#yeah it’s nice to just know it without really having to be taught like… in school

[bri-cheeses]

My hopes and dreams are yet again RUINED cuz of Arabic grammar cuz tell me WHYY I just learned that if there's a just one guy in a group of girls the correct way to call the whole group is guys and I wrote about lily and Mary taking Sirius and marlene to a supermarket and sent it to a competition yet again I'm crying over Arabic grammar

noooooo I hate it when grammar is like that it’s so annoying 😭

Like why can’t it just… make sense? Majority should rule there but nooo I guess not

Anyways I am very curious as to what competition this is 👀

[pizzapizzadickz]

I often times find myself wondering when interacting with people "am I doing this right?'"

It used to be even more often, I probably was really anxious about it back then. Now... not so much? I still find myself worrying a bit. And especially trying to find the correct "answer" or action to say or do. But. It's not really by any fault of my own. It's just what's expected of me in social situations doesn't always come naturally. So I'm awkward. But idk. While I'll always probably try to find the right answer for things, I'm a bit less worried than I used to be. And I suppose that's something good in a way.

[cherrylovelycherry]

Hi! I wanted to say that I really love your writing, I spent hours binge reading without even noticing! I also love how creative your "menu" is. I wanted to ask if you take requests? If so, could I request a Boothill x Fem reader souffle? It can be any kind of plot or without plot at all. I just really like your writing and would like to see one of Boothill. Thank you so much for your time -anon

.note. hihi anon! aww it's nice that you like my writing, thanks! (ㅅ´ ˘ `) this took me a while, uni is being hard on me. sorry if there are any spelling mistakes, english is not my first language. anyway, i'm kicking my feet as i write this. i have the hc that boothill is sweet and gentle when it comes to intimacy, the complete opposite of his appearance, so yeah. hope you like it! ദ്ദി (˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶)~✧

𓂅new order. "soufflé and a éclair au chocolat."

You know what they say — save a horse, ride a cowboy!

pairing. Boothill x fem!reader cw/genre. nsfw, fluff, cunnilingus, blowjob, some praise kink, first time, mdni synopsis. you ended up fucking a cowboy full menu

You're were with Boothill this afternoon, as he was willing to give you lessons on horse riding after he realised how incredibly inexperienced you were.

You were lucky he taught you, though you assumed it would be his way of repaying the favors you did him, fixing and improving his robotic body countless times.

The countryside is just outside of the busy city, so, as somone who lived in the city, being with Boothill in the countryside was very different.

After an hour or two, you started to grow tired and Boothill noticed it. He offered for you to come to his house, or so you thought, since that was where he was staying for a while, instead of walking all the way back home in such a tired state. You nodded, exhuasted, just wanting to lay your head on a pillow.

As Boothill walks with you check your phone, and there's a message from your roommate asking where you were. You quickly text that you're staying at Boothill's for the night.

Another message appears, and when you open it, it says;

"You're staying with Boothill for the night?? OMG, you know what they say — save a horse, ride a cowboyyy!"

You felt the heat rise to your face almost instantly as you read the message. Which caused curiosity in him, approaching where you were.

"Hey, you ok? You're turning red, darlin'."

As if trying to see what the message was about, you moved your head to the side. Which ended up being for the fun of it as you quickly put your phone away.

The evening sun was already peeking out, being chased by the darkness of the night.

With somewhat quick steps, it managed to set before you, curiosity etched across his features, Boothill reached out to touch your cheek. "Seriously, you look like a ripe tomato. Did somethin' happen?"

Your heart skipped a beat as his fingers slowly touched your cheek. You took a shaky breath as his hand continued to touch your face.

You quickly looked away, trying to avoid his gaze.

"I'm fine, just tired. That's all," you said quietly, trying to sound convincing.

The feeling of his hand on your skin sent chills down your spine, reminding you of the message your roommate sent.

You let go of his grip, as you both continued walking.

Was it possible that…he was thinking the same thing?

You shook your head slightly at the thought.

"Just my stupid roommate making a dumb joke." You tried to laugh it off, but even you could hear how forced it sounded.

Boothill continued to watch you intently, his eyes lingering on your face for a moment longer before he spoke.

"Darlin', I can tell when you're lyin'. You're makin' it kinda obvious," he said, a hint of amusement in his voice.

"Hah, right, whatever you say." You scratched your cheek with your hand, hurrying your pace.

He merely laughed lightly at your response.

You both walked towards where Boothill was staying, it was a somewhat remote house, but it was in the city.

The house was somewhat large, the owner of which was a grandmother, who Boothill had once saved. She was extremely sweet to let him stay there if he needed it.

As you arrived at the house, you noticed how the sky had darkened even more, the stars slowly appearing as the night settled in.

As you both reached the house, Boothill unlocked the front door. It creaked open, and he stepped back to let you walk in first.

With a muttered "thank you", you entered the house. It was cozy and comfortable, a warm place that seemed to radiate with a hint of nostalgia.

Boothill closed the door behind him and led you into the living room.

"Make yourself at home darlin' I'll go and let her know I've brought you with me," he said before disappearing into the hallway.

You took a seat on the couch in the living room, and as soon as your butt met the cushion, you felt your phone vibrate.

Another message… probably from your roommate.

You fished your phone out of your pocket and quickly unlocked it, curiosity getting the better of you.

Sure enough, it was another message from your roommate, still riding the horse/cowboy joke.

This time, she sent a gif of a cowboy riding a horse, with the message; "Yee-haw! Ride that cowboy, babe! 😉"

You couldn't help but sigh, feeling a mixture of annoyance and embarrassment. And even some amusement at the gif she sent. Your roommate was way too invested in your supposed "crush" on Boothill.

You groaned inwardly Great. It was never going to end. Your roommate was going to make this into a running joke for months, maybe even until the end of time.

Your irritation was interrupted as you heard footsteps approaching from the hallway.

Boothill appeared a moment later, walking back into the living room. He took a seat on the opposite side of the couch, still maintaining a respectable distance from you.

"She's just glad I'm finally bringin' someone here," he chuckled, referring to the house's owner.

He leaned back into the couch, his eyes still fixed on your form. There was a small smile on his face.

You shifted in your seat, feeling a mix of embarrassment and warmth at his words.

"Yeah, well, I'm sure she's had to deal with your antics for a while now," you quipped, trying to sound lighthearted.

Boothill let out a mocking gasp, placing a hand over his chest in mock offense.

"Excuse me? Are you implyin' that I'm a troublesome guest? Me? A perfect gentleman?"

You rolled your eyes, a small smile tugging at the corners of your mouth.

"Oh yes, the perfect gentleman," you said, sarcasm dripping from your tone.

He feigned an expression of innocence.

"I'll have you know, I am a model guest. I make sure to clean up after myself, respect the property, and always ask for permission before snackin' on somethin'."

You couldn't help but laugh at his attempts to defend himself.

"Right, because asking for permission to raid the fridge is the epitome of good manners," you teased, raising an eyebrow. "And let's not forget the time you accidentally broke a vase and tried to mend it with duct tape."

He fakely frowned a little.

"Hey, I still stand by that duct tape solution. It looked pretty darn good once I was done with it," he chuckled, a hint of guilt in his voice.

You shook your head, still amused.

"You're lucky the house's owner has a soft spot for you. Otherwise she wouldn't let you stay here any longer."

He shrugged, a cheeky grin spreading across his face.

"What can I say? I'm irresistibly charmin'."

He stretched lazily, his metal arms extending with a soft whir.

"But seriously, she knows I ain't cause no real trouble. And besides, I keep the spiders away for her," he added with a wink.

You snickered. "Ah, yes, the dutiful bodyguard against the eight-legged critters. She must be so thankful for your bravery."

He laughed, clearly enjoying the playful banter.

"You laugh now, but when you have a spider the size of your hand crawlin' up your leg, you'll be beggin' for my services," he teased.

"Please, like I'd ever let it come to that," you retorted. "I'd fight that spider off with a rolled-up newspaper if I had to."

He chuckled again. "Oh, I don't doubt that for a second darlin'. You ain't afraid of much, are you?"

The lighthearted atmosphere was refreshing, and you found yourself enjoying the exchange.

"Heh, I guess not."

You put a lock of your hair behind your ear, while Boothill turned on the medium-sized television in the room. The fireplace made the cold outside not felt at all.

The soft glow of the television filled the room, casting shadows on the walls.

Boothill grabbed the remote and started flicking through the channels, looking for something to watch.

"Anythin' ya want to watch?" he asked, not taking his eyes off the TV.

You tilted your head, pretending to think for a moment before answering.

"How about a cowboy movie?" you suggested, a teasing tone in your voice.

"Hah! A good one then."

As you glanced at Boothill, you noticed the way the light reflected in his eyes, their artificial luminescence dancing with the flicker of the screen.

"You hungry? I can whip somethin' up for ya in the kitchen," he offered, his voice still carrying a hint of humor.

You considered his offer.

"Nah, I'm alright," you replied, your attention half-focused on the TV.

The more time passed, the more interesting the movie became. You both let out one or another comment about this. Until you and him were silent.

He leaned back against the couch, his metal arm resting along the back. Despite his mechanical parts, he still managed to exude a sense of comfortable familiarity.

His gaze flicked away from the television, locking onto yours.

"You okay, darlin'? You're a little quieter than usual."

You were caught off guard for a moment, surprised by his perceptive question.

"Yeah, I'm fine," you answered, a little too quickly. Lie, you were falling asleep.

The truth was, you were fighting the urge to yawn.

"I'm just a lil tired ," you added, trying to sound nonchalant. Another lie, your whole body hurt from the physical exercise you were doing earlier in the field with Boothill.

He raised an eyebrow, a hint of skepticism in his gaze.

"Uh-huh, 'a little tired,' ya say," he said, clearly not buying your act.

He leaned forward a bit, studying your face.

"Your eyes are heavy, and you're yawnin' more than a kitten."

He thought for a second before placing a cushion from the couch, which they were sitting on, over his legs.

"Here." He said, patting the cushion a few times, so you could lay your head there.

"Are you calling me a tired kitten?" you protested, unable to stop a small yawn from escaping your lips as you spoke, proving his point.

Your eyes widened slightly as he patted the cushion on his lap, offering it to you like some kind of makeshift pillow.

Your heart skipped a beat, the situation feeling suddenly more intimate.

But your body yearned for rest, your tired muscles calling out for a moment of peace.

He smirked, clearly amused by your tired protest.

"I dunno, if the shoe fits…" he joked, his gaze still fixed on you.

As you hesitated, hesitating to accept the offer, your tired body won out over your embarrassment.

With a defeated sigh, you slowly leaned down, resting your head on the pillow of the cushion, now laying across his lap.

Your heartbeat quickened as you felt the firm but gentle support of his thighs beneath you.

He chuckled softly as he noticed your hesitation, but allowed you to lean down and rest your head on his lap.

"There you go, darlin'," he murmured as you settled into the makeshift pillow.

A small, satisfied smile tugged at the corners of his mouth. Boothill remained silent for a moment, observing your tired state.

"Comfy?" he asked finally, his voice a low rumble.

"Mhm." You let out an affirmation towards his words.

You closed your eyes, surrendering to the exhaustion that tugged at your eyelids.

The sound of the movie in the background faded away, replaced by the steady rhythm of his breathing.

For a moment, there was a silence between you, but it wasn't uncomfortable.

Instead, it felt soothing.

He watched you closely as you let your guard down, your eyes slowly drifting closed.

With each breath you took, your body seemed to relax further, almost melting into his lap.

Boothill's metal fingers gently traced the outline of your hair, almost on instinct, as if seeking to provide some kind of comfort.

A soft, almost silent chuckle passed his lips as he noticed your tired state.

You felt your body relax as tension drained from your muscles, the weight of the day's physicality finally catching up to you.

Boothill seemed content to remain silent, allowing you to rest in comfortable respite.

Your mind started to wander, thoughts blending together seamlessly. You felt strangely at peace in this position - head resting on his lap, his metal fingers brushing against your hair, the sounds of the movie like a distant hum.

You felt utterly at ease, your tired body finally getting the rest it desperately craved.

Boothill's presence was both comforting and grounding, his touch a constant reminder of his attentiveness towards you.

Your thoughts gradually faded into weary tiredness, your mind struggling to stay awake longer.

You found yourself drifting on the edge of sleep.

He continued idly running his metal fingers through your hair, a soothing rhythm that seemed almost designed to lull you deeper into relaxation.

As your breathing slowed, growing more rhythmic and steady, he could tell that you were moments away from drifting off to sleep.

His eyes never left your face, taking in your relaxed expression and the soft curves of your features.

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips. There was a certain satisfaction in seeing you at peace, especially after a long day.

You felt his fingers running through your hair once more before you fell completely asleep.

Your mind slowly slipped away from consciousness, and the world around you faded into a drowsy haze.

You don't know how much time passed, but you slowly opened your eyes, keeping them half-lidded.

You weren't touching the couch and you felt like they were grabbing you.

Oh, you were being carried.

Keeping your eyes the same way, you looked up, watching as he was carrying you up the stairs.

You felt like in those princess stories in which the prince carefully carries the princess.

As he carried you up the stairs, his grip firm and gentle around you, he took note of your half-lidded eyes slowly fluttering open.

He chuckled softly as he caught your gaze, realizing you were half-awake.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," he teased quietly, his voice barely above a whisper.

He continued up the stairs, navigating carefully to not accidentally hit your head or anything else.

"Go back to sleep, dear"

He was taking you to a spare room so that you could sleep more comfortably.

Even in your semi-asleep state, you heard the soft rumble of his voice, the sound soothing your tired mind.

A small, sleepy smile tugged at the corners of your lips as you heard him call you "sleepyhead." It was a nickname you hadn't heard from him before.

He carried you gently upstairs, the sound of his footsteps on the hardwood floor blending with the silence of the house. You kept your eyes half-open, still disoriented and groggy.

"Mmph…" you managed to mumble in response, your drowsy brain struggling to form coherent words.

He chuckled at your sleepy attempt at a response, finding your disoriented state endlessly endearing.

"Shhh," he whispered, his metal fingers gently brushing a strand of hair away from your face.

"You're barely awake, darlin'. Just go back to sleep, we're almost in the guest room."

The soft hallway lights cast long shadows ahead of him, dancing softly against the walls as he continued on.

Finally reaching the spare room, he carefully pushed the door open and stepped inside.

Gently, he laid you down on the bed, tucking the blankets around you like he was handling a delicate artifact.

As you were gently lowered onto the bed, the soft sheets and blankets wrapping around you like a comforting embrace, your body automatically snuggled into their embrace.

A small, satisfied sigh escaped your lips as your tired muscles sink against the mattress.

The cool sheets felt soothing against your skin as you slowly settled into the bed, still in a half-asleep state.

You felt his touch once more as he carefully adjusted the blankets, ensuring you were tucked in properly.

