. "So that's what you're afraid of, then. Of anyone finding out."

"W-well, yeah, of course," you replied. "It would make everything so much more... complicated. And I'd never hear the end of it-- and think of how hard I work to be taken seriously around here. Can you imagine if some of those guys knew about it? They'd probably think I only became an engineer to sleep around-- or think they have a chance with me, too. I just can't handle that right now."

He nodded, stepping a bit closer to you. "You're right. I hate that you're right, but you're right."

"It's not that I'm... ashamed of it-- or of you," you offered, lowering your voice a bit. "You understand, right?"

He reached forward, a hand resting on your waist which made your heart skip again-- the way he'd held you that night, keeping you pressed up against him, touching you everywhere he could reach-- "Of course I understand," he said, breaking you out of the memory. "It's just a shame... I wish they could all know about us."

You looked up at him, smirking a bit. "Us?" you repeated. "Who said anything about us? We just hooked up one time, that's it."

His hand slid up from your waist to your back, pulling you into him. You knew you should push him away-- you had your hands on his chest, prepared to if you heard anyone coming by-- but you were too caught up in the warmth of him, the smell of his cologne, the way he was looking at you right then. "There's no way that was just a one-night thing," he said, almost a hint of anger in his voice-- of incredulousness, that you could even suggest that. "You were there, you know what it was like."

"What was it like?" you challenged.

"Perfect," he answered instantly, making your face heat up.

"Well, I don't know about that," you hummed, "there was that time where I accidentally kicked you. Or the part when you stopped for water and totally spilled it all over your bed."

"No, that was all perfect, too," he decided.

"You didn't mind sleeping on a wet patch?"

"Darling, you'd already made one."

You choked on your own throat, looking away to try to collect yourself. He smiled and used the opportunity to hook a finger into the neckline of your uniform, tugging it down a bit and humming proudly.

"My mark is still there," he noticed. "You're welcome, by the way-- for only leaving them where no one would see."

"No, there was one here," you corrected, placing your finger on a certain place on your neck, "I covered it with makeup."

"Oh! Impressive," he nodded, "I wouldn't have noticed-- right here, you said?"

His finger traced the place, and you nodded.

"Hmm, this spot right here?" he repeated, voice softer, moving closer.

Your eyes fell shut as he latched his lips onto it again, you mouth falling into a quiet sigh. "E-Ernst, I told you, we can't--"

You cut yourself off with a whine as he grabbed your hips, guiding you back to sit up on the console; your legs instinctively wrapped around him as his teeth grazed your pulse again, and he growled quietly.

"What if someone c-comes in, and sees us?" you panted, holding tight onto his shoulders.

"Let them," he purred. "They'd have to see it to believe it, anyways: how beautiful you look like this... how easily you give in to me..."

"Fuck," you whimpered, your back arching when his tongue traced a line up your neck.

"I still can't believe it," he continued, "everything you let me do to you, how perfect you feel inside. It's like you were made to take me."

"God damn it, Schmidt, don't talk like that," you hissed, using a commanding tone that he was much more familiar with from you.

"Are you getting bossy now?" he noticed with a grin, pulling back to look at your face. "I don't mind. You can tell me what to do."

Your heart pounded but your brain, finally, took control. "Fine, here's what you should do: stop. Before we do something really, really fucking stupid."

He smiled a bit, and nodded. "Okay-- you're right. We shouldn't."

You sighed with relief, and he pulled back slightly, though not enough to let you get off of the console.

"But before we stop, just one more kiss?" he pleaded, giving you those cute puppy eyes you couldn't resist.

"Sure," you agreed, smiling as he leaned in closer-- but he stopped, and his hands were suddenly opening your uniform's belt. "Wh-what are you--?"

"Sorry, darling," he winked, "but you didn't specify where to kiss you. So I chose myself."

Your head fell back with a sigh as he sunk to his knees in front of you. "F-fuck, Ernst, you can't be serious-- if someone saw us--"

"Don't worry," he purred as he started to tug your trousers down, "if this goes anything like last time, it shouldn't take me very long."

[sabrgirl]

things that aren't inherently islamic but have improved my deen ♡

practising mindfulness

mindfulness meditation (focusing on my breathing for 10-15 minutes a day and bringing my attention back to my breath every time my mind wanders) helps with concentration in salah. through practising this every day, you're able to bring your attention back to the moment much better as you train your brain to do so with your breath.

helps to ground myself in the moment rather than stress about the future and past - allows me to surrender to Allah سُبْحَٰنَهُۥ وَتَعَٰلَىٰ much better and have tawakkul and sabr by learning to enjoy each day as it comes

journalling

shadow work

islam is fundamentally based on disciplining and self-regulating the nafs/ego. if you do not discipline your nafs, you will end up inclining towards evil: '‘And I do not hold my own self (nafs) to be free from weakness; for, the soul is surely prone to enjoin evil, except that whereon my Lord has mercy. Surely, my Lord is Most Forgiving, Merciful.’ (12:54). it was a saying by many elder islamic scholars and early muslims that 'he who knows himself knows His Lord'.