"There we go," he murmured, his voice low and almost soothing.

As you were laid on the soft mattress, the blankets wrapping around you like a cosy cocoon, you felt the exhaustion fully taking over again.

Your tired mind was too drowsy to think clearly, your eyelids feeling heavy once more.

You vaguely registered his movements around you as he seemed to be adjusting something near the bed.

"…Boothill?" you mumbled his name, your voice still thick with sleepiness.

He paused, looking down at you with a hint of surprise at the sound of his name.

"Yeah, darlin'?" he replied quietly, his voice a gentle rumble.

He finished adjusting the blanket, ensuring you were completely covered and tucked in.

He then leaned closer to the bed, his eyes studying your sleepy face for a moment, before a soft smile tugged at the corner of his lips.

"You need somethin', or are you just makin' sure I'm still here?" he teased gently.

Your sleepy brain struggled to form coherent thoughts, the drowsiness making it difficult to string words together.

"Mmph… jus' makin' sure…" you mumbled, your voice barely audible.

You felt strangely vulnerable in this half-asleep state, the tiredness leaving you without the usual guard you had up.

The room was quiet, the only sound being the soft rustling of the blankets as you shifted slightly, trying to get comfortable.

You could feel his presence close to the bed, his eyes still fixed on you.

Literally the idea of what you were going to try to say left you. So you frowned, keeping your eyes closed.

Until you managed to remember something, "The girl who is with you will be…very, veeery luckyy,"

He raised an eyebrow at your drowsy mumble, his grin widening slightly.

"Is that so?" he murmured, his voice soft and amused.

When you mentioned the hypothetical luck of his future girlfriend, his gaze softened, a hint of something unreadable in his expression.

He chuckled lightly, shaking his head slightly. "You're still dreamin', darlin'."

He reached out, his metal fingertips lightly running through your hair once more, a soothing gesture.

He stood silently nearby, watching you as you fought against the fog of sleep.

As you mumbled something about the girl he might date, his expression softened even further. He couldn't help but find your sleepy ramblings both amusing and endearing.

You hummed with pleasure as you felt his metal fingertips gently run through your hair once more, the sensation sending a soothing wave through your tired body.

Your eyes remained closed, too heavy to open, and yet some part of your tired mind stubbornly held on to consciousness.

"Mm…not dreamin'…jus' sayin'…" you protested, your words slurring together slightly.

Your mouth attempted to form more words, but fatigue weighed heavily on your tongue, making it difficult to speak clearly.

"Lucky…" you mumbled once more, the word sounding more like a sigh than anything else.

He chuckled softly beside you, his voice filled with a mixture of amusement and something else you couldn't quite place.

"…Darlin', you're not exactly makin' sense," he teased, his tone warm and affectionate.

He continued to run his mechanical fingers through your hair, the soothing motion seemed to melt away any tension still lingering in your body.

As you mumbled about luck and being lucky, he chuckled again, the sound low and gentle.

Your words came out alone, almost like a yawn that couldn't be stopped. "C'mere…" You said, as you looked at him, you opened your eyes a little this time.

His hand paused in your hair, caught off guard by your request.

He looked at you, your half-open eyes peering up at him through the haze of sleep.

A mix of surprise and amusement played across his face. "You want me to come closer?" he asked, a hint of a smile tugging at the corner of his lips.

He stood there for a moment, as if trying to decipher your sleepy request, before moving closer to the bed.

“Mhm,” You blurted out, affirming his words.

His eyes scanned your face, taking in your half-open eyes and the sleepy smile on your lips.

"You're a bossy little thing, even when you're half-asleep," he said with a soft chuckle, shaking his head slightly.

He sat down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping slightly under his weight.

He leaned over slightly, his metal hand still resting on your hair, gently smoothing out the messy strands.

By the time he got close enough, your body acted on its own.

"Lucky.." You murmured as you grabbed his face with both hands and placed your lips on top of his, quickly but softly.

Caught off guard by your unexpected move, his eyes widened slightly when he felt the softness of your lips against his. For a moment, he froze, his brain trying to comprehend what was happening.

But it didn't take long for him to respond. His hand on your hair slid down to your cheek, the coolness of his metal fingers contrasting with the warmth of your skin.

He returned the kiss, his lips moving against yours with a gentleness that contradicted his cybernetic appearance.

After a few seconds, he pulled away slightly, "Darlin', you're gonna be the death of me…" he murmured

As you felt his response, his cool fingers contrasting with the warmth of your skin, you couldn't help but feel a sense of satisfaction.

You leaned into his touch, your eyes still closed, a small smile playing at the corners of your lips.

Your tired mind was still in a sleepy haze, but the kiss seemed to awaken a different kind of energy within you. You let out a sleepy giggle at his words, your eyes still half-lidded.

“You’re a little too cheeky when you’re sleepy," he admonished, a hint of amusement in his tone. "You're gonna give a cowboy a heart attack."

It was a nice way to put it since he physically had no heart.

His eyes tracing the curve of your smile on your lips. Your tiredness seemed to fuel a playful energy within you, making you even more endearing in his eyes.

He shifted his position slightly, his body now facing you fully, one knee on the bed. His metal hand cupped your chin, tilting your face up towards him as he leaned in slightly.

"And here I am, trying to be all gentlemanly and let you get some sleep," he teased, his voice low and full of mock reproach.

A sly smile tugged at the corners of your lips, the drowsy state making you even more cheeky than usual. Besides, despite being tired, your consciousness was more exact. You were leaving the state of drowsiness.

"Gentlemanly, huh?" you mumbled, your words still slightly slurred by sleepiness.

You pushed yourself up on one elbow, leaning towards him as much as your tired body would allow. "That's cute," You commented, your other hand reaching out to touch his chest.

You chuckled softly, "Besides, whose fault is it for being so irresistibly kissable?" you retorted.

You liked to see how his face turned slightly red, being visible only by the night light that came through the window.

You were enjoying the unexpected turn of events, the boundaries between friendship and something else starting to blur.

His eyes widened slightly at your words, the compliment catching him off guard.

He watched intently as you leaned forward, your touch against his chest igniting a spark under his metal skin.

Thanks to you, who had been able to connect and 'create' new nerves that would be connected to his robotic parts, managing to have at least a slight sensation of touch in his body.

His eyes flicked down to your hand before returning to meet your gaze, his expression a mix of amusement and something else he couldn't quite hide.

Your words had found their mark, and he couldn't deny the reaction they provoked. Despite his usual confidence, there was something about your sleepy flirtations that had him uncharacteristically flustered.

He swallowed hard, trying to maintain his usual cool demeanor, but a hint of a blush betrayed his reaction.

He leaned in closer, his body nearly hovering over yours as you leaned up on your elbow. His metal hand moved from your chin to the back of your neck, his fingers tracing circles on your skin.

Your senses seemed hyper-aware in this exhausted state, and the feeling of his metal fingers tracing circles on the back of your neck sent a shiver down your spine.

The way he loomed over you, his body hovering just above yours, made your heartbeat quicken. There was a sudden tension in the air, a subtle shift in the dynamics of your relationship.

You looked up at him, your eyes no longer had that flash of tiredness.

He could see the change in your eyes, the drowsiness slowly giving way to a sharper focus. A silent understanding seemed to pass between you both; the tiredness had faded, replaced by a different kind of awareness.

He leaned in even closer, his face now only inches away from yours. His eyes held a mixture of curiosity and barely concealed desire, studying your features as if seeing you in a new light.

The air thick with an unspoken tension. Your skin tingled where his metal fingers touched your neck, a mix of cool certainty and unexpected delicacy.

"You're awake now, aren't you?" he murmured, his voice lower than usual, hinting at the effect you were having on him.

His fingers continued their gentle dance along the back of your neck. He seemed to be wrestling with something, caught between his customary charm and the unfamiliar surge of vulnerability.

Your lips parted slightly, the proximity making it difficult to focus on anything but him.

His eyes were searching yours, studying every detail as if trying to memorize each inch of your face. His gaze remained fixed on you, watching how your eyes responded to his closeness.

But, oh, he was holding back, there was an evident hunger within him.

A hunger he never thought he wanted, specifically from you.

He saw your reaction, the slight intake of breath, the way your lips parted slightly.

His mind was hazy with a million thoughts, all centered on you and how much he wanted to close the remaining space between you.

His metal fingers moved up from your neck, tracing a path along your jawline before gently brushing against your bottom lip.

"Tell me to stop," he said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Your breath hitched slightly at his touch, the feeling of his metal fingers on your lip setting your nerves alight.

His voice was soft but laced with a barely restrained intensity. He was struggling with his own desires, trying to hold back but also aching for more.

You hesitated for a moment, caught between wanting to give in to the budding intimacy and fearing the consequences.

Your eyes met his, searching his gaze for any hint of insecurity or doubt. But the desire in his eyes made it clear that this was not a whim or a passing fancy for him.

"But I don't want you to stop," You responded also quietly. Your eyes left his for a moment, looking down at his lips.

Your words were like music to his ears, banishing the last remnants of his hesitation.

His breath hitched slightly as your eyes drifted to his lips, the silent desire in your gaze mirroring his own.

His hand shifted, moving to cradle your face, his thumb resting just under your chin, tilting your face up to meet his gaze.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice a low rumble.

And, with just a nod from you, he couldn't help it anymore.

Being careful not to hurt you, he somewhat carelessly brought his lips to yours, pressing them with need.

Your confirmation was all he needed.

The moment your heads met, there was an explosion of sensation. He deepened the kiss, his other hand gripping your waist, drawing you closer to him. His body pressed against yours, the coolness of his metal chest contrasting with the warmth of your skin.

His tongue eagerly explored your lips, seeking access to your mouth, a silent plea for more, for more of you.

There was a certain urgency in his actions, a hunger you could practically taste in the way he held you, the way his tongue moved against yours.

As his tongue sought entry into your mouth, you didn't hesitate to respond in kind.

Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling him even closer, needing to feel more of him against you.

His hands roamed restlessly over your body, as if trying to memorize every inch of your skin through your clothes. He needed to feel every part of you, as if the physical contact could quench the hunger burning within him.

The kiss grew more urgent, more demanding. His cool metal fingers gripped your waist, holding you tightly as he pressed you further into the mattress.

His tongue danced with yours, a silent battle for control, each movement charged with raw desire. There was a hint of something wild in his demeanor, the usually controlled cowboy succumbing to his most primal instincts.

He groaned softly into the kiss as your hands tangled in his hair, the feeling both pleasurable and arousing.

Your body responded eagerly to his touch, arching against him in a silent plea for more.

His hands explored your body, tracing the contour of your curves, the cool metal of his fingers leaving goosebumps in their wake.

He broke the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, leaving a trail of kisses and gentle nibbles along your sensitive skin.

"You drive me crazy," he murmured against your neck, his voice hoarse with desire.

A gasp escaped your lips as he moved from your mouth to your neck, his teeth grazing against the sensitive skin.

Heat pooled in your core, his words and actions igniting a fire within you.

Your fingers gently tugged at his hair, a silent signal urging him on. A soft moan escaped from your throat as he bit down lightly on a particularly sensitive spot.

"You have… no idea," you managed to gasp out, your voice shaky with need.

He hummed against your skin, the sound vibrating along your sensitive skin.

Your gasps and slight moans only fueled his desire, the sound of your voice shivering with need causing a shiver to run down his system.

His hands roamed over your body, tracing every curve, as if mapping out a territory he now desperately wished to claim as his own.

He smirked slightly against your neck, his lips leaving a trail of kisses that were slowly moving down to your collarbone.

"Oh, I think I have a pretty good idea," he retorted, his voice carrying a low, sultry tone.

His hands moved lower, resting on your hips, gently guiding your body against his.

His smirk against your neck sent a shiver down your spine. You could feel the heat of your desire growing with each passing moment.

His hands roaming over your body and his lips tracing a path down your collarbone added fuel to the flame.

You tilted your head back, giving him better access to your neck. Your fingers tangled in his hair, pulling slightly as he continued his assault on your skin.

"Boothill…" you whispered, his name sounding like a prayer tumbling off your lips.

Your whispered plea, his name falling from your lips like a litany, sent a shock through his system.

He paused his ministrations for a moment, lifting his head to look at you.

Your eyes were half-lidded, your cheeks flushed, and your hair slightly disheveled. You looked utterly captivating in that moment, your desire for him written all over your face.

His hands left your body, this time heading to your shirt.

I was about to roll it up until his brain made him stop for a moment.

"Do you want…to do it?" He dared to ask you, seeking your consent. His eyes boring into yours gently.

You met his eyes, seeing the mixture of desire and restraint in his gaze.

Your breath still slightly ragged, you nodded slowly.

"Yes," you replied, your voice barely above a whisper. "I want this. I want you."

As he pulled your shirt off, his hands skimmed over your skin, leaving a trail of goosebumps in their wake.

He paused for a moment, taking in the sight of you, partially undressed before him.

"You're beautiful," he murmured, his eyes roaming over your body, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and admiration.

His words, a simple compliment carrying more weight than usual, caused your heart to skip a beat.

His eyes trailed over your body, taking in every detail as if you were a masterpiece hanging in a gallery.

The way he looked at you, with a mixture of desire and admiration, made you feel both vulnerable and powerful at the same time.

His eyes were fixed on you, taking in every inch of your exposed skin.

"You're perfect," he whispered, his voice thick with emotion.

He leaned down, his lips finding your neck, his mouth leaving a trail of kisses along your collarbone and down your chest. Finding your bra very annoying.

The combination of his touch, his kisses, and his words made you feel like you were slowly unraveling.

His mouth trailing along your skin was driving you insane with need and desire.

His lips trailed down your neck and down your chest until they reached the barrier of your bra. He paused for a moment, his hands gently tracing the edge.

"Can I?" he asked quietly, his fingertips brushing against the fabric.

The way he was handling you, with a mixture of reverence and desire, made you feel both cherished and desired.

His lips returned to your neck, leaving soft, teasing kisses as he waited for your response.

As his fingertips traced the edge of your bra, your heart pounded in anticipation, your body aching for more of his touch.

His request, whispered in a soft, hoarse voice, set your nerves on fire.

You nodded, your voice barely above a whisper, "Yes,"

He didn't need further coaxing. His hands quickly unclasped your bra, freeing your chest from its confinement.

His lips continued their journey, leaving a trail of kisses down your newly bared skin. He seemed to savor every inch of you, as if unable to get enough.

The feeling of his lips on your bare skin was nothing short of maddening.

His hands, now free from the barrier of your bra, roamed freely over your torso, as if he were mapping a new territory.

His hands instinctively went to your breasts, massaging them slowly and gently, touching the tips of your breasts. Causing you to flinch at the coolness of his fingers.

Without further ado, his mouth moved to one of your breasts, his other hand touching the other.

He sucked and nibbled gently, drawing a gasp from your lips.

His mouth on your sensitive skin sent a shiver down your spine, your breath catching as his tongue flicked against one of your nipples.

Your hands tangled in his hair, holding him close, your fingers clenching tightly as he continued his ministrations.

You gasped, arching your back towards him, silently pleading for more of his touch.

His hands continued to explore your body, his touch firm yet gentle, as if trying to memorize every contour.

His fingers traced circles over your hip bone, then moved lower, slipping under the waistband of your pants.

This time he didn't ask, he raised his head and looked at you, with those eyes full of pleading.

Oh, that look you never thought you'd see in him.

The look in his eyes was one you never thought you'd notice coming from him.

It was a silent plea, a silent "Let me take care of you."

Hearing your gasps and slight moans, he wondered why it had taken him so long to cross this line with you.

You could feel the desire growing inside you, a burning need for more contact, more of him.

You raised your hips, silently giving him permission to remove your pants, your breath coming in ragged gasps.

Slowly, he slid your pants down along with underwear in one go, his hands skimming over your skin, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. You could feel his eyes on you, taking in every inch of your exposed body.

He ran his hands gently down your thighs.

Now you were completely naked in front of him, your body on display, vulnerable and exposed.

His gaze roamed over your body, taking in the sight of you in all your glory.

In his eyes you were the most perfect thing that could exist, a goddess, an angel come down from the heavens.

"Beautiful," he whispered, his voice filled with reverence and desire.

He leaned down again, pressing his lips against your stomach, leaving a trail of kisses. Then, he pressed light kisses on your legs, moving closer and closer to where you needed him the most.

Your body was aflame with desire, every touch of his sending your senses into overdrive.

Your legs opened slightly, inviting him closer, silently pleading for more of his touch.

His lips moved over your skin, his kisses growing more insistent as he made his way to the inner part of your thighs.

"Please," you managed to gasp out, desperate for him to touch you where you needed him most.

He chuckled softly against your skin, enjoying the fact that he had you completely at his mercy.

His chuckling set your blood boiling, your body arching towards him in a silent plea.

He knew what you wanted, what you needed, and he was enjoying every second of it.

"Patience, darlin'," he drawled, his lips trailing along the sensitive skin of your inner thighs.

He was taking his time, teasing you, drawing out the pleasure, and driving you insane in the process.

He continued his assault on your inner thighs, leaving gentle bites and kisses, slowly moving closer to your center.

His hands were now firmly gripping your hips, holding you in place, preventing you from bucking up against him in a plea for more contact.

Until after that little torture of his, his lips hovered over your aching center, kissing above your lips, softly and gently.

You were a wreck.

Your body ached for more contact, more of him, and he was purposely taking his time.

Instead, he began to trace small, feather light kisses around your aching core, his lips moving slowly but purposefully, avoiding the place you wanted them most.

You gasped again, barely managing to hold back a whine in protest.

"Please," you repeated, your voice a desperate plea, "Please, Boothill."

He chuckled against your skin again, enjoying the way your body responded to his every touch.

When he finally moved his lips to your center, his tongue lightly flicking against your sensitive bud, you gasped loudly, a shiver running down your spine.

His tongue started to explore your most sensitive parts, flicking and swirling gently, sending waves of pleasure through your body.

Your head fell back against the pillows, your eyes closing as you surrendered to the sensations he was creating.

His tongue's teasing touch against your center sent sparks of pleasure through your body, your breath caught in your throat.

Your hands tangled in his hair again, pulling slightly as he continued to explore you. "So beautiful and sweet," he murmured against your skin, the vibration of his voice adding to the sensations he was causing.

He wrapped his lips around your clit, gently sucking and nibbling, driving you even further into frenzy.

Then, his fingers entered the equation, slowly slipping inside you while his mouth continued to work its magic.

Your body trembled, the combined sensations overwhelming your senses.

You were at his mercy, your body completely under his control, writhing and gasping under his expert ministrations.

His fingers moved inside you, curling and stroking, while his tongue continued to flick against your sensitive bud.

The sensations were quickly building toward a climax, your breath coming in quick gasps as you tried to hold back.

"Boothill.. I can't.. too much.." you managed to gasp out, your body arching off the bed.

He seemed to know exactly how to push your buttons, his mouth and fingers working in perfect harmony to elicit the most intense reactions from you.

You couldn't think straight, his touch sending you into a state of ecstasy that was almost overwhelming.

Your body was caught in a tempest of pleasure, every touch of his tongue and fingers driving you closer to the brink.

His fingers curled inside you, hitting a particularly sensitive spot that made your breathing grow ragged.

It looked like he was licking and eating a candy.

Your fingers gripped in his hair, tugging slightly as the pleasure built within you.

"Oh god," you breathed, your voice a ragged gasp, "Please, I-"

Then, suddenly, he stopped, drawing back just as you were about to reach your climax.

You let out a gasp of frustration, your body aching for release.

"Not yet, darlin'," he murmured against your skin, his lips leaving a trail of kisses along your inner thigh.

At the lack of his lips and tongue on your clitoris, you felt a slight breeze that made you shiver. Not to mention how you felt it pulsating.

His free hand gently massaged your hip, as if trying to reassure you.

Your body was taut like a bowstring, the sudden lack of stimulation leaving you feeling empty and needy.

He slid his fingers out of you, stretching them a little, watching as your juices covered them completely, almost spilling out.

He let out a light chuckle, before bringing his fingers to his mouth, drinking in your delicacy.

Your view, which was clouded with ecstasy, focusing on the scene of him sucking on his fingers, was completely provocative.

It was all too obvious that he was more than needy.

Your breathing grew ragged as you watched him suck on his fingers, your eyes wide.

The sight of him enjoying the taste of you was almost too much to bear.

"You taste so good, darlin'," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "I could do this all night."

When his eyes met yours, that's when you realised.

You had been so focused on your release that you hadn't realised how much he wanted this.

His face flushed, his lips moist.

Oh, he looked so damn needy.

He looked completely undone, like he was restraining himself from taking you right there on the spot.

He was tense, as if he was holding himself back.

Your skin thrumed under his hot gaze, and you could see the way his body reacted to the sight of you sprawled out before him.

It was the cutest thing to see him like that.

You rose slightly from the bed, pushing his chest back now, almost to where you were lying before.

You knew it was now your turn to make him feel good. More than he was.

As you gently pushed him back, reversing your positions, he let out a low growl, but he didn't protest.

He leaned against the wall, watching you with a mixture of curiosity and desire.

He looked absolutely wrecked.

His hair disheveled from your hands, his face flushed, his body thruming with need.

All that for you.

You straddled his hips, sitting on top of him and relishing the position of power you suddenly found yourself in.

Your hands roamed over his chest and bare torso, feeling the firm metal muscles. You could feel the heat radiating off him. His systems were beginning to overheat.

You leaned down, peppering kisses along his neck and jawline, enjoying the way he responded to your touch.

He leaned his head back against the wall, exposing more of his neck to your touch, a low, guttural groan escaping from his throat as your lips and tongue traced a path along his sensitive skin.

His hands gripped your hips, his fingers digging into your skin as you kissed along his neck and jaw.

He let out a low moan when you nibbled on his earlobe.

He was coming to terms with the new sensation of being underneath you.

He was used to taking charge in many situations, but something about letting you take the lead seemed different.

He liked it.

He needed it.

His moans and groans were music to your ears, showing you how much he was enjoying your touches.

His breath was becoming ragged, and his hands held onto your hips tightly, as if anchoring himself.

"Darlin'," he gasped out, his eyes half-lidded as he looked at you.

Your hands began to wander lower, tracing the line of his abdomen and feeling the metal muscles twitch under your touch.

As your hands reached the waistband of his pants, you paused and looked up at him.

"Can I?" you asked, your voice barely above a whisper.

He nodded eagerly, his eyes dark with desire.

He was more than willing to let you continue.

His eyes were dark with desire, his breath coming in short, ragged gasps, and his body was taut with tension.

"Yes," he managed to say, his voice thick with need, "Please."

You tugged on the waistband of his trousers, and he lifted his hips to help you pull them down.

He was begging you, and he didn't care.

As you slid them down his legs, you couldn't help but notice the evidence of his arousal straining against his boxers.

Oh, you forgot that could happen.

You remember that at his request, you made a modification to his robotic body.

Specifically a synthetic limb.

It was one of your best modifications as it was also connected to the nerves that you also gave him. Not to say that his blue blood would help bring it to life when he had to go into action.

You didn't really think you could test if it really worked.

Would you be the first to see if it worked properly? You didn't know.

You hadn't really thought much about it before. After all, it was just a standard modification that you had done. But now, as you saw the physical evidence of his arousal, you couldn't help but wonder if it would work as intended.

Your thoughts were quickly interrupted when he groaned loudly, drawing your attention back to him.

You had started touching his length over his underwear without even realising it.

With just the touch of you, you were surprised to feel the slight warmth that came from it.

He inhaled sharply at the touch, his body tensing even more.

"Please," he repeated, his voice hoarse, "I need you. I need you so bad."

You smiled at their pleas, apparently it was a very good idea to amplify the sensitivity around the area.

He was already a mess, and you had barely touched him yet.

His gasps and moans filled the room, and his eyes were dark with desire.

You could see how badly he needed you, how much he wanted you.

He was begging you, pleading with you to touch him more.

You looked down at the noticeable bulge in his boxers and then back up at his face.

"You're so beautiful," you murmured, "So needy."

He let out another gasp, his body arching towards you as you continued to touch him through the fabric.

After a while of appreciating the good view you had, you pulled down his underwear, revealing his length.

His breath hitched as you pulled his underwear down, exposing him to your view.

He felt so vulnerable, so exposed, but he didn't care.

"Oh god," you blurted out at the sight of his limb.

At first glance you could tell it was working properly.

You were kind of proud of it.

He shuddered at your words, the sensation of your eyes on him enough to make his body shiver.

He was so sensitive, so receptive to your every touch, and it was all thanks to your modifications.

You moved down towards his arousal, cupping it with your hands and releasing light kisses that went from base to tip.

He let out a guttural moan as you kissed him, the sensation sending waves of pleasure through his body.

Your touch was light and teasing, driving him wild with need.

"Oh, sweetheart, that's so good," he gasped out, his body arching towards you as you continued to touch and tease him.

He was putty in your hands, completely at your mercy.

He had never felt this way before, completely surrendered to another person.

And he loved every second of it.

He looked down at you, his gaze full of desire and need.

Without waiting too long, you licked his tip, without taking your eyes off his face.

You were beginning to like the way he was moving beneath you.

He groaned loudly at the feeling of your tongue on his tip, his body arching slightly off the bed.

He couldn't believe the feelings you were invoking in him.

He felt like he was on fire.

He needed more your mouth, more of your touch, more of you.

He reached down, tangling his fingers in your hair, trying to hold himself.

To that, you smiled.

And, without further delay, you shoved as much of his length as you could into your mouth.

His entire body trembled as you took him into your mouth.

He could barely believe how good it felt, how good you felt.

"Oh god," he gasped out, his grip on your hair tightening.

He was completely lost in the sensations you were giving him, unable to think clearly.

He felt like he was on the brink of explosion, barely holding on.

Your mouth felt like heaven against him.

You continued, lowering and raising your head, while also moving your hands up and down his length.

You looked up at him from time to time, just to watch him come completely undone.

His face was flushed, his eyes half-lidded, his mouth open and panting.

His breathing was ragged, and he was making little gasps and moans that sounded like a mixture of your name and incoherent praise.

He was a mess, and it was all your doing.

He was completely under your control, and he loved every second of it.

His breaths were coming in short, ragged gasps, and he was clinging onto you like a lifeline.

His body was trembling, his systems threatening to overheat.

"I'm close," he gasped out, his grip on your hair tightening even more.

He was teetering on the edge, completely at your mercy.

"Please," he panted, "Please don't stop."

You loved the way he was begging you, the way he was completely at your mercy.

You didn't stop, if anything you increased the pace, determined to push him over the edge.

His grip on you grew tighter as he got closer and closer to the brink.

"Oh, swetheart," he groaned, his voice thick with need, "I can't- I'm gonna-"

And, before I reached my limit, your movements stopped, ceasing to suck his length.

You laughed lightly, catching your breath for a moment as you watched him frown in frustration.

He stared at you, his body still shaking with need, his breathing ragged.

He looked completely wrecked, and he was not happy that you had stopped.

"Why'd you stop?" he gasped out, his voice full of frustration and need.

He was so close, so damn close.

He needed you.

But you just smiled at him, enjoying the way he was squirming beneath you.

You smiled as you stood up a little, stretching your back.

"Patience, sweetheart." You somewhat mockingly repeated his words he gave you moments before.

He groaned in frustration, his body still thrumming and begging for release.

He wanted you, he needed you desperately.

How could you be so cruel?

He watched as you stood there in front of him, your smirk making him even more frustrated.

"You're a tease," he grumbled, his voice rough with need.

You positioned yourself on his lap, without sitting down.

With one of your hands you cupped his cheek, as you placed a soft kiss on his lips.

"You were a good boy."

His breath hitched as you cupped his cheek, and he leaned into your touch, despite his frustration.

Your words made him shiver, the praise stirring something in him.

"I was," he murmured, his voice slightly pouty.

He was still needy, still on edge, but he loved the way you were handling him.

He wrapped his arms around your waist, holding you close, as he nuzzled your neck, breathing in your scent.

"Can I have my reward now?" he murmured against your skin.

"Heh, of course you do." You said, as with one of your free hands you grabbed his length, positioning the tip at your entrance.

He gasped at the feel of your hand on him, and he held onto you tighter.

He was so sensitive, every touch sending sparks through his senses.

"You're so perfect…," he whispered, his breath hot on your skin.

As he felt you position him at your entrance, he felt a shiver of anticipation. He needed you, he needed to be inside you.

He was on the brink of losing his mind from desire and need.

"Please," he pleaded, "Please don't make me wait any longer."

You smiled, as you slowly tried to make his length spill inside you.

Which in itself was difficult and painful for you, as this was your first time.

He could feel how tight you were, and he felt a pang of desire mixed with guilt.

As you tried to take him in, he noticed your slight discomfort, and he immediately stopped you.

He looked up at you, concern in his gaze, and he gently lifted you off him.

"Sweetheart, are you alright? You're hurtin'," he asked, his voice filled with worry.

He was still needy and desperate, but he didn't want to hurt you.

He cupped your cheek, his thumb gently stroking your skin, as he watched you intently.

You tried to hide your discomfort, but he saw right through it.

His concern and tenderness made you feel warm all over.

"I'm fine," you said, trying to downplay the pain you were feeling.

"I just need a moment to adjust," you added, a slight tremble in your voice.

He looked at you for a moment, his eyes searching yours, looking for any signs of discomfort.

He gently caressed your leg, his fingers tracing light circles on your skin.

"We can do it slowly, without pressure, my dear" he said, his voice gentle.