shadow work is when you address the hidden parts of yourself that we naturally and/or subconsciously suppress inside because we don't like them. the ego/nafs does this. you can find journal prompts on google, for eg 'shadow work prompts for anxious attachment' or 'shadow work prompts for male validation' etc - whatever it is you know is a problem about you. or, if you don't know where to start, just type in 'shadow work prompts' on google and you'll find something for you

through understanding in more detail what my ego does through addressing my fears in life and hardship/trauma i've experienced, i'm able to let go of those parts of myself, make an action plan to do things differently and become a better person. as a result, i'm able to make better decisions based off of righteousness and what pleases Allah, rather than acting based off of what scares my ego.

for eg - something happened when i was young that made me have an internal fear of being replaced which i had *no* idea i had. yet, i was acting on this fear subconciously, as i've always wanted to be original and i've had such distinct/original things that other people don't usually have so that i can stand out and it can become impossible to replace me. i was doing this so subconsiously but my nafs/ego was scared inside. when people asked me 'where is that from?' i wouldn't want them to know and would become very upset if they tried to 'copy me'. it wasn't until my best friend wanted to know where my perfume was from and i didn't want to tell her and ended up arguing with her that i realised i have a problem. i did shadow work and journalled about it to figure out why i'm acting this way. after doing this shadow work, it led me back to that big change in my life when i was a child and i realised that it hurt my ego a lot and resulted in me having a big fear of being replaced, with the outcome being i want to stand out and have things that are my own that it becomes so hard for someone to be me. after addressing and realising this, i've now let go of that fear and that part of me. i'm much more kinder to the creation now when they ask me where something i have/am wearing is from and, as i feel much more peaceful inside, i tell them where it's from with genuineness and sincerity. doing this can help with so many internal behaviours like jealousy, anxiety, being unhappy when other people get something you want, anger, attachments to people, love etc.

shadow work helps me get rid of attachments to worldly things and people (as the ego gets attached easily) after understanding why i am / why i act in a certain way too

gratitude

gratitude journalling helps me be thankful to Allah for what he has done for me. in hardship, i'm able to recognise the good that i still have. i've written more about how this has helped my deen here.

writing my feelings when i'm angry and/or upset

helps me process my emotions better and not act on my feelings by being rude to others in the moment

prevents me from backbiting and gossiping bc i just journal about how people have made me feel. backbiting is when you slander someone behind their back to someone else. through journalling, if i'm upset, i can write down my feelings, i can call people losers and get it all out of my system because it's just to myself, no one will read it. after this, why do i need to go to someone else and gossip? i don't need to. i've already released it all.

yoga and pilates

the physical body, mind and soul are all linked. as shown in the book, 'the philosophy of the teachings of islam':

this means that exercising our body affects our mind and soul too. science has shown that trauma and stress is stored in the shoulders and other parts of our body. having movement and especially exercises like yoga that focuses on stretching, flexibility, breathing and regulating blood flow in the body releases this emotional baggage.

islam is a religion of discipline that requires effort. when you feel good inside, you're more likely to be more disciplined and put in the effort, as opposed to when you feel bad inside which can often lead to laziness and fatigue. doing yoga and releasing my stress through exercising and stretching helps me feel positive and good inside, enabling me to fulfil my religious duties better with a positive mind and body. in islam, maintaining physical health is highly encouraged and our Beloved Prophet ﷺ emphasised having a strong and healthy body.

[dawnoftime22]

For Taylor Swift, could you do one where the reader is taking care of her when she is sick or Taylor is taking care of the reader when they are sick?

cold.

| T.S

Warnings: Taylor feeding R soup/a piece of sandwich, saying no to medicine, sore throat, coughing fits and fever

Summary: When the morning comes and you felt sick, Taylor was already up, deciding your breakfast. But when she realizes you were down with a cold, she quickly jumps to taking care of you.

Word Count: 3k

Category: fluff!

A/N: I'm so sorry for how late I am for this!! my motivation was down and I ended up accidentally doing this while I'm sick too, but I hope you enjoy this! I don't know if you're currently sick (or if you were), but I hope you're getting better :]

| Started on 15/07/2024, 8:28 PM |

| Finished on 28/07/2024, 10:54 PM |

Main Masterlist | T.S Masterlist

"Taking my time, I'll show you the care I hold for you within my heart. Just how gentle. Just how soft, this love is.”

|——————————— ⸆⸉ ———————————|

It was quiet as Taylor stood in the kitchen, looking down on her phone. Her hand was on the cold metal of the fridge, having just finished writing down the tasks she needed to do, the paper now pinned on the fridge door.

At the side, the windows radiated a warmthness from them, the orange of the mornings that could never be beaten by anything else. The sunshine floods through the kitchen, sinking down from the marble counters and to the wooden floorboards.

In the distance, Taylor hears a small sneeze coming from the bedroom. She takes a small glance, but didn't take more mind to it as she focuses on looking through the refridgerator, trying to figure out what to make from the ingredients she already has.

She tries looking through the recipe book, trying to find more ideas rather than just going through the list of meals she can remember off the top of her head, but nothing came up as a big interest.

Instead, another thought pops up in her mind. You. "Baby, what do you want for breakfast?" she asks, her volume a little louder so you could hear her from across the room.

You were in the bedroom, staying laid in bed. Honestly, you woke up only a few minutes ago, your body realizing the missing presence of the familiar blonde. But that wasn't the worst of it. Your throat instantly felt weird, and you hid in the covers to shield yourself from the cold. Yet, no amount of changing your positions would help.