Your body relaxed at his words, grateful for his understanding and patience. He placed a gentle kiss on your forehead.

He took his time, gently guiding himself inside you once again, with great care.

He was still sensitive, craving your touch, but his main priority was ensuring that you were comfortable.

He slowly pushed himself in, his eyes locked on your face, watching for any sign of discomfort.

He could see the mixture of pain and pleasure on your face, the way you chewed your lips, trying to hide your discomfort.

He continued to move slowly and gently, giving you time to adjust to the new sensation. You took deep breaths, trying to relax and get used to the feeling.

It was slow, and it hurt, but having him be attentive and considerate, made you feel safe.

As he gently slid further in, the pain began to subside, replaced by an unfamiliar but not unpleasant feeling. He stopped once he was fully inside you, pausing for a moment.

He leaned in, placing gentle kisses on your face, trying to soothe you.

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice tender and worried, his gaze fixed on you.

You looked up at him, meeting his gaze, and gave him a small nod to let him know it was ok to continue.

His gentle and patient manner was making your heart flutter, and the way he watched you with such care made you feel even more connected to him.

"Y'know, sweetheart? This is my first time too." He said, still not moving.

He tucked one of your hairs behind your ear. As he placed several kisses on your cheeks in an affectionate way.

You blinked in surprise at his words, not expecting that revelation.

You really thought he would have done this many times by now because of the way he behaved, you were wrong apparently.

The realization that this was his first time too, and that he was just as nervous and uncertain, added a new layer of intimacy to the moment.

You reached up, cupping his cheek, and gave him a gentle smile.

"I didn't know." you said, your voice soft, "You're being so kind and patient with me."

Then you reached up, running a hand through his hair, feeling its texture and smoothness between your fingers.

He nuzzled into your touch, closing his eyes and enjoying the sensation.

He felt a little vulnerable admitting that it was his first time too, worried you might think less of him. But the way you smiled at him, the warm touch of your hand on his cheek, made any anxiety melt away.

He leaned into your touch, enjoying the feeling of your fingers combing through his hair. It was soothing and grounding, helping to steady his racing thoughts and nerves.

He gently began to move again, slowly and carefully, still watchful of your reaction.

He watched as you ran your hands through his hair, his eyes fluttering closed for a moment.

"Besides, I wanna make sure you're enjoying this just as much as I am." He whispered, his breath warm on your skin.

You shivered as he began to move again, the gentle friction sending small tremors through your body.

The way he was moving inside you was still a bit uncomfortable, but the pain was beginning to fade and be replaced by a different kind of sensation.

You closed your eyes, letting yourself get lost in the sensations you were feeling. He was being so considerate, taking his time and making sure you were comfortable.

His words made you smile, and you opened your eyes to meet his gaze.

"I am enjoying it," you replied, "more than I ever imagined it could be."

Your hand continued to run through his hair, and you pulled him closer, pressing your forehead against his.

His heart skipped a beat as you pulled him closer, a warmth spreading through his chest.

He was relieved and happy to hear that you were enjoying it. All he wanted was for you to feel good and safe with him.

He continued to move gently, trying to find a pace that was pleasurable for both of you.

He relished in the feeling of your hand in his hair, and he loved the way your body felt against his own.

"You're so beautiful, sweetheart," he murmured, his voice thick with desire, "I could lose myself in you forever."

He leaned in, kissing your neck and collarbone. He opened his mouth to bite your neck, leaving a mark much more noticeable than the others he had left on your thighs.

The feeling of his mouth on your neck sent a shiver down your spine, and you let out a soft gasp as he bit down.

You could feel his teeth sinking into your skin, and you knew it would leave a mark, a reminder of this moment.

You tilted your head back, giving him more access to your neck, silently encouraging him.

The sensation was a mixture of pleasure and pain, but you didn't mind. It felt possessive.

Claiming. You wanted him to claim you, to make sure that everyone knew that you were his.

You arched your back, pressing closer against him, encouraging him to continue.

"Please," you murmured, your voice low and wanton. "Don't stop."

He was sensitive, and the feel of you around him was almost overbearing.

He felt your body arch against his, your voice low and pleading, and it made him shiver with desire.

He loved the way you reacted to his touch, the way you leaned into him and asked for more.

Hearing the words "Don't stop" spill from your lips was like music to his ears.

He continued his assault on your neck, his mouth moving to new spots, nibbling and biting and sucking, marking you as his own.

Instinctively he moved his hand to one of your breasts, pulling the tip and massaging it.

He began to move a little faster, a little deeper, his pleasure increasing. He groaned against your skin.

The feel of his hand on your breast sent ripples of pleasure through your body, your breath catching in your throat as he teased and played with your nipple.

The combination of his mouth on your neck and his hand on your breast was almost overwhelming. You let out a soft moan, arching your back in response.

As he began to move faster and deeper, you felt a wave of sensations wash over you. The pain had faded, replaced by a pleasure unlike anything you had ever experienced.

You could feel him beginning to lose himself.

Unconsciously, your hand moved down to your clit, touching yourself as you moved your hips slightly with his every movement.

That increased the pleasure you felt, making your inner walls clench at his length.

He looked down at you, his gaze filled with a mixture of desire and awe.

He was lost in you, drowning in your scent, your touch, the way you moved against him, the sounds you made. He couldn't get enough of you.

As he watched you touch yourself, his breath caught in his throat. Seeing you give yourself pleasure while he was inside you was an image he was sure to never forget.

He groaned, unable to keep his own pleasure contained.

"You're so perfect, sweetheart," he gasped out, his words interrupted by his ragged breaths.

He kept moving, faster and deeper, his mouth never leaving your neck. Every gasp and moan that escaped your lips only spurred him on.

Every movement, every touch, every breath felt like a shock to your body.

You were lost in the sensations, your mind unable to form coherent thoughts.

"Please," you panted, "Please, I need you-"

You weren't sure how much more you could take, the pleasure was almost too much to bear.

The combination of his words, his touch, and his movements were making it hard for you to think straight.

Your mind was swirling with sensation, and you couldn't focus on anything but the feel of him inside you, and the pleasure he was bringing you.

One of your hands grabbed onto his hair, the other one still rubbing your clit. A constant stream of soft moans and gasps was falling from your lips.

He walked away from your neck, having left countless marks all over the area.

His face could not have been redder at that moment.

The sight of him with narrowed eyes, tilting his head back and mouth open, trying to formulate sentences and words that would not come out, being replaced with incoherent sounds.

It was simply a delight for you.

He tried to form a coherent sentence, but the words were escaping him. His mind was consumed with desire, his body on the brink of ecstasy.

You knew he was entering his climax, as his movements became somewhat erratic and slightly sloppy.

And, him doing so, hit your g-spot.

He was losing control, his body moving on its own, driven by pure animalistic need. He wanted to hold on, to make this moment last, but he knew he was reaching his limit.

He leaned down, his forehead resting against yours, his breath coming in ragged gasps.

He looked at you, trying to steady his breathing and speak. But all that came out were ragged gasps and incoherent sounds.

"I wanna-" he pleaded.

For that, your eyes were full of tears of pleasure.

You could feel him reaching his limit, the way his breathing was growing more labored and uneven.

The way he was trying to speak, but unable to form words, only adding to the intensity of the moment.

You were lost in the sensations, your body on fire. Each movement, each gasp from him was driving you closer and closer to the edge.

"Please," he pleaded once again, his voice ragged and needy, "can I…?"

His words trailed off, but you knew what he was asking for. And you were more than willing to give it to him.

You could see the desperation in his eyes. He wanted, no - needed to release.

He was on the edge, and you were right there with him.

You could feel him getting close, his movements becoming more uncoordinated, his breaths coming in short gasps.

"Please," you whispered, your voice trembling.

You were so close yourself, teetering on the brink of ecstasy. You could feel it building deep inside, like a coil winding tighter and tighter.

He turned his lips to yours, both of you stifling your moans and groans.

He moved his lips against yours, his tongue tracing your lips, seeking entry into your mouth.

You parted your lips, allowing him in. The kiss was messy and needy, both of you clinging to each other in search of more contact.

He let out a low moan against your mouth. He tried to hold back, to draw out the moment a little longer, but he was too far gone.

He looked into your eyes, his gaze pleading.

"I'm gonna-" he gasped out, his voice strained.

But he couldn't finish the sentence. He was completely lost in the sensation, the pleasure almost overwhelming him.

He buried his face into your neck, his body shivering against yours, as he held on to you tightly.

"I'm gonna-" he repeated, his voice barely above a whisper.

You could feel him on the edge, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. He was close, and so were you.

"Me too," you breathed out, your voice trembling with need, "I'm so close. Please-"

You gripped onto him.

He moved his lips to your ear, his warm breath tickling your skin.

And so, giving a few more deep penetrations, he reached his release. At the same time as you, as he pressed hard on your sweet spot, he made you come without hesitation.

As the waves of pleasure washed over him, he shuddered against you.

He let out a guttural moan, his body tensing up, as he released himself deep inside you.

He held onto you tightly, as he rode out the waves of pleasure. His eyes were closed, his breathing labored.

He tried to speak, to form words, but the only sound that came out were unintelligible gasps and moans.

For a few moments, you both were lost in the intensity of the moment. All that could be heard was the sound of your erratic breaths.

He collapsed against you, his body trembling from the aftershocks of pleasure. His forehead rested against your shoulder, his breaths ragged and heavy.

He wrapped his arms around you, holding you close, as if afraid to let go. He buried his face into your neck, inhaling your scent.

For a few moments, neither of you spoke. You both laid there, your bodies tangled together, simply enjoying the afterglow.

His breathing slowly returned to normal, his body relaxed against yours.

He lifted his head from your neck, looking down at you.

"You're so amazing," he murmured, his voice husky.

He cupped your face, rubbing his thumb against your cheek. His eyes were soft and filled with tenderness.

"That was…" he trailed off, unable to find the words.

He let out a low chuckle.

"There are no words to describe how incredible that was."

You let out a shaky breath, a sated smile on your face.

You smiled weakly, still feeling a little boneless from the intense pleasure.

"Yeah," you agreed.

But you couldn't find the words either.

"Intense" was an understatement.

You turned your face into his hand, nuzzling into his palm, enjoying the feel of his cold skin against yours.

"I felt the same way," you replied, your voice soft and gentle.

He leaned down, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead.

"You're perfect," he murmured, his lips brushing against your skin. "Absolutely perfect."

He shifted slightly, pulling out of you with a soft groan.

He gently placed you on the bed as he leaned further back on the bed, no longer sitting up.

He pulled one of the blankets off the bed and placed it over his body, then took you in his arms, placing you on top of him, making it slightly more comfortable for you than just being pressed against his metal body.

He pressed you against his chest, your head resting on his shoulder.

For a few moments, you both lay there in silence, enjoying the closeness and the feel of each other's bodies.

His arms cradled you spectacularly, in an attempt to make your body try to unwind from the previous physical activity. Then he ran his fingers through your hair, his touch soft and soothing.

"I didn't hurt you, did I?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

You lay on top of him, your head resting on his shoulder, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he breathed.

His fingers were gentle as they threaded through your hair.

When he spoke, you could hear the concern in his voice.

You shook your head, lifting your face to look up at him.

"No, you didn't hurt me," you assured him. "You were perfect."

You shifted slightly, snuggling deeper against him.

"Now I'm just very tired.."

He chuckled softly, hearing you say that you were tired.

He continued running his fingers through your hair, rubbing soothing circles on your scalp.

"Exhausted, huh? I take that as a compliment."

He smiled, feeling a sense of pride that he had managed to tire you out so thoroughly.

He gently shifted under you, making himself more comfortable beneath you.

"You can sleep, sweetheart. I'll be right here."

He covered you with the blanket you were on top of, making sure you didn't get cold.

You melted into his touch, the feel of his fingers in your hair soothing and relaxing.

You let out a soft laugh, a little delirious from the lack of energy.

You snuggled against him, feeling more relaxed than ever before.

His touch was soothing, his fingers in your hair creating tingles on your scalp.

You let out a small sigh, feeling the exhaustion start to wash over you.

"Thanks," you murmured, your eyes drifting shut as you nuzzled against his chest.

He chuckled again as he felt you relax against him, your body sinking into his embrace.

He continued to lightly massage your scalp, knowing that it would help you fall asleep faster.

He felt your breath start to slow, your body growing heavier in his arms.

He pressed a gentle kiss to the top of your head, feeling a sense of contentment wash over him.

"Sleep, sweetheart," he whispered.

Your eyes opened slowly, getting a little used to the light coming through the window.

Attempting to stretch out, you felt trapped.

You looked up, seeing Boothill lying there. His eyes were closed.

Perhaps he was recharging his battery, you looked down again.

As your eyes cleared, you saw your legs and torso almost uncovered, which caused you to wake up completely.

You felt an incredible heaviness throughout your body, as if every bone and joint ached.

Mentally recoiling in an attempt to remember why, your eyes opened wide.

You'd had sex with him, in someone else's house, out loud. Your face turned red, "what a shame," you thought.

You sighed, leaning your head back on his chest.

Oh, but before you could try to get any more sleep, your hand reached as far as it could to your trousers, which were at one end of the bed.

When you managed to reach them, you pulled out your phone, going straight into the chat with your roommate.

You deleted the incomplete message you didn't get to send yesterday, typed in a new one and then proceeded to send it.

It read; "I rode a cowboy".

The chat almost immediately began to fill up with messages, none of which you read, proceeding to toss your phone to the side, closing your eyes again.

©cherrylovelycherry do not repost, copy, translate, modify

[luveline]

need need NEED more hop x reader w el they are the CUTEST

“So she’s coming?” El asks. 

Hopper pushes a glass of orange juice in her direction. “Mm-hm.” 

“And she wants to see me.” 

“Yeah, kid, she wants to see you.” 

Eleven’s hair curls just under her ears. Hopper hadn’t suspected her hair would be curly once it began to grow, but it waves gently, and tighter the longer it becomes. He doesn’t know how to take care of it. He only just taught her how to use shampoo and conditioner without leaving all the suds in. 

She scratches it. “What are you looking at?” 

“Nothing.” He ruffles her hair. “Eat your breakfast. You can get changed when you’re done. You need me to help you find something?” 

“No. I like choosing.” 

Hopper knows. She isn’t good at matching yet, but she’ll get there. 

She eats her breakfast too quickly, doesn’t drink her juice, and doesn’t put her plate in the sink before she goes, but Hopper doesn’t bother getting mad. He’s trying to be less moody. He’s also trying to be understanding; she’s learning to be a normal kid. Most normal kids are slobs. 

“Can we have dessert?” El shouts from her room. 

“You can have a snack later.” 

“Please?” 

“You can have some chips once you get dressed. Are you still hungry, or–?” 

“Snacks,” she says, turning on her radio. 

Hopper nods, laughing to himself when there’s a knock at the door. He’s been waiting to see you all weekend, and he walks to the door with a terrible smugness about him to let you in. 

“Hello,” he says, wedging the creaky frame open with his shoe. 

“Hi, handsome.” You look up into his eyes, fresh-faced like you’ve had a good scrub and dressed for a day in the house in cuffless sweatpants and a hoodie he thinks might be his. “Wow, nice shirt, hotshot. What is that? The Hawkins Police Department fun run of eighty two? That’s vintage.” 

He leans down to kiss you hello. 

“Oh, hi,” you flirt. 

You’re confident when you know you’re loved, he’s found. Still the homespun woman he knew you to be, but affectionate once you’re comfortable. He smiles into your mouth and pulls you tight to his chest, lifting you off of your feet for a millisecond before placing you back down. 

“Where’s my girl?” 

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” he says. 

“El?” you call. You slide around him to find her but turn back, “Did you ask her about the hugging?” 

“She says it’s fine.” 

“Like, she wants to?” 

It had been a strange conversation. Hopper is used to telling El things, or being told things by her. He didn’t ask her what she likes for breakfast, he just kept guessing until he found the right stuff. She never asked him if she could sit in his side during movies, she just inched closer until he put his arm around her. 

“She wants to,” Hopper says. She’d seemed perturbed by the question, sure, but it ended with her happy little smile through a handful of popcorn. 

“El?” you call again. 

“Kid! Your best friend is here!” Hopper shouts. 

Thunder from her bedroom, a door swung open and slapping the wall. “Y/N?” she asks, the skirt of her dress swinging as she pauses in the doorway. 

You smile and step forward. You’re tentative but excited all the same, laughing as you wrap your arms around her shoulders, and pat her back. “Hi, beautiful.” 

“Where have you been? It’s two weeks.” 

“Yeah? I didn’t mean to not see you for so long, I’m sorry.” 

“Hop says you have lots to do.” 

“There’s a leak in my bathroom,” you take her by the shoulders. “Aw, this is nice. When’d you get this? It’s light and summery.” 

“Hop… from a catalogue.” 

You raise your brows at him, grinning. “That’s nice. How many did you get?” 

“We got five.” 

“Five! From the catalogue!” You hold her hand. “Hop must really like you, huh? Who can blame him?” 

El looks down at your joined hands. Hopper feels his skeptic heart softening. “He likes you, too.” 

“But do we like him?” you joke, letting go of her hand to put your arm behind her back instead. You give Hopper a look. 

“What?” he asks. 

“I was thinking we’d go out for milkshakes?” 

Hopper bites his tongue. El has a birth certificate now, she’s his daughter, she can’t be taken, but going out with her into the world draws stares and derision alike. People can tell she’s abnormal, and he can’t stand that. She doesn’t deserve to be gawked at for talking a little slowly, or messing with stuff she doesn’t understand. 

But he doesn’t want her feeling punished for those things either. 

“Get your jacket, El.” She beams, rushing for her room. “She’s gonna love the jukebox,” Hopper says. 

You meander back into his arms, kissing his stubbly cheek. He pretends to nudge you away.

[katiascraft]

Hi!! I've been obsess with your works

Now, hear me out because your poll stroke an idea in me 👀👀

How about: Argentine!Reader x Oscar Piastri, and starts teaching him spanish so he can understand Franco's Interviews

Thank you!!

Ooooh yes yes yes!!! Here it is and I hope you like it 💌 thank you for your requests and support! I really appreciate it mwak mwak 😙 (sorry it’s a bit late but better late than never!)

——————————————————————————————

“Indirectas Directas” | OP81

Part 1 -> “Made in Argentina: The Series” (Oscar’s Version)

Parings: Oscar Piastri x Argentine!Reader.

Summary: you and Oscar have known each other since your best friend Franco Colapinto started competing in F3. You always had a crush on the Australian pilot. You have been friends for a while now but the friendship got closer since Franco got in F1 and you can see each other every race weekend. The butterflies starts for both of you. Do you really just wanna be friends? You teaching him “piropos” from your country may have subliminal messages.

Now playing: “IMÁN (Two of Us)” by Maria Becerra.

Word count: +1.2k.

Warnings: a few curse words. Pure fluff. Not a native English speaker so there could be (so many) errors. Not proofread.

Author’s note: alrightyyyyy I hope this is good! And I really recommend Maria! I love herrrr my queen!! I did my best with the piropos jajaja Don’t forget to like or reblog! And follow me so we can be friends :3 (and drink mate together!)

MASTERLIST

“Hola, todo bien?” Oscar said carefully and weirdly remembering what you taught him a few seconds ago. You nodded proud of his Spanish.

“Todo bien, ¿qué contas?” You said in your Argentine accent making him open his eyes wildly panicking. He loved your voice in Spanish; it was slightly higher pitched than in English. In English you have a deeper voice for some reason. Of course he asked about it and you explained it may be because of the pronunciation of the words. It's really so different from one language to the other.

“What the hell did you ask?” He said giggling a little, making you laugh too.

“I asked you what’s up” you explained and wrote down that phrase in the little notebook he brought with a pen. All mc claren branded.

The friendship between you two has become closer with each race. You were good friends before but not that close. It was something either of you couldn’t explain. Like your bodies were driven directly to one another unconsciously. You didn’t want to think too much about it. You didn’t want to overthink it.

His face was like ‘oh yeah right it makes sense’. He smiled at your handwriting so rounded and legible. Unlike his. His was a little messy.

“Yo estoy carrera hoy” he tried to answer it without asking how to. You laughed and he blushed. “This is embarrassing, it's really hard to connect the words” he said shyly and you found it so cute.

“It was close though don’t feel bad. Spanish it’s super complicated for non-Latin language speakers. We have like 20 tenses and shit. It’s a mess” you explained to cheer him up. He loved the fact you knew so much about languages because you also knew how to talk Portuguese and Italian pretty perfectly in his opinion. He has heard you even trying to speak French with Pierre last weekend. He was impressed.

“Yeah I get it now” he said grinning. “Must be nice to flirt in Spanish like I don’t know like you automatically sound sexier and more interesting” he said, making you laugh. “No really like I heard Carlos talking to an interviewer the other day and I think I am in love actually” he said, making you laugh even more. He loved making you laugh. Your laugh was like a drug to him. You looked way too cute doing so.

“Well I don’t know actually but in Argentina we have some top level flirting like really great phrases. Let me teach you some. Wait I’ll look for some on google so I can help myself remember” you said excited about it because you knew it was gonna be bizarre and funny at best.

“Phrases? Like roses are red and that kind of stuff?” He asked curiously and you nodded looking at your phone.

He couldn’t help but get distracted by the way you looked. Like every other race weekend you were wearing one of the million Argentina tees you have in your wardrobe. Your skin was glowing because of the sunscreen making your freckles stand out even more. You dyed your hair blond a few weeks ago and it looked incredible on you. He wouldn’t have expected that change but it looked so good on you. Anyway, he was convinced that anything you do to your hair will always look good always. Because you were beautiful. And he thought that was dangerous. You’re supposed to be friends right? And he knows Franco will kill him if he finds out he likes you. But he couldn’t help it. You were so interesting to him. You went everywhere with your mate and sang a lot of football songs he didn’t understand but you looked so happy singing them with Franco. Like he was captivated by your foreign beauty. So different from Australia or Europe or even the United States. You were loud and always laughing. Your bright smile always makes everyone so happy. All of the boys loved you. You were the life of every party. And you also knew so much about formula 1 it was impressive. Then you told him you were studying for an engineering degree and everything made sense. You loved the sport. And you were the proud friend. He loved that you were so passionate about everything. Even now that you have this teacher and student dynamic, you take it so seriously. He loved it. And he liked it even more because he knew that you were a teacher back in your country. And he could see how much you love to teach and you were actually really good at it.

“Alright I found the first one!” You said already laughing. “Okay ready?” He nodded, smiling, waiting for your magic voice to pronounce the weirdest shit but sound amazing.

“Mi amor, quien fuera cemento para sostener ese monumento” you said and started laughing because his face was a poem.

“What the hell?” He said laughing as well. “What does it mean? It really sounded terrible, " he said dramatically.

“It means: my love, who could be cement to hold that monument” he bursted out laughing.

“What? I don’t know if it’s geniuous or rude to be honest” he said sincerely making you laugh.

“Oh my god that was so cringe I love it” you said looking for another one.

“Don’t even try to make me pronounce that last one please” he warned you funny. You denied with your head.

“Okay I found another one listen: tu con tantas curvas y yo sin frenos. Try to translate it” you said because there were words you already taught him.

“Oh my god alright. Repeat it please?” You repeated it and he thought for a few seconds.

“Uh tu curvas y yo frenos?” He said confused. You giggled a little but applauded proudly.

“Yes! You're getting better Oscky” you said sweetly. “It was: you with so many corners and I have no brakes” you said, smiling funny.

“Oh like the curves of the body right?” You nodded at his questions. “Oh alright I get it! So is like double meaning”

“Exactly” you answered. “Alright last one: besar es el lenguaje del amor, te importaría comenzar una conversación conmigo?” You said blushing. Your subconscious chose this one without leaving you a warning.

“You said something with kiss right?” He asked and you nodded. He blushed too. You were like two teenagers blushing and giggling.

“I said: kissing it’s the language of love. Would you mind starting a conversation?” You explained.

“You wanna kiss me?” His words slipped through his lips.

“Maybe I do” your words slipped through your lips.

You were both so red. An awkward silence made its presence.

“Oscar, sorry to interrupt but Zac is calling us both. Hey y/n, you good darling?” Lando appeared out of nowhere so save yourselves from the worst silence situation you’ve ever been into. Lando hugged you kissing your cheek and you smiled at him. Oscar took his things ready to go.

“All good Land. Hope you have a good reunion. See you after the practices!” You said waving to him. And Oscar gave you a cheeky smile.

Holy shit you’re fucked.

[p0ssywhippedcream]

Zuko has been with the gang for a while now and you've been able to teach him how to do most any chore. He can set up tents, bathe Appa and even dry clothes off without lighting them on fire (it happened a couple times tho). But the one thing he just can't get is cooking.

He stands beside you as you lower a pot over the fire gently, his eyebrows knitted. He watches as you angle it so there's no chance of it falling as it small bubbles appear; signaling its commence of boiling. You sit down on a flat stone and take out a small knife, gesturing a c'mere motion with the blade.

"Can you hand me the tomatoes?" He grabs them and passes them over, ears flushing when your hand brushes his.

"You're going to boil them?" You giggle and shake your head.

"No, this is for the broth and the beef. Everybody has been craving it but Aang is a vegetarian, remember?"

He nods and pops a squat next to you on a large rock. Your ankles touch and his toes flex. "You're making him something separate." You agreed with a hum and begin to slice the fruit over a bowl in your lap.

"That's nice of you." You glance up briefly and give him a sheepish grin. He finds it endearing.

As you focus your attention back to the task at hand, Zuko wonders what he should say next. Before he can really consider it, you toss a piece of tomato at Momo and ask, "Your uncle makes tea right?"

"Uh, yeah. Uncle loves tea."

"How come you haven't learned how to?"

He doesn't want to admit that he didn't pay attention when he should've, when he had time to notice how Iroh did it. "I wasn't taught."

"Do you want me to teach you?" You look up and pause your slicing. The bowl has a small stack of tomato piled inside that tumbles when you shake it.

"I'm not very good at uh.. making things." You snicker, remembering when he burned lettuce a couple weeks ago.

"Yeah, I noticed," You smile to let him know you're teasing and he returns it a little shyer. "I could, though. Teach you. You don't have to be good at it."

"What's the point of teaching me if I'm not good at it?"

"I like spending time with you." You shrug and reach for an avocado across him. Your arm is just too short and he takes the opportunity to grab it for you, turning his head so you don't see his blush. "And you'd get the hang of it, tea is like.. your birthright."

Zuko chuckles. He always thought his birthright was violence. He wonders if it still is. He doesn't say that. "Because Uncle owned a tea shop?"

"Yeah," You laugh, "And you can use your fire bending, yunno? But I'm not sure if you have the patience for it."

"Why's that?" Suddenly Sokka is next to him, holding a pile of sticks and asking you where you want them. You point next to the fire and notice the water jumping in the pot. Standing up, you motion for the broth ingredients and Zuko hands you the pre-mixed bowl. Sokka is quickly distracted by Toph demanding to know where Aang went and Zuko turns back to you.

The crackle of the fire comforts the atmosphere as the sun sets, giving your face an orange hue that dances dramatically from your chin to your nose. You tuck a piece of hair away and Zuko can see the way your eyes glitter in the soft glow, your pupils swallowing the color of their rims.

It's silent for a bit, Zuko simply watching as you stir the pot and occasionally call out for Sokka and Toph to stop arguing. You set down the ladle and pick up a bowl of assorted vegetables and fruits, passing it to Zuko.

"Can you find that bread from the village? I think it's in Katara's bag?" He disappears to rummage and returns holding a half-eaten loaf.

"Okay, that should be enough," You remark as you turn away from cooking and towards his returning figure. You make eye contact with him and your nose wrinkles in the moonlight as you smile, "Can you cut that in half and make a sandwich?"

He sits down and follows your instructions, first wiping the knife you'd used earlier before slipping it in the loaf and beginning to separate it. His dominant hand slices down as he keeps it steady in the other and as he gets to the end, he takes his chance to look at you.

Your feet are bare on the ground, a little dirty and as you shift from side to side, your heels lift enough he can see your bridges. A daffodil is stuck to the bottom of your left foot, staring at him before being engulfed in a step again. You move around the pot, pushing the ingredients stuck to the side back in the middle and the flower is left upside down on a rock.

His finger burns in pain and he notices a small cut. He had finished slicing the bread and had dug into his hand. Cursing, he sets aside your assignment and stands up holding his hand as blood flows slowly. You notice immediately and rush over. You bend down and rip a bit of your skirt, wrapping it around his hand and shushing him back down onto the rock again.

"It's not too deep, you should be okay." He nods, hissing as the fabric rubs the sensitive flesh. "It hurts?"

"Yeah." You press his hand towards you, checking it again and clutching it from the palm.

"You can go back to cooking." You look up at him confused and he continues, "It might burn."

"It's fine, it needs to marinate. You need my attention more."

The firelight covers the furious burning of his face, "Are you sure? It's a small cut."

Your expression is hard to see in the dark but the coy fluttering of your features is obvious enough. You're nervous, and a shade darker on your cheeks and oh, you're blushing too.

"I care about you." You murmur and it's a blessing he hears it.

"I- I care about you too," He offers, the urge to look away would be worse if you weren't already doing that. He watches the twitch of your nose as your smile takes your lips again. You meet his gaze and he realizes how close you are. He feels your hot breath on his face and leans in just a bit more. "You look really... really pretty."

Your eyes crinkle in the corners as your mouth spreads wider and reveals your teeth, dimples making his heart flutter as he confesses, "You're glowing. The- the fire makes you glow."