The door was open, Taylor's doing from the morning in case you thought she went to work from being up so early. Also just in case anything happens and she would need to run in to check on you. Right now? Sure, it isn't an emergency, but you felt like you would need her right in front of you without more time wasted.

"I don't know, you choose..." You tried replying with a bit of volume, even while your voice didn't want to be on your side today. Or, well, your throat, so she heard you, but your words didn't form anything.

Taylor blinks for a moment, trying to process what you said, but nothing seemed to form in her head. "I can't hear you!" she says, slowly closing the old recipe book with a crinkle of its spine. She went to turn around and was about to go towards the bedroom, but then she saw you, walking out.

You drag your feet, your posture slumped as you gently rub the edges of your eye. Taylor's expression soften at the adorable appearance, and she doesn't take long to round the island and go to you, her arms opening to wrap around your warm body.

She gazes down at you, a smile growing on her face as she tilts her head. "What'd you say, honey?" she asks softly, her hand reaching to move your hair back.

You let out a breath and swallow the weird feeling in your throat before gaining the courage to talk, your own arms going to return her embrace, but also to hold onto her.

"...anything that's soft...please," you whisper, your voice croaky and strained, something she noticed instantly. Taylor looks at you with concern, a thought coming to her that the warmness radiating off your body was starting to look like it wasn't just from you being in bed.

She leans back, wanting to take a look at your face. Your eyes held a sort of tiredness to them when they look up at her, but you did just wake up earlier, so she questions herself of her assumptions.

"...Are you sick, baby?" she asks, searching your face. Your lips were just slightly pouted, and the way you sniffled absolutely gave it away. Once you nod, it was confirmed.

"Aw...sweetheart." She murmurs, feeling you lean back into her, burying your face in her chest. She held a body heat, and it was all you wanted, after being so cold in the empty bed.

Taylor thinks about it for a couple minutes, trying to sift through the meals you'd like whenever you were sick. It was difficult, but not impossible.

"...Do you want soup?" she says gently, looking down at you again as you thought about it. But then you inhaled a breath, feeling the tickle of your nose. Soon, you sneeze off to the side, ensuring the germs barely hits Taylor.

She smiles, even though her expression held worry. "Bless you," she says, seeing you take a deep breath, and smiling back at her when you heard her words.

"Thank you," you whispered, leaning back in to her. Your arms were wrapped around her still, holding onto the warmth.

"Do you want soup, love?" Taylor asks gently, repeating her question in case you couldn't focus on what she said due to your sneeze.

But your fingers gently clutch further onto the fabric of her shirt, and you shook your head, resisting even the thought of any food passing by your painful throat.

Taylor's concern rises, but still her mind continues to go on for you, searching for words. She moves her hand up and down your back to comfort you in any way possible.

"It'll be warm, and it can soothe your throat," she whispers, looking down at you with the hopes that her gentle voice can help you find some courage. But with the quietness you went with, it was unlikely you were budging.

"You can eat it with bread too, if you'd like," Taylor adds, awaiting your response. You stay buried in her chest, trying to decide.

With the way her hand was comfortingly moving on your back, you gave in, and eventually succumb to a nod, one barely visible unless Taylor had been watching extremely closely, and she was.

Taylor smiles softly and pulls back, seeing your face that still held hesitancy. "Chicken soup, yeah?" she asks, her hand traveling up to touch your cheek gently, her thumb gently caressing your skin.

You look into her loving eyes and nod again, this time more visibly. The blonde's heart lightens at the sight of you agreeing, and her smile grew wider.

"Alright, just wait a few minutes." She murmurs, leaning down to kiss the top of your head before pulling away, but right before she could slip from your embrace, you let out the smallest sound of protest and gently grab her hand, causing her to turn back to you, quickly picking up on how you wanted her to stay with you.

"Shh, its okay, I'm just going to make you your soup." Her palm gently trails up to the back of your head, her other hand rested on your back. You most definitely didn't want to leave her side, especially when your body felt weak and was contaminated with sickness.

"How about this, you can watch me make it, hm?" Taylor suggested, looking to your eyes to see whatever thoughts you seemed to have. She slowly tries to pull you to the kitchen, and when you follow without holding your ground, she smiles softly.

She gets everything ready, grabbing the pot and taking the ingredients for the soup from the fridge. As the soup was getting ready on the stove, you stayed by her at all times, your body feverish against her side and your head rested on her shoulder.

She wraps an arm around your waist, her thumb gently brushing, reassuring you through her touches. Your mind was scrambled, unable to focus on just about anything other than the motion at your waist.

Taylor had already made a sandwich for herself, ready in its container to eat later with you in case you needed encouraging with her company.

She heard your sniffling from her side though, and it was the sign of a stuffy nose starting to come into play with your sickness. Her eyes were transfixed on you as her hands went to go through your hair, hearing the sniffling growing more consistent.

She grabs a nearby tissue from the kitchen counter, turning to you to hand it down to you. "Here, love," the blonde whispered. You blink for a second, then took it to wipe your nose and turning away to blow into it.

Taylor watches you with a slightly sympathetic gaze, her hand moving up and down your back. Her eyes flickered from you and the soup that was starting to bubble in the pot.

Deciding its finished cooking, she reaches out with her other hand, lightly stirring the soup before slowing down the heat, and then turning it off completey.

Taylor glances back at you, giving your arm a gentle squeeze to let you know she'll return to being close to you, needing to keep you just a little further from the hot soup. You see her grab out a bowl, and a kitchen cloth to hold on to the small pot's handle so she could slowly pour it out.

The steam from the freshly made soup drifts up, resulting in more warmth entering the space of the kitchen. She puts the pot into the sink, letting the water fill it up slightly to clean later. Then, she picks up the bowl carefully, aware of the heat.

"Can you help bring my sandwich, baby?" she says, nodding towards the transparent container. She watches as your hand goes out, grabbing it from the counter and hugging it to your front as you lean back into her.

She smiles and guides you to the bedroom, trying to keep the soup from spilling with every step being mindful. Once you soon arrive, she lets out a breath of relief, setting the bowl on the nightstand.

You went to sit on the bed, getting comfortable. Taylor turns to look at you before she joins you and gently pulls you to sit in her lap, her legs criss-crossed.

As you try to process at simply being pulled like that, it wasn't long until you gladly accept the change of position. Facing her, you lean into her shoulder, tilting your head to look up at her.

She notices how you gazed up, the look on your face being adorable in her eyes, and her heart warms. Her hand reaches up to brush back your hair with her fingers, being gentle.

"Its gonna be a day full of cuddles, huh?" she asks in a whisper as she looks into your eyes, as if a secret for just the two of you. You let out a giggle and nod, making her light up with a smile herself.

She then grabs the bowl of soup from the nightstand, feeling that it was now less hot to the touch. Knowing you to be hesitant on swallowing anything, she takes ahold of the spoon, blowing on the soup lightly to then take a small sip of it, a hum sounding from her.

She looks to you, her gaze gentle as she lets the soup fill the spoon again. "Its delicious, trust me," she says, bringing it up to your mouth. Although you held full of trust for her, you couldn't trust your throat.

You move back, your lips turning into a straight line as you eyed the spoon, but she keeps her gentle gaze on you.

"Its okay, here, just one sip," she whispers, encouraging you by lightly putting her free hand on your back, the other hand moving forward.

She sees you slowly starting to accept, at least letting the soup touch your lips. Although you didn't fully take it, you had pursed your lips, tasting the chicken flavored soup.

For just a moment, your face relaxes, remembering how delicious it would be whenever she'd cook you things like these. Her hand had drifted back slightly to not force you entirely, but the corners of her lips raise up at seeing your realization. She decides to try again, moving it back towards you slowly.

You hesitate, but she waits patiently. After some seconds, you slowly open your mouth, taking the spoon in and letting the soup enter your mouth.

You hold it for a moment, feeling how warm it was, while at the same time feeling scared to feel the pain surge back. Taylor raises her eyebrows slightly and move her head in a gentle nod, which had you letting it go down your throat.

Just for a second, there was the burning, painful feeling that made you wince, but once it got down and filled your stomach with warmth, it was gone. You let your shoulders relax slowly, looking up to her.

She smiles and picks up the spoon again, helping you get the food in your system slowly. The feel of your cheeks flushing comes up almost as warm as the soup, and Taylor almost wanted to lovingly pinch them from how adorable you looked, even while you're sick.

"Look at you, being brave." She says, watching you chew the small bits and pieces of the chicken in the soup, enjoying the meal, although coughing here and there after swallowing.

"Just take it slow..." she murmurs, soothing you on your back. You eventually get the coughing fit to calm down, and you lean back into her, your cheek gently pressed against her shoulder.

As she gives you time to have some peace, she leans down to lay a gentle kiss on the top of your head. You let your eyes wander slightly, the only sounds going out into the space being of your breaths.

When you look over to the nightstand, you see her sandwich, half eaten, her stolen bites there as she helped feed you your own meal.

She sees your gaze transfixed on it, her eyes flickering from her sandwich and to you. A raise on her lips was paired with her heart jumping in happiness within her chest.

"You want some?" She asks, reaching over to her sandwich. You nod, and she smiles softly, pinching off a part of her sandwich to give to you.

You lean forward, and she puts it in your mouth carefully. She watches you chew it, savouring the taste, and processing if it was good. When you swallow, your face had brightened up slightly.

"Good?" she asks, looking at you curiously in waiting for the thoughts of her meal. You held a more at ease expression, and nod eagerly, happy with the taste, but then soon feeling the itch of a cough and then getting thrown into another fit.

Her eyes widen slightly before she grabs the water bottle from the side, unscrewing the cap for you and then handing it out. "Drink some water...slowly," she offers softly.

You looked up with a slightly pained expression, but you grab the bottle with slightly shaky hands and took a small sip.

You drank a little more water, at least until you calmed down, and you give the bottle back to her, swallowing the water. A breath of relief escapes your mouth as she sets the water bottle back down on the nightstand.

She turns back to you, her finger lightly tracing meaningless patterns on your arm. A few seconds after, she resumes to giving you the soup again, with the hoped that it will be a little more smoother.

Soon, you finished, and she had a smile on her face, the spoon going down on the bowl with a gentle clink. She looks up at you with a proud gaze, gesturing towards the now empty bowl with only the residue of the soup. "There you go, all done."

You saw that Taylor was about to get up, and you nearly let out a small noise of fear and protest, but she stops her movement for a short second.

"I'll still be here, I'm just going to send the dishes to the sink, okay?" she whispers, her hand taking yours to lightly squeeze, then kisses the skin softly. Slowly, she lays down your hand to the bed, patting it reassuringly before carefully holding the plate and bowl, going out the room.