You digest his words with a gentle laugh covered by your hand. "Yeah," You pause and quirk your head to the side, "You do."

He wants to faint and of course he doesn't know what to say. You help him out again and suddenly your nose is brushing his. "You like me?"

He nods because he's not sure he can speak without squeaking.

"I like you too.." Your words are felt on his lips as you get even closer. Your eyes dart across his face, seemingly checking for affirmation before your mouth is on his and all the blood rushes to his head. His hand comes up to hold your head as he kisses you back. For a second, it's so amazing as you lick across his bottom lip until pain is shooting up his hand and he has to pull away.

Your hair had brushed his still open cut and he cradled his hand a little closer to himself as you re-examine it. "Sorry.."

Zuko looks at you like you're crazy, "Don't be sorry."

You glance up and away, still flustered.

"I've liked you for so long," His admission fills the night wind and you prompt him to continue with wide eyes. He's a little quieter as he finishes with, "Since Ba Sing Se."

He misses your voice dearly as he waits for your answer. He gets it in the form of giggles ticklish as butterflies. He watches you with curiosity until you say, "I was wrong, you are patient."

He laughs too now and you both shake beside the fire with hands holding bellies. The spurt of broth leaping out of the pot brings you back and you scramble up to stir it. Zuko watches as you step over the daffodil again and it flips upright, showing him that it was two, smushed so closely it looked like one. He looks up at you in admiration as you taste the stew and feels a surge of affection for whatever luck landed him at your side tonight.

"You were wrong too," His face contorts in confusion and you elaborate, "You're good at making things... you made me like you."

He's the luckiest guy in the fire nation. He goes to tell you but you speak first. "And I want to teach you how to make tea, but I think I should let Iroh. When we find him."

Zuko's left with a mouth hanging open and a heart stuck between missing his Uncle and loving you for all your kindness and thoughtful nature. He settles on both. "I don't know if he'll forgive me."

You make a strange face as you gaze at him over the open flame, it looks intense in the orange heat. "You don't give his love for you enough credit."

Then you're coming over and pecking him on the cheek, making him dizzy again. You bring your lips to his ear and whisper "I think he'll do anything if you let him teach you to make tea."

His smile is warm and flustered when you teasingly add, "I would, and I like you a little bit less than he does."

[suugarbabe]

[Chapter 7]

Word count: 5.4k

Warnings: SMUT, dom!reader, sub!mattheo, male!masterbation, 18+ content below the cut, MDNI!!

Warmth. That’s what you felt pressed against your back and across your middle as you slowly started to blink your eyes awake. You were confused at first, thinking maybe you were dreaming the sensations that you felt, but looking down at your waist and seeing the tattooed hand that was splayed across your stomach confirmed: Mattheo had stayed through the night. You stretched your arms out in front of you, stretching out your muscles from sleep and the other previous nights activity.

Mattheo must have thought you were trying to get up from the action, his arm that was wrapped around you instinctively pulling you closer to his chest. His face burrowed into your neck, breath fanning against your skin as his breathing stayed even. You allowed him to embrace you a little longer, getting lost in your thoughts, thinking about what everything in the last 12 hours meant. Were you and Mattheo together now, like officially together? Would he tell the others? Were you even allowed to talk about it? You tried your best to fall back asleep, if only until Mattheo woke up, but your mind wasn’t slowing down.

Reluctantly peeling his arm from you slowly, you slipped from the bed, putting on your slippers and heading down to the kitchen. You knew Gimball would make your morning tea for you if you asked, he often makes it for you before you even wake up, but he must have known not to do that this morning. You also didn’t have a house elf at your old place, and you liked the routine of doing some things for yourself still.

As if he expected the change in routine, you walked into the kitchen to see Gimball working on breakfast, but your favorite mug and tea bag sitting on the counter while a kettle was on the stove. “How did you know I’d be down here, Gimball?” You questioned the small elf playfully. Without ceasing his movements he replied to your question, “Gimball knows many things Miss Birdie, especially that Master Mattheo does not like to be disturbed in the mornings.” You smiled at this, cheeks tinting the slight pink at the realization that Gimball knew Mattheo was in your room. Ripping open the teabag and placing it in your mug, you tied the string to the handle before walking over to the whistling kettle.

“You’ve known Mattheo a long time, hmm?” You asked it as if you hadn’t seen into Mattheo’s memories, wanting to see what the elf might say. With a snap of his fingers an array of plates and kitchenware appeared on the large center island, “Gimball has been with the Riddle family for three generations, he remembers Master Mattheo’s birth, taught him his schooling. Master Mattheo is a good man, good man Miss Birdie.” You hummed in acknowledgement, smiling as you poured the hot water into your mug, “Was he good in school?”

You were just fishing for any knowledge about him now, anything you knew he probably wouldn’t tell you, at least not right now. Gimball nodded as he set up all the breakfast food and teas for everyone, “Oh yes, Master Mattheo is very smart, very smart indeed. Very observant, but I’m sure Miss Birdie has already come to knowledge of that.” You huffed out a laugh, nodding your head, “Oh yeah, almost too observant for his own good if you ask me.” Gimball let himself smile at your statement, something you didn’t see him do often. With another snap of his fingers, the food arrangement disappeared from the center island. You knew it was now on the large dinning room table, awaiting everyone in the house as they individually made their way down.

Gimball looked at you again, “Master cares very deeply about Miss Birdie.” You nodded your head, “I know Gimball, he really looks at us like a family. It’s a nice feeling.” Gimball shook his head, waving his small finger in the air, “No, Miss Birdie misunderstands Gimball. His care for her is different than the others. Master Mattheo is not always good with his words. Sometimes he cannot express how he feels properly. Master was not allowed to say his feelings when he was little.”

You opened your mouth to ask him to explain further, to tell you what he meant by his last few statements but the opening of the kitchen door caught your attention. You turned at the intrusion, only to see Mattheo standing in the doorway, now completely clothed for the day in a pair of black slacks and a white button up rolled to the elbows, displaying the veins and tattoos that decorated his forearms. You were clearly gawking and if Mattheo noticed (which he probably did) he was polite this morning and chose not to acknowledge the fact.

“What’re you doing in here?” was his question instead. You turned back around, only to see Gimball had apparated away. Turning back to Mattheo you held your mug up to your lips, taking a small sip, “Tea.” He quirked an eyebrow, “You know Gimball would’ve made that for you.” You nodded, “I know, but I like to do it myself sometimes.” Mattheo held the door open for you to exit, following close behind you as you did so. “You left me this morning, woke up to an empty bed and pillows that smelled like you,” he whispered in your ear, giving your hip a light squeeze. You smirked at this, not being able to help your quip back, “Mmm, what a bummer of a feeling. Thankfully I was still in the house and you didn’t wake up like that only to find me gone for days on end.”

Mattheo’s eyebrows shot up, his tongue running along the inside of his cheek as he suppressed a smirk. “We’ve got an attitude this morning I see,” he spoke as he sat down next to you at the table. You shook your head, “I would never get an attitude with you, Mattheo.” He huffed out a small laugh then, pilling food onto his plate and choosing not to respond. Soon the others started to trail in, thankfully most of them still in their sleepwear making you not feel like the only one.

Once finished with breakfast Mattheo placed a small kiss on your temple, stating he needed to go to the club early to take care of a few things before the night started. He took Pansy and Draco with him, leaving you at the table with Blaise, Theo and Enzo. The three wore devious smirks, Enzo’s eyes down at his plate avoiding yours. Theo, however, had no shame, pointing his fork at you while he talked, “So, sorella, have a good night?” You glared at him, “Fine, thanks.” Theo gave you a knowing look, “Enjoy it with anyone else?”

This question caused Enzo to choke slightly on his sip of orange juice, the other two men not holding back their laughter. “Serves your right, Enzo,” you stated harshly. The lanky man held up his arms, “Hey, I never said anything!” You rolled your eyes, “But you were smirking like you thought you knew something and obviously agree with Teddy.” Blaise tapped his fork on his glass, grabbing everyone’s attention, “Alright alright, lets stop teasing the poor girl. If anything did happen, which were not saying it did,-”

“or didn’t!” Theo pointed out. Blaise nodded, “Or didn’t,” you rolled your eyes, “can we all just agree that tonight is going to be interesting as hell. Well for us,” he gestured between himself and Theo and Enzo, “maybe not for you, Birdie.” You furrowed your brows in confusion, not understanding the implications of his statement. “Why is tonight going to be interesting for everyone but me, Blaise? What’s happening?” Theo couldn’t stop himself from laughing, clutching his stomach and rearing back in his seat. Enzo gave you a sad smile, “Because there’s a new dancer coming tonight. The one you covered for quit and Pansy said the new one is coming for her first shift this evening.”

You shrugged your shoulders, stuffing another piece of fruit in your mouth, “Okay, so? I don’t care about that. I only danced that one time because Mattheo said I couldn’t. I like bartending with you Enzo. Why would a new dancer make me upset?” Theo leaned both elbows on the table, clasping his hands in front of him as his tilted his head to the side, “Because this girl is proper fit, like, thank you fucking Salazar fit.” You rolled your eyes, “Again…so? All the dancers are fit, Teddy. You’re just a horndog.” Blaise jumped in, “Mattheo used to have a reputation…with dancers.” You stiffened slightly, but waved your hand telling him to continue, “It’s stopped since you came around, for some reason,” he raised his eyebrows slightly, “Everyone’s just curious to see how it will go.”

You placed your fork on your place, dabbing your lips with the napkin from your lap before standing, “Mattheo’s a big boy. I don’t control him, he can do what he wants. Like I said, there’s nothing going on between us, I’m just like the rest of you guys to him.” Theo snorted at this, while Enzo groaned. Blaise just shrugged his shoulders, “Whatever you say, Birdie. Just know if you feel like fighting, I’m on your side.” You couldn’t help but laugh at everyone’s dramatic reactions, “Thank you, Blaise, but I’m sure that wont be necessary. Everything’s going to be fine.”

And it appeared so for the first few hours you were at the club. You and Enzo worked together restocking the bar while Blaise and Theo sat on the stools, going over plans for different ‘business trips’ and other ordeals. You didn’t push it, but did try to sneak a glance or two at what they were working on. You had grown apparently too close to Theo those few days because he immediately caught you. Giving you a playful scolding for even trying.

Nothing seemed a bother until you went to put up two new bottles of rum and nearly slammed into the side of Enzo. “What are you-” you went to question but Enzo’s large hand palmed the top of your head like a basketball and turned it until your line of vision was the same as his. Immediately you felt like your body was on fire with rage.

Across the club Pansy was standing with Mattheo and a brunette woman. She was wearing what you would barely consider clothing in a skirt so short it was practically knickers and a top that was so small you figured there had to be a spell put on it for her breasts not to be spilling out. But that wasn’t even the bother as most of the dancers dressed in similar attire. What was bothering you was the way Mattheo was interacting with her.

It wasn’t like he was coming on to her, but it wasn’t like he was being her boss either. Though it was very apparent that she was coming on to him. Touching his arm, twirling her hair between her fingers, biting her lip. And Mattheo wasn’t helping, leaning slightly in to her touch, giving her a devilish grin. “What a fucking slag,” the words slipped from your mouth before you could stop them and Blaise nearly choked on his drink.

“Mattheo or Trixie?” Theo asked, knowing that using the girls name would probably instill more rage in you. Your eyebrows shot up, a scoff leaving your lips. Enzo groaned, “Oh c’mon, Nott. Don’t rile her up more.” You opened your mouth to respond but it only dropped further in shock when you saw Mattheo tuck a stray hair behind Trixie’s ear. The three boys followed your gaze, all beginning to mumble amongst themselves about how everything was going to play out.

Jealousy is a sexy look on you, Princess, Mattheo’s voice rang between your ears as your eyes snapped to meet his. The fucker had the audacity to smirk at you before giving his attention back to the girl. You slammed a glass down on the counter, not breaking it but definitely causing a sound loud enough for all eyes to turn to you. “Oi, watch it, Birdie. Do you have any idea how much those glasses cost?” You hadn’t noticed Draco walk up to the bar before your actions, too focused on the growing grin Mattheo wore at your increased rage.

Then an idea popped into your head, a definitive way to get back at Mattheo being a right prick. You walked from behind the bar, coming now to stand in front of Draco who only eyed you suspiciously. “Hi Dray,” your voice sickly sweet, “Have any dinner plans?” Draco looked to the other three boys, obviously asking for an explanation of your question. Theo rolled his eyes but Blaise only chucked, “She’s plotting something to get back at Riddle. Seems like your her pawn, Malfoy.”

Draco raised his eyebrows as he looked down at you, “This true, Darling? You trying to use me to get back at cousin? What’d he do- ohh, I see now.” Draco glanced over top of you at Mattheo still talking with Trixie, his focus slightly less strict now that he noticed you grab hold of Draco’s bicep. Meeting your eyes again Draco shrugged, “You know what, fuck it. Matt’s been a dick to me lately, serves him right.”

You sealed happily, clasping your hands together, “Seriously? Oh, Merlin, thank you so much!” You wrapped your arms around Draco’s middle, smushing your face into his upper abdomen. “Easy, there. Don’t want him to kill me before we get to the main event,” Draco joked. You pulled back, smile still evident. Enzo just shook his head, “You sure bout this, Angel?”

Nodding, you walked back round the bar, “Oh I’m sure. Wanna go around 9, Dray? There’s no way he’d leave in the middle of busy hours. You can handle the bar yourself tonight, right Enzie?” You turned to your friend with pleading eyes. Enzo nodded, “Yeah, yeah, I’ll be fine. I’ll make Pansy help if needed.” You hugged Enzo now, who let out a low chuckle and patted your back.

“I’ll leave a dress for you in the dancers changing room, you’ll get dressed here and I’ll make sure he sees you before we leave,” Draco was looking down at his phone as he spoke. You nodded, “Okay, sounds good.” He sent you a wink before walking back towards the office. You looked at the clock, noting you had four hours to get through before you could implement your plan.

Those hours seemed to drag, Enzo constantly reminding you to not watch the clock and just work. When you saw it was 8:30 you gave Enzo’s arm a light squeeze to let him know you were going to get ready. In the changing rooms you saw a garment bag with your name etched on it. Always showing off money, huh, Draco, you thought in your head. Unzipping the bag your face was graced with a smirk. Inside hung a velvet ruched bodycon minidress in a deep emerald green. The chest a sweetheart neckline with a slightly deeper plunge.

Slipping it on you were delighted with the outcome. The dress contouring every curve of your body, hiding the insecure bits and accentuating your assets. Doing your hair in loose waves and applying some light makeup, you slipped on the black heels Draco had included and walked out of the changing room, nearly running into the one person you’d hoped would see you.