You let out a gentle breath, watching the now empty space, awaiting anytime. It felt like forever, but her familiar blue eyes appear back into the room, meeting yours with a gentle smile, her hands holding a bottle of pills and liquid medicine.

She saw the way you looked at them, her eyes drifting downwards, but going up again, moving the bottles out to you.

"Do you want any medicine, sweetheart?" she asks, tilting her head. Your eyes were bleak and half lidded as you shook your head, curling up a little further in bed. Her eyes soften, and she slowly pulls her hand back.

"Thats okay, we'll just rest," she says, her tone understanding. She puts down the medicine on the bedside table, just in case you change your mind at any given time.

She steps forward, sliding to sit at the edge of the bed once more, her hand moving to push away your strands of hair that had gone out of place.

You gaze up at her, only your eyes having movement, and your chest rising and falling with every one of your breaths. But it then slows down with a deep inhale.

"Tay...?" you whisper out, your voice quiet and weak. Taylor's hand pauses its motion for just a second at the mention of her name from you in such a small voice, before she resumes the motion.

"Yeah, baby?" She whispers back, her gaze down upon you holding tenderness. Her hand was warm, and glided down to your cheek, making you lean into it.

"I'm cold," you mumble, your mouth in a pout. She lets out the smallest chuckle, her thumb going to brush over the tip of your nose ever so slightly in a barely noticeable boop.

"Come here then, honey." she whispers, only wanting to give you all the comfort you needed, rather than anything else but so. You stare at her for a second, contemplating being closer to her within your sickness.

She notices this, and knows you all too well to let it be. She smiles softly and assuringly, giving you an encouraging nod that made your heart soften.

"It's okay, I don't mind getting sick," she says, pulling you in without much pressure, as you slowly give in and let her slide you closer, your face burying into the warmth of her neck.

She kisses you atop the head gently, your hair tickling her nose just a little bit, but she didn't mind.

"Rest..." her hushed voice echoes out into the space of the room, her gentle touch upon your back, either drawing circles or rubbing a soothing motion.

"You'll feel better when you wake up," she says, hoping you'll take her point well. You relax, letting your breaths steady, and she can feel the exhaustion radiating from you, the breath your lungs release portraying your sickness.

"I love you, baby," she whispers out one final time, just a few words for you to hear before you close your eyes, giving in to the heaviness.

"Love you too..." you mumble out, full of sleepiness. She smiles softly, and soon closes her own eyes, too.

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

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[half-dead-writer]

I'm yet to watch Scott Pilgrim but I'm having an obsession on Matthew just by watching the scenes that feature him, god I'm pathetic aha It's kinda bad in some places, I lost patience writing it stoned lmao

Just In Time (NSFW)

Matthew almost catches you doing sinful things in your room, you won't believe what happens next! aka your boyfriend doesn't shame you for being horny, talks it out, gets horny himself.

character: Matthew Patel (Scott Pilgrim Takes Off) words: almost 4k reader: gender neutral (no description of bits) warnings: it's a smut guys

𝔯𝔲𝔩𝔢𝔰 + 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱 / 𝔖𝔠𝔬𝔱𝔱 𝔓𝔦𝔩𝔤𝔯𝔦𝔪 𝔗𝔞𝔨𝔢𝔰 𝔒𝔣𝔣 𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔩𝔦𝔰𝔱

Washing all of your dirty dishes in the sink left you exhausted. You lazily threw yourself on the bed, taking out your phone. The digital clock shown 4:50 PM. Ten minutes until your boyfriend arrives at your house. You two planned to have a movie night today.

You've been dating for a week and a half now, slowly testing the waters with your relationship. In the first days, you and him were a bit shy, unsure what amount of affection is proper. From the brief info you had, you knew his ex girlfriend broke up with him pretty quickly. You could see it left a pretty negative impression, which made him anxious about doing something wrong, and you didn't really blame him. You had no previous partners, but you could imagine how it felt. Even though you knew him for such a short time, he seemed like a pretty sweet, loving guy, so you felt extra special when you two got to the point of being comfortable in each other's houses.

At first, Matthew insisted on taking you on fancy dates, being extra romantic and trying too hard to impress you. You appreciated his effort and charming antics, but felt like you weren't on equal grounds. You wanted to get to know him on a sincere, casual level. So when you convinced him that just watching some movies in a cozy setting would be enough for a date, you felt like you were a step further to being closer.

Your eyes were fixated on the ceiling, mind occupied with the excitement for the upcoming activity. The time started to drag, making a passing of just one minute incredibly long. Boredom forced your thoughts to wander in places you rarely visited ever since you started dating and a familiar warmth forming in your lower abdomen hit you at the worst moment possible.

You were fine with the slow tempo you had established - cuddling was the furthest you two went in terms of physical affection. Except for the one kiss you two shared (right after Matthew asked you out) and some quick pecks on the cheeks, you and him rarely kissed.

You didn't even notice how tense you were these past days. It wasn't a problem when you had the time to do your business in peace, but for the past week, all you've been focused on was mostly Matthew. Normally, you would have likely ignored it and dealt with it after the event, but you didn't want to risk dirty thoughts seeping into your mind when spending time with him. It was a literal Netflix and Chill situation, and you weren't about to ruin it by being weird. You didn't want to overwhelm him, there would be a time for that later.

Your sight fell on the phone again, reading the numbers - 4:54. Six minutes left for the 5 PM to arrive. The heartbeat in your chest quickened as your mind was starting to slowly warm up to the risky idea. The more you hesitated, the less time you had for your break, which created even more pressure to the current conundrum.

A defeated sigh left your lips as you shamefully watched your hand disappear under the waistband of your underwear. Closing your eyes, you tried to mute everything around you, focusing purely on the action. Understanding the dangers of not being urgent enough made your body work in an unexplainably fast manner.

An imagined picture of Matthew catching you in the act invaded your head, making you even more on edge. You didn't actually want it to happen in real life, but a snippet of how it could play out in the future had you in it's grasp.

The sinful thought made your breath quicken, the world was slowly turning into a blur. The pleasant wave began to take course through your muscles. Your bliss didn't last long, though. In a split second, you realized you heard a noise of the doorknob turning, along with a familiar voice.

"Y/N, I arrived!" He announced, slowly entering your room. You didn't have time to dwell on the irony of his sentence, quickly vanishing your hand from your pants.

"Matthew!" The words spilled out of your mouth in a hurry and you wished you had the reflex to stop them. The off tone caught him by a surprise, forcing him to take a better look at you. His eyes noted your slightly disheveled appearance.

You let out a forced chuckle, careful not to sound too out of breath, "You're here!" You readjusted yourself on the bed a bit more appropriately, keeping your legs shut.

"Wow, hey," he said, his eyes resembling those of a deer flashed by streetlight for a moment, "-you missed me?" His question was purely of the innocent nature, making you feel even guiltier.

"Obviously- we were supposed to watch that show, remember?" You tried your best to not sound as if you were about to get shot, the anxiety bubbling in you.

His look from across the room was a bit concerned, unsure if the mood in the air he read was correct. Not wanting the situation to be awkward, his face softened into an unsure yet affectionate smile, hoping to make the atmosphere less tense.

"Uh, I didn't mean to just barge into your house, but I knocked and didn't hear you coming, your door was open so I-" He tried to explain, but all you were busy focusing on your screw-up.

You forgot that you did, in fact, open the doors once you were done cleaning the dishes. Your mind was strictly occupied by him coming home, so you thought your small break to chill on your bed would be short, and in no time, you'd be greeting him on the other side.

"No, no, it's fine," you rambled, the dry feeling on your mouth distracting you slightly, "I should have paid more attention and actually greet you by the door-"

"I just, uh, wanted to put it out there, that," his words started to fumble, "whatever you do in the privacy of your room, is, none of my business-" He tried to gently reassure with intentions of not shaming you, even if he wasn't sure if you'd take it the right way.

"Noo- I made things awkward-" You whined in a self-deprecating tone, you were not prepared to handle this.

"What! No, you didn't!" He shot up, the rush to chase away your worries made him raise his voice a little. You flinched, which made him realize how he came off.

"I- I mean," he stopped, "it's not a big deal, don't worry-"

"I just don't wanna make you uncomfortable," you lightly bit your lip.

"There's nothing that you need to feel awkward about!" His hands flailed around, trying to emphasize his point, "we're both- adults."

You showed him a tired half-smile. Even though the tense atmosphere was cutting into the you both, Matthew still tried to reassure you in his own way. You felt a bit better.

"We didn't really discuss any- stuff of this kind together, and I didn't know if it'd be a comfortable topic for us yet-" you continued, feeling put on the spot. Even though Matthew gave you a way out of this topic, you just had to dig yourself a bigger hole.

His sight jumped around the room, making sure to not meet with your eyes. You felt the mattress sink under his weight as he sat on the bed next to you, trying to hide half of his flustered expression in his bangs.

"I'm not against the idea, if you aren't." 

It took you a moment before you responded, "I'm not ... I mean- we could discuss it now, if you feel like it."

"Okay-" he stretched his arms forward, promptly resting his elbows on his knees, a spot on the floor seeming more comfortable to stare at for the moment.

The short silence made Matthew speak up again, "so-" he bit his lip, already knowing his further words will embarrass him.

"Were you thinking about me?"

"Matthew!" His surprising bluntness made you raise your voice, gaining a guilty and anxious grin from the man. It was his turn to feel like he crossed a line.

"Sorry, I just-" he tried to back out from his words, his hands raised in an apologetic manner, "I- I was curious!"

You couldn't contain the chuckle wanting to escape your lips. The ridiculousness of the situation finally got to you. He wanted to see it as a good sign, but he was still a bit on edge from his outrageous question.

"I- I was," you meekly answered, feeling exposed. Not like anything would come out of you keeping it a secret. He was your boyfriend, he asked, it seemed fair enough. That response, however, made him straighten up immediately, and you could swear you heard an almost inaudible, sharp intake of air, as if he was about to choke on his own breath. 

"I- alright," he huffed out, blank stare visible on his face. The answer and it's implications sinked in, the cogs turning in his mind were pretty visible. His worries about you leaving him have been suddenly put on pause. You thought about him in that way?

Seeing how affected he was by your confession made you a bit more confident. He timidly opened up his mouth again, "Can…"

"Can I ask," he prolonged his sentence, "what were you thinking about?"

Again, it was your turn to be coy. But, from the reactions he gave you, you concluded it wasn't as awkward of an experience as as you originally thought it would be. I mean, it was still awkward, but not as bad. Matthew was just flustered, and so were you, but the vibe in the room wasn't purely negative.