Grabbing hold of your waist, Mattheo eyed you questioningly, “Where do you think you’re going?” You rolled your eyes, which only irritated him further, “Don’t worry boss, I’m not dancing. I’m just going to dinner.” This didn’t make Mattheo stop worrying, if anything he worried further. “Dinner? With fucking who?”

“With me, cousin,” Draco walked into the hall, clad in a pair of sleek black trousers and a black button up, “My, my, you look ravishing, darling.” You peeled Mattheo’s hands from your hips, turning to the blonde boy now, “Thank you, Dray. You ready?” Draco nodded, holding out his arm for you to take. You looped your arm in his, glancing over to Mattheo once more to see his face in a deep scowl, jaw clenched. You smirked, flashing him a wink. Jealousy looks sexy on you, Matty, you thought to him just as Draco apparated to the restaurant.

As expected, dinner was wonderfully expensive and posh. Draco surprisingly keeping conversation with you quite well. You even complimented him on it, “I didn’t think I’d ever see this side of you Draco. It’s…nice.” Draco snorted slightly, “Figured I’d give an effort since you’re going to be my family one day.” You smiled, “Awh, aren’t we already family Dray? All playing house in that big manor?” Draco shook his head, smirking now, “I meant with what’s going on between you and cousin.”

You rolled your eyes, “Why does everyone keep saying shit like that? I’m sure he doesn’t treat me any differently than any of the other girls he’s shagged.” Draco’s grin grew two sizes, “So you guys have fucked? More than once or…?” You glared at him, “You’re insufferable.” The blonde just smiled more, “You know I’ve known him my whole life, seen him with a lot of girls, and I mean a lot of girls-” You cut him off quickly, “Thank you Draco, move on please.” He snickered lightly, “I’m just saying, I’ve never seen him act like he does with any other girl he’s been around except you. He’s kind of always seen women as a means to an end, like they’re just there for him when he wants them to be, then he can throw them away when he doesn’t.”

A frown painted your face, not wanting to see Mattheo in that kind of light, but knowing Draco was likely telling the truth. Draco continued, “He’s protective over you, not like he is with the rest of us. It’s like…possessive. Obsessed. He used to be really off the wall wild with every trip we made with the business, but now he’s doing more strategic planning, like he doesn’t want anyone to get in to much danger, like he has something to look forward to when he gets back.”

Your chest warmed with this new information, “You’re really close with him.” Draco nodded, “We were best mates growing up. Mum’s are sisters, but his was always off with his dad, you know him,” you nodded with a grimace, “so he would stay with my family a lot. Even had his own room at mine. I know we call each other cousin but he was practically a brother to me growing up, until I went away to school. His dad didn’t let him go to Hogwarts, wanting to train him like some sort of secret weapon for the war.” You nodded your head, remembering the memories you intruded on with Mattheo.

“He used to beg me to teach him everything I learned during summer Holiday. He caught on so fast too. Used to keep my old textbooks and practice with Gimball while I was away. When the war came he was really conflicted. Hell, we all were. I’m surprised you even came to the club after everything that happened. Didn’t you know…about us?” His question caught you a little off guard. Sure, you had known of Draco in school, he made it practically hard for someone not to know him. And you knew slightly of the others, just that they were similar to Draco, purebloods with family members that were devoted Dark Lord followers, but it had been a few years, everyone kind of grew up, looked a little different. Everyone but Draco, sticking still to his signature looks.

You shrugged, “I knew of the club, knew it was wizard ran, but I didn’t know by who. I definitely didn’t know you guys worked there. Had no real clue about Mattheo at all until Pansy told me. Voldemort definitely kept that secret well.” Draco nodded. You looked up from your plate now, meeting his eyes, “If Mattheo really saw me in the way you imply he does, why was he flirting with a dancer earlier today.” Draco’s lip twitched like he was holding back a smile, “Sometimes old habits die hard. Sometimes we get scared of the feelings we have because they happen so deeply, like nothing we’ve ever had before. And sometimes, when we’re especially stubborn, we just need someone to put us in our place. Take charge, so to speak, to prove to us that they reciprocate what we’re feeling, even to the deepest of depths.”

You quirked an eyebrow at his words, questioning if you were really understanding what he was saying. Draco sighed slightly, “I know Mattheo. I’ve seen him in many stages of life, many emotions, good and bad. He’s never allowed himself to feel as deeply about a person as he does for you because he knows once he starts falling, he’s never going to stop. If you feel the same, you have to show him. If you want what he wants, prove it to him. But you have to play his game. Don’t be a pawn, be a gamekeeper. Show him who’s boss, I’m sure he’s tired of the title.”

Draco paid the bill before taking you both back to the manor. Like a gentleman he walked you to the steps leading up to the rooms. “Thank you for tonight, Draco. It was lovely.” Draco smiled down at you, placing a friendly hand on your shoulder. He leaned in close, giving you a peck on your cheek and whispering in your ear, “Anytime darling.” He gave you a curt wink before walking toward his office on the main floor. You turned round, heading up the steps and walking into your room.

He had probably hoped to startle you, but you had almost expected him to be there waiting for you. “Have fun tonight, Princess? Fuck my cousin? Was he good?” You huffed a laugh, taking off your jewelry and setting it atop your dresser before turning to face him. “Don’t be brash, Mattheo,” you looked him over, sitting in the chair in the corner of the room. His hair was disshelved like he’d been running his hands through it. Which he had been while waiting for you and Draco to come home. The thoughts in his mind spinning wildly about what could have happened.

You walked towards him across the room, him standing to meet you when you pushed him back down, crawling into his lap. “Draco and I just had dinner,” your fingers started to delicately undo the buttons of his shirt, all the way down before pushing it off his shoulders, “just like I said before we left.” He grunted, unconvinced, his hands going to your waist but you pushed them off, “I didn’t say you could touch me.” He tilted his head slightly, looking at you with a sly grin. You reached between your bodies, unbuttoning his trousers and sliding down the zipper.

You stood up then, Mattheo going to follow once more but you tsked at him, “Sit and take off your pants, briefs too,” you leaned down and whispered in his ear, “I want to see all of you, Matty. Can you do that? Can you be my good boy.” Mattheo felt his cock twitch at your words, at your directions. He wasn’t sure what was happening but he knew he wanted to find out. You walked back towards the bed, just a few feet away, slipping your dress off your shoulders to reveal your bare breasts and black thong to the man across from you.

Mattheo couldn’t help but groan at the site, his cock standing at attention as you slid your panties down your legs before you climbed onto the foot of the bed and turning to face him, legs spread open wide so he got a full view of your glistening cunt. Mattheo groaned at the sight. “You can touch yourself, Matty. Go on,” you encouraged and he followed directions, instantly grabbing hold of his thick cock and pumping himself, “Show me what you wish you were doing to me,” you let your hands cup your breasts, squeezing them lightly causing Mattheo to groan at the view, his eyes rolling, “because tonight you don’t get to touch me at all.”

His eyes shot open then, hand stilling on his length. You pouted at him, mocking his frown, “Don’t stop now, baby. I was enjoying the view.” You lightly slid your hand up the insides of your thighs, giving yourself goosebumps. Mattheo watched with hungry eyes as you took two fingers and glided them through your folds, coating your fingers in your slick before rubbing your clit lightly. “Keep touching yourself, baby, let me see you,” you started applying more pressure on your bundle of nerves, slight whimpers leaving your mouth as Mattheo started slowly guiding his hand up and down his length once more.

When you slid two fingers inside of yourself, eliciting a gasp from your lips you didn’t miss Mattheo’s low, “Fucking hell”, glancing a look at his desperate eyes. Pumping your fingers you couldn’t help but tease him more, “You’re being such a good boy for me, Matty. Oh, fuck, my fingers stretch me so good, but not as good as when I’m stretched around you, Oh, god, Mattheo.” Hearing his name fall from your lips while he watched you pleasure yourself was his idea of torture. Your hips bucked against your hand, your clit hitting your palm with every grind and building the familiar heat in the pit of your stomach, “Fuck, Matty, I wish I was about to come on your cock, but you just had to misbehave this afternoon, didn’t you?”

His nostrils flared at your words, speech stuttering as his thumb swiped over his slit, eyes glued to your fingers pumping in and out of your cunt, “I-I’m sorry, Princess. I didn’t-”

“Shut up,” you moaned out, looking up to see himself pumping his cock faster. You could tell he was close by the amount of precum leaking from his tip. “Stop touching yourself,” you commanded. Mattheo groaned, but listened to instructions. When you saw he had stopped your bucked your hips faster, chasing your high until you were tumbling over the edge into your orgasm, “Fuck, oh fuck, yes.” Mattheo’s dick twitched at the sight of you coming undone, your thighs quaking, clamping shut on your hand as you rode out your high, still pumping your fingers in and out of yourself before you slowed down, catching your breath and making eye contact with him.

You slid your fingers from your cunt, your juices glistening to where Mattheo could see it across the room. “Come taste, baby,” you held your fingers out for him. Mattheo clambered over quickly, immediately latching his lips to your fingers, tongue swirling around your digits to get every last drop. His lips left your fingers with a pop, hands going to grab your thighs to spread them back open for himself. You slapped his hands away, scooting yourself backwards until you reached the head of the bed, leaning against the pillows.

You spread your legs wide, patting the space between them. “C’mere, Matty. Come sit right here, back to me.” Mattheo crawled over to you, lips quickly attaching to yours in a feverish kiss. His palm against your cheek and fingers splayed on the back of your neck holding you steady as his tongue explored your mouth, groaning at the taste of you still on his tongue. With all the mental strength you could muster you push him away, slapping his face lightly.

Immediately Mattheo started apologizing, “I’m so sorry, Princess, I couldn’t, fuck, I just couldn’t help myself.” You shook your head at his ramblings, making a spinning motion with your finger indicating to him to turn around and get in the position you instructed him to be in before. Mattheo turned around, lying against your chest. You delicately ran your nails along his thighs, his cock twitching at the action. “I was going to let you cum, maybe even help you, but you broke a rule.”

You grabbed Mattheo’s hand, guiding it back toward his aching cock. As he stroked himself again you ran your nails lightly up his sides, his muscles twitching in your wake. You continued to talk to him, tease him and get him further to the edge, “Last night you were so good to me, making me feel so full.” Mattheo let out a low groan as you trailed kisses along the side of his neck, his strokes becoming quicker, “Love it when you grip my thighs, spreading them open as you sink your big cock into my tight little cunt.”

Mattheo let out a shuddered breath as his thumb swiped over his tip. You grab his wrist then, stopping his movements. He let slip a pathetic whimper, begging you for release, “Fuck, please, Princess, I need to cum so bad.” His chest was heaving, head resting back against your shoulder. You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp, “Do you deserve that, Matty? Do you deserve to cum after blatantly flirting with that fucking slag right in front of me, hmm?” Mattheo groaned, “Fucks sake, I said I was sorry, you went out with c-cousin I should be p-punishing you.”

He stuttered over his words as you raked your nails up his thighs again, massaging just near where he wanted your touch but not giving in. “We just had dinner, just talked. If you thought it was anything more you would’ve hurt him by now.” You released his wrist, allowing him to pleasure himself once more. “Go on, baby,” you wrapped one arm around his shoulders, the other grabbing hold of his hair, pulling his head back with force. “Tell me who you’re thinking about when you touch yourself, is it her or is it me?”

Mattheo let out a guttural moan, “Fuck, Princess, it’s you. O-only you.” You started kissing up his neck again, biting the taught skin before licking to soothe it, making sure to leave a few marks. “Every time I think of you, fuck, and now I have the image of your tight little cunt stretching around my cock so perfectly. I never want anything else, oh gods.” You could tell he was close now, hips bucking into his hand. You brought your lips close to his ear, breath ghosting over his skin, “Cum for me, baby. Be a good boy.”

At your command a deep grunt left his throat, hot ropes of white shooting from his tip and on to the duvet in front of him. Coming down from his high he relaxed into you further, chest heaving as his breathing slowly evened out. You ran your fingers through his hair, kissing his temple. “Fucking Salazar’s sake, Princess, you trying to kill me now, hmm?” You smiled into his skin, “You did this to yourself, sir.”

He smiled lightly, “I said I’m sorry, Princess. Merlin, if I'd known this is what would happen from some simple flirting I would’ve never started.” He turned round, resting his head on your chest now. You hummed lightly, “I think you more than liked what just happened.” Mattheo pinched the side of your bum lightly, causing you to squeal. He turned his head, resting his chin atop your chest before leaning up slightly and catching your lips in a chaste kiss one, two, three times before laying his head back down.

You stayed like that for a moment before he broke the silence, “The boys say I’m growing attached to you.” You smiled slightly, hands running through his messy curls, “Do you agree with them?” He nodded, “Scares me how much I care about you, Birdie.” You frowned slightly, though he couldn’t see it, “Why does it scare you?” His eyes fluttered shut, you playing with his hair soothing him. He slid his hands beneath the underside of your shoulders, holding you as close as possible, “Means I’ve got something to lose.”

[vervainandspritz]

WHEN I TOUCH HER

Thomas Shelby x Reader

Summary: Tommy sees Y/N some time after breaking it off, she doesn't seem to notice him.. or does she?

A/N: Interact with the stories you read! It's important. Who wants something more tonight?:)

~~

People surely noticed, looking over curiously as several blinders entered the pub. Not making a ruckus of sort, slipping between other people in the fairly big crowd.

Some joined others by the table, greeting with wide grins those they know so well. Others, like John and Arthur came up to the bar, so much bigger than one in the Garrison. Three barmaids worked behind the counter, skillfully pouring all kinds of alcohol for the men in need. Known well among the people of Birmingham, they didn't have to call over to the working women to get what they came for. One of the barmaids handed over a full bottle of the finest Irish whiskey, receiving a good tip as the younger man left it on the counter, pushing it towards her with a wink.

Y/N, one of the barmaids didn't notice any of the Shelby brothers just yet, focused on the orders and techniques she taught herself so well. Tips were pouring like never before that night, as the rich guests consistently ordered more and more. A woman with such abilities was surely never seen before in any local club around here.

Night seemed to be coming to a head as the crowd slightly dispersed, giving her a much more clear view on the whole, rather massive, room. To say she saw him right away would be a lie, but Y/N could feel an intense gaze on her hands and face as she worked, cleaning up the glasses and wiping the counter down before finally looking up.

The man she avoided for over a month, more or less successfully stood there, hands stuffed in his pockets as he watched her from across the room. Despite the fact that this place was bursting at the seams, his gaze didn't falter as he watched her expression change, one much more bitter than the whiskey he held in his right hand.

”Fuck” Y/N sighed under her nose, internally rolling her eyes as she saw in her peripheral vision him slowly approaching.

Not giving him a chance to speak to her, Y/N turned around, wiping all the shelves behind her, keeping herself busy with anything, just so he wouldn't speak up. Involuntarily, the corner of her mouth raised slightly hearing his sigh of annoyance behind her back.