"I was thinking…" you tried to put down your words in an eloquent manner, fighting the urge to cringe at what you're about to say, "how soon you're gonna be here."

Matthew only briefly glanced at you, his usual, theatrical reactions stopped due to intense focus on your words.

"How I must hurry up, otherwise you're gonna know something's up. And, well, you did," you quietly muttered out, forcing a crooked smile. You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, but the reactions to your admissions were pushing you to keep going.

"And… how did you think it was gonna go?" he dared to ask.

"Well, um… I hoped you wouldn't get mad, or worse, disgusted-" you stated your worries, it felt a bit relieving to finally get it out of your chest, even if it was a pretty vulnerable experience.

"No, no-" he was quick to say, "I'm not disgusted at all!"

"I think-" he hesitated, "I think it's even, kinda, hot, he finally sputtered out.

You couldn't help yourself as laughter busted right out you, catching Matthew by surprise.

"What?" he shot up, now feeling like he surely said something embarrassing.

The affection reflected in your eyes as the corners of your lips went up. You pressed a light kiss on his lips which he reciprocated, but was fairly surprised.

"What was that for-?" he asked, unsurely looking into your eyes, yet without an intention to complain.

"You're too adorable," you said, gaining another pathetic sound from the man.

You stared at him for a while, just basking in the unexpected joy your boyfriend gave you. You were fully prepared for the evening to turn sour, and now you were both openly discussing pretty intimate matters. Well, as openly as you two were able to get at this early stage of your relationship.

"How did I find such a good boyfriend?" Your words were coated in honey, you wanted to butter him up. It wasn't really serious, more of a lighthearted tease, while still staying relatively sincere to your honest thoughts.

Matthew's eyes went wide as he quickly changed his sitting position. His legs were clasped together, a nervous look on his face betrayed his embarrassment.

"L-love, um-" his brows were uncomfortably furrowed, a bashful grin appearing on his lips, "would it be a good time now to admit to something as well-?"

Your curious eyes landed on the area he tried to hide. You had a clue as to why his position suddenly shifted. You nodded slowly.

"Your words are killing me," a nervous titter followed after.

"My words?" You played a bit dumb, innocently pushing further. You saw an opportunity, so you chased it.

"Your- compliments. In- in this, current setting," He explained, his back arched in a way that made his arms rest "casually" while also covering his crotch. Even though he was actor, he couldn't nail the natural look.

"Mm?" You let a cheeky smile get on your face. Getting a bit closer, yet still hesitant, you tested the waters, "is me saying you're a good boy turning you on?"

His shoulders stiffened as soon as the sentence fell on his ears. His bangs were successfully hiding part of his face, until you made an effort to gently put them behind his ear. You raised his chin up with your finger, making him look at you. You could feel the way he melted under your touch.

In a weird surge of confidence, you decided to press your lips into his once again, this time trying to gently push him to part his lips. He got the hint pretty quickly, allowing you to slide your tongue into his mouth without much resistance.

It got a bit sloppy, but neither of you minded at the moment. Even though your eyes were closed, you could feel the warmth in Matthew's cheeks as you slowly moved your hand to cup his face. Matthew leaned into the kiss, letting you take charge.

A light string of saliva connected you both when you gently pulled away from the kiss. Even if it lasted a relatively short time, his expression seemed dazed.

His hands let go of hiding the intimate spot, an action which let you see the uncomfortably stretched fabric of his pants. Your gaze left him flustered, yet he plead the fifth. The cat was out of the bag, there was nothing to hide anymore. All left to do was to take the shame with dignity (or lack thereof).

"Mattie-" your words cut through the silence, his whole focus went to you, "would you want to- get on my lap?"

You could practically feel the heat radiating off of him, his eyes betraying the excitement. He nodded, carefully positioning himself on the spot that you requested. You felt his weight resting on you, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

He stayed silent with bated breath, careful not to break the moment between you two. You couldn't lie, your worries were similar, but you decided to just go with the flow. Your hands slowly crawled onto his sides, making him squirm at the sudden contact.

"Tell me if I do anything uncomfortable," you whispered while moving your hands down his torso, making the man exhale sharply.

"Mhm," he hummed, trying to keep his composure, "you can do- whatever-"

To avoid unnecessary silence, you occupied your time by locking your lips again, leaving only the sounds of excited breathing as the ambient around you. You closed your eyes, the sight of your boyfriend in the current situation was too much to bare. Your hand trailed down to touch the fabric of his jeans, gently exploring the place. Matthew didn't know what to do with his hands as he let out a quiet whimper. The noise made you wanna move from the place, now slowly unbuckling his belt. Matthew kept his hands politely placed on his knees, but after a while he rested them carefully on your shoulders.

Your hand snaked itself onto the bare skin below his abdomen. The feeling of your fingers brushing along his length made Matthew pull away ever so slightly, breaking the kiss with a hitched breath. You didn't dare to look down, instead choosing to assault his neck with a trail of light pecks.

The feather light smooches made him wiggle a bit, the intense reactions to your touch had you charmed. His body language was already pretty open and theatrical in a casual setting, and it amused you that his movements translated well into the current activity.

After his neck was full of marks left by your lips, you pulled away, making him look at you. His bangs managed to fall on his face again, leaving only one eye uncovered to glare at you with affection. You raised your hand until it was on the same level as his lips.

"Open up, please?" you requested, filled with a surprising amount of confidence.

He did what you asked for with almost no delay. Your digits gently pressed down on his tongue. You gathered some saliva by moving them around, brushing his teeth lightly in the process. After you left his mouth, Matthew kept it open for a few moments before closing it, as if he just processed what happened. Your used the lubricant to make your hand slide up and down with more ease.

"Mf-"

The action lasted no more 2 minutes, and Matthew was already starting to become a mess. His breath quickened substantially, releasing shallow pants on par to your strokes. He was doing whatever he can to not break the fun too soon. You noticed he was close, and so your movements stopped completely. He was hoping you didn't notice a dissatisfied whimper that quietly managed to escape his mouth.

"Mattie?" you asked, tone barely above whisper.

"Mm?" His tired look was obstructed by the messy hair.

"Did you ever think about me when…" you started, hoping this topic wasn't crossing any boundaries. But he asked you about it first, so you thought it was fair.

Matthew tensed, meek "I-" came out of his mouth. He avoided eye contact for a second, pretending he didn't feel as if he was just caught doing something bad.

"Only once!" he defended himself, prepared to be severely judged for admitting to it. You chuckled softly, endeared. You found his humility quite cute.

"Well- You wanna do it a second time?" You asked, mostly coy with a hint of feigned confidence. The blood rushed to his cheeks as quickly as the words left your mouth.

"N-now?" he asked, just in case he misunderstood something.

"If you're comfortable with it, of course," you reassured. You still wanted to make sure you were on the same page. A hesitant nod acted as his confirmation.

"Good boy," you murmured, causing goosebump to appear on his skin. You started undoing the buttons of his red shirt, making his body freeze.

"Don't mind me," You cooed.

His hand reached the destination, carrying out slow, gentle strokes. He closed his eyes, trying to focus on the feeling (which was pretty hard with you actively messing with his buttons). His chest, quickly rising and falling, was on full view and your hands were quick to explore it.

"You look so pretty right now," you whispered. You weren't even teasing, those were your honest words.

"Nhf-" He bit his lip, his pace quickened. At this point he didn't have the strength to hold back his sounds, your ears were hit with an array of moans and whimpers.

"How did I get so lucky?" You continued buttering him up, you knew it made him tick. Another wave of hickeys landed on the side of his neck.

After a frenzy of labored breaths, a prolonged whine got out of his lips. His entire body tensed, a hit of euphoria catching up. His shoulders fell limp, his chin rested on your shoulder.

"Feeling better now, love?" You embraced his waist, his entire body acted like a big heater.

"Y-yeah," he huffed out, slowly coming to his senses.

You pressed a soft kiss on his forehead, forcing him to show a crooked, bashful grin.

"Are you… ready to go again?" you felt embarrassed by being so needy. You had your release not so long ago, and you were still desperate for another one.

"Uh," he waited a bit before responding, "y-yeah, of course- just be a bit gentler while I recover," he didn't wanna ruin your fun, even if he did need a small break. Given the circumstances, you decided to try something different.

"Could you lay down, please?" He obeyed without any objections, looking for further instructions.

You placed your butt on his thigh, your pelvis started searching for friction. You decided to keep your eyes closed, careful not to focus on how desperate you looked, in opposition to Matthew, who's eyes were open wide, looking at you as if he was about to faint. The sight of you dry-humping him made him regain his strength a bit faster.

"O-okay, I'm ready!" He exclaimed, raising his upper body by supporting on his elbows. Your movements stopped, a light pant came out of you, missing the feeling.

Hearing the rush in his voice made you smile, he sounded as if he was about to miss the best part. Not wanting to tease him any longer, you pulled down on his pants, exposing more of his body. He didn't mind, bending his legs to make it easier for you. Matthew laid on your bed almost naked - his lower half was completely on display, the unbuttoned shirt was doing a poor job of hiding his physique.

"You're overdressed," he pointed out, his tone a bit pouty. A not so subtle hint of him wanting to see more of you.

"Sorry, I didn't want to steal your spotlight," you joked lightheartedly, gaining a flustered eye roll from the man.

You got out of your pants, swiftly tossing them on the floor. You didn't really have a plan in mind, your only objective was for you both to have a good time. Matthew watched as you hovered above him, this time aligning your nether regions with his. You leaned your face closer to his, subtly brushing against his groin. He was so warm-

Your tongue hungrily dove into his mouth again. You felt his hands grab your waist, holding you tight in his grip. He wanted to be as close as possible, too desperate to let go of you. Your thrusting hips created a comfortable pace for the both of you to feel the most out of the effects you had on each other.

His fingers were starting to gently dig into your sides, betraying how close he was. His kissing became less active, now focused on holding back the feeling of euphoria that would soon overwhelm him. The intense pang of pleasure made you break the kiss with a sound that he found very attractive.

Matthew's release followed shortly after, leaving both of you a panting mess. Your body fell limply on his, relishing in the afterglow from the overwhelming bliss. You pushed your body to the side after you were able to move again and your limbs entangled themselves into Matthew. He let out a content sigh, putting his arm around you.

You didn't expect the entire ordeal to leave you so sleepy. You still wanted to go through the original plans you had, but the thought of doing anything other than heavenly falling asleep in his arms was already too tiring for you.

"I love you," he murmured tiredly, "so much."