”Y/N” Thomas said, sitting on one of the stools. He wasn't surprised with the way she was acting, not really, knowing the situation he put them in some time ago. ”Y/N” He repeated, a little louder before dropping the glass onto the counter, causing her to huff before finally facing him.

Taking in the sight of him, already sitting by the counter, Y/N realized he wasn't planning on leaving anytime soon.

”What the hell did I do to see you here today, Shelby?” Came out of her mouth as a greeting, her tongue effortlessly sharp as always before she cocked her eyebrow. ”Don't you have whiskey in your own pub?”

Tommy looked at her for a moment, nodding lightly with an amused smile, causing her anger to simmer even harder.

”Came to see what all the noise's about, yeah?” He offered, pushing his empty glass forward, as in a silent order for a fill up. Without missing a beat she turned it upside down, slamming against the wood in front of him.

”Unfortunately we're closing soon. Find your way out, would you?” She said, smiling so nicely in such a fake manner, Tommy internally winced.

Letting out a sigh, he got up from his chair, leaning forward on his arms.

”Don't be like that,” He insisted, looking her in the eyes.

Tommy knew how this... The whole situation looked. Without knowing the details, it was messy and he was an asshole. Like always. When usually it didn't bother him much, Tommy couldn't shake this off. So aware of what was going on in her head about him.

”Like what?” She hissed, unable to hold back the anger she held in her fear for so many days now. ”You made your choice, now don't you dare come around in a state of boredom telling me what to do!” She stated sharply, a little louder than intended which brought the attention of one of her coworkers, Diana.

She came closer, tossing the rag aside as she eyed both Thomas and Y/N, before reaching out to touch her shoulder.

”Everything alright, hun? Is this man bothering you?” She offered, narrowing her eyes without dropping his gaze.

Hearing it, Tommy smirked lightly, highly amused with how... Fitting this environment was to Y/N's combative personality.

Are all of them that feisty?

Y/N sighed, shaking her head as she ran a hand through her hair.

”No, Diana, it's fine he's just... A bloody idiot, he is.” She said, glaring at him before adding. ”But he's no threat. I'm fine. Get behind the bar, would you?”

After hearing an affirmative answer, Y/N grabbed a pack of cigarettes from under the counter, walking around it and heading through the door. Tommy stood there for a moment, with his eyebrows raised in surprise. Only when Diana narrowed his eyes at him, contempt clear as day in her eyes, he rolled his own before following after Y/N.

She didn't go far, as a cloud of smoke awaited him right by the entrance, in the slightly darker side of the building. Moving closer Tommy lit his own cigarette, the air around them much different as the scenery changed. The reality heaving on his heart as he saw her hardened face.

”Y/N just let me say something, aye? If after that you decide you can't be arsed to talk to me, I'll leave.” He offered, the previous confidence and cockiness in his voice now gone. A long silence followed the echo of his low, husky tone while Tommy awaited her answer, standing nearby, yet not close enough.

Her hand was super still, eyes blank as she stared ahead for a moment.

”I simply don't understand why you're bothering me now, Shelby. It's been a couple weeks and you're suddenly back like a bloody boomerang.” Y/N made sure her voice was steady and confident as she spoke, knowing that she would be able to read her eyes, so the poor lighting was an advantage she was happily using.

He walked back and fourth a couple steps, smoking the cigarette before throwing it on the ground, stepping on it with the heel of his black, leather shoe.

”Campbell sent her to the Garrison. She came and sang, lied to us lot sayin' she's from Ireland.” Thomas finally spoke up, taking a step forward and keeping just the minimal, necessary distance he knew she needed. His eyes locked on her as best as he could in the dark, feeling her gaze as she hears his words. ”But Polly knew, saw her by the cut with 'im. Wore a hat, thought it would be enough to fool us.” a dry chuckle left his lips. ”After a couple meetings she started spilling, believed I felt the same. Kept talkin' and I needed to have the full view before the races.” The explanation slowly started.. having sense. But not enough to calm her nerves fully.

”No need to explain it all, no it's in the past.” She said, focusing on the black material of his tie, not looking at his face. ”You've had a long time to tell me, hell, to warm me you'd go 'round with a blonde on your arm, but you didn't. Now it's– not important.” Y/N said, involuntarily stuttering by the end of her sentence.

It was all... Hard. Hard on a different level. Before it all came to a head, it was all uncertain as well. He'd come, take her places or fuck her over the counter. He'd tell her things, but never enough to make it special. Keep his arm around her shoulders in the pub but never call her his. Y/N wasn't sure what was happening between them back then, but she liked it. Felt good around the man with blood on his hands and dimples in his cheeks. The casual flings turning into something she held dear to her heart, without trying to make it hard on him with confessions.

...but then she came around, taking all his attention. Leaving Y/N feeling like nothing important, like an underwhelming fuck he'd want to forget about.

Not calling, not talking, not coming to see her.

So she moved past it, and now he was back, suddenly scooting closer and getting ahold of her hands as she finished her cigarette, ripping her out of the dark thoughts.

”He was watching you. Knew about us, I couldn't risk them taking you to jail. Not after Arthur came back barely walking.” His voice was stern, more desperate now as he saw what seemed to be indifference in her eyes. ”Look at me, Y/N” He asked, quieter, and this worked.

It always did when he talked to her gently, using the soft tone he hasn't used with anyone else. So she looked, seeing the sadness in his eyes.

”I'm looking, Thomas. It's a lot.” She admitted, her teeth nipping on her lower lip nervously.

”I know.” He responded, leaning down for a better look on her eyes. ”Today were the races. I was supposed to take her with me so she'd sing all the missing bits into my ear.” Tommy added, his voice growing husky, breathing more ragged.

”Why the hell would you tell me that now?” She asked, frustrated with his weird tactics, jealousy gnawing on her throat. Thomas smiled lightly, not noticeably seeing it.

”Because I didn't take her. Made sure she's gone for good.” Y/N's eyes widened in surprise, her eyes meeting his as she searched for the truth. He was honest. Another step closed the distance between them, his firm chest pressing lightly against her own before he leaned forward, caging her between the wall. Calloused fingers gripped her chin, tilting her head up so she wouldn't look away.

Oh, how he missed the way she looked at him. These deep, expressive eyes he grew to yearn after whenever she wasn't around.

”Because when I touched her...” Tommy whispered, moving even closer. His warm breath touching her lips and chin. ”It felt like I was cheating on you.” His forehead came to rest against hers, feeling how she slightly relaxed against his body. ”I couldn't risk putting you in danger just because I so desperately need you around, Miss Y/L/N. You must forgive an old fool, eh?” His low voice slightly muffled, as his lips moved against hers in the incredibly close proximity they found themselves in.

Y/N chuckled, hearing him. The tears in her eyes remain hidden from his watchful gaze only because of the awful lighting by the pub.

”You're awful, Shelby.” She finally breathed out, leaving a small kiss, almost a peck on his lips before pushing her arms beneath his coat, wrapping them around his torso. ”Hug me, Tommy” Y/N asked quietly, touching the terrain they never explored before. The simple intimacy with no sexual undertones.

Surprisingly, Tommy couldn't imagine a better ending to this encounter as his arms wrapped around her shoulders, pulling her face into his neck.

Resting his chin on her head, Thomas knew he was the real winner, regardless of the race results.

[eternal-evergreens]

Hello! I stumbled across your post “jjk men as yandere” and I really enjoy both your thoughts and writing style.

I would truly appreciate if you wrote any scenario involving yandere Geto with reader (sorcerer).

Thank you if you even consider writing it<3

A/N Thanks so much!!

｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧"Meet Cute" ｡⁠*ﾟ⁠+*⁠.⁠✧

Post format: Drabble

Pairing: Yandere!Suguru Geto x GN!Curse user!Reader

Word count: 1.3k

Warnings: Reader is morally bankrupt, mentions of eugenics/genocide, reader is a little too into WWII, minor age gap, super greedy reader

"You're like a modern-day Hitler, huh?"

"...What?" Geto looked at you with wide eyes, putting down his to-go cup to better gape at you.

"Well, you are advocating for mass genocide and literal eugenics," you say, taking an unbothered sip of your own coffee. (Geto recommended the place. Apparently, his kids like the hot chocolate there. You'll have to ask him for the name of the place later.) "So, yeah, you're like Hitler."

Geto appears to be having a crisis of some sort. Just sort of staring down at his lap with an unreadable look on his face. You watch with amusement. This kid must be a newbie, you think—not that you're much older than him, but you at least have seniority on this.

"What, are you getting cold feet? You've already killed people, you know. If you want to make it in this career, you're gonna have to get real comfortable being compared to some pretty terrible things."

"I'm used to being called terrible things, it's just—"

"Oh, what? Like monster?" Geto says nothing, and you sigh, reclining back in your chair. (Damn, this cult has some nice shit. You wonder if you can sneak the couch out without anyone noticing?) "So unoriginal. Anyway keep your chin up. It's actually a good thing. Hitler already exists, so you can steal his ideas."

"Weren't you just complaining about something being unoriginal?" You wave your hand dismissively.

"That was then, this is now. Anyway what do you think? Hitler industrialized murder. You can do the same—if you can get the right ingredients."

"You're talking about power, right?"

"Pretty much. You'll need hands and money. And a lot of both. With that in mind, this cult is actually a perfect setup. But putting that aside," you take another sip of your drink. Empty. Damn it. "You didn't call me here just so I could give you my professional opinion, did you?"

Geto smiles. "I hear you'll do anything for money."

"I don't come cheap, you know."

"That's not a problem," he snaps his fingers, and someone, a "monkey" from the looks of it, walks in, clearly struggling with the weight of whatever's in that giant briefcase. You suppress a smile as it's placed on the table and opened. Hundreds, no, thousands of ¥10,000 notes line the briefcase from top to bottom. You nearly salivate from just looking at it. Quickly, you check for any signs of deceit, of counterfeits, empty space, or otherwise. You can't find anything.

"You'll find this briefcase contains over one billion yen." Geto says, gesturing for his...indentured servant to close the case. How many bills is that? It's gotta be over a million. You're half tempted to take the money and run, but years of experience have taught you not to underestimate guys carrying this much cash. "I trust this is sufficient?"

"That depends on the job," you say, crossing your arms. "If you want me to take out Satoru Gojo, you'll need to multiply it a hundredfold before I even consider it."

"It's nothing that severe," he says, wearing the smile of a polished businessman. You sit up a little straighter. Maybe you were wrong about this guy being an amateur. Whatever he wants you to do, it's bad news. You feel excitement tingling in your veins. Will he ask you to take out a city? A country? Considering the scale of his plans, you wouldn't be surprised if he wanted you to take out a continent... you'd need a bit more to do something like that, though.

"I want you to marry me."

You snort, then laugh. You laugh for a very long time, even holding your stomach as you bend over in your seat. If this was a ploy to make you let your guard down long enough to kill you, it was smart. Still, you wouldn't go down that easily. You're more than confident enough in your ability to defend yourself, even in such a hilarious encounter.

Finally, the laughter dies down, and you wipe a tear from your eye. You look up at Geto's face, only for him to look back at you oddly serious. "No way..." you murmur, "are you for real?"

"I'm afraid I am," he says. Your smile drops. How annoying. What's this guy even want from you, huh?

"So, what, that money's a dowry?"

"More like a bribe."

"Uh-uh. No way. Not happening. I can't take a job like that."

"You're not even going to ask what's in it for me?"

"Not interested," you say, grabbing your bag and standing.

"I think I ought to tell you anyway," he says, throwing a sack onto the table. A stack of yen falls out, and you eye it with a raised eyebrow. "That's my payment for listening," he says. "¥200,000."

You inspect the fallen stack. Once again, it's real. He's either crazy or plotting something, and you have a hunch it's the latter. You sit back down. Whatever he's thinking, it's definitely bad news. Even so, you need more information to properly deal with it.

"I've heard you're the sole caretaker of four siblings." He shouldn't know that, but you decide not to derail the conversation by asking. "As you know, I've got two little girls of my own."

"So, what? You need a babysitter?"

"Precisely."

"Okay, but why marriage? Surely you could just hire me as a nanny and be done with it?"

"The girls don't trust strangers easily. I already told them that I had a Fiance out of town who'd be coming back soon. Just play along with it and you'll be compensated accordingly." "For how long?"

"Just until they turn eighteen."

"You'll have to pay me more." "What I showed you earlier was just a down payment; you'll also get an annual salary of fifteen million."

"Make it twenty."

"How's forty?" he says. You ponder over it for a moment. Judging from how you saw things earlier, it seems like he does genuinely love those kids. He's young and not afraid of spending, which would make you worry about the sustainability of the job, but cults are famous for making tons of cash.

"How old are they?"

"Six." So, twelve years. Counting the initial (over) one billion, the listening fee of two hundred thousand, and the annual salary times twelve, you'll be paid over ¥1,480,200,000. That's more than enough to send your siblings to college, as well as set them up for life.

"Deal," you say, reaching your hand out to shake. You'd ask why he doesn't just hire someone more qualified, but you think that speech on 'monkeys' he gave you answers the question.

"It's getting late," he says, shaking your hand. "How about I take you to dinner?"

"Why?"

"My girls are smart. They'll realize something's up if we don't know anything about each other," he says, standing.

"This isn't coming out of my salary, right?" Geto, or, you suppose you should be calling him Suguru, now, chuckles.

"I'm not nearly that stingy," he says. He holds out his arm to escort you, and you take it. "I'll need your ring size, too."

Of course, he already knows it. That, and so much more. After all, this may be your first time meeting him, but he's already met you plenty of times.

"Sure, but I'm not paying. Also, if you get me an ugly one I'm selling it."

"We'll go together, then." For some reason, the smile on his face seems a little too genuine to be meant for someone he's only just met, but you pay it no mind. Money is money, after all.

"Oh, what about living arrangements?"

"You and your siblings will live here," he says. "You'll have to sleep in the same bed as me, I'm afraid. Just to keep up the illusion."

"Do I get a bonus for that?"

"You're hurting my feelings," he says.

[callooopie]

School’s in session || HOTD men

“Then I see you, you’re walking ‘cross the campus. Cruel professor, studying romances.” — Campus // Vampire Weekend

packing’s tuff asffff. I’m glad for a break in the middle of it all. This is very short. And I hope it satisfies the pookies enough in the calloopie drought. But once again, I return to the trenches of packing for college 🫡🫡🙂‍↕️✌️

Davos Blackwood // Computer science

As we’ve established once, Davos rooms with Aeron. No one knows why, or understands even. They both hate each other (so they say).

Once you see him walk into his computer lab, just know that you’re not seeing him ever again until the late hour of the night. He goes in with two—three energy drinks, comes out with four empty cans… not sure how that happened. Davos isn’t sure where the extra can came from. Magic. Pure college magic.

He’s a very smart and capable student. He’s just.. lazy. The type to put assignments and projects off until the day of the deadline. And then he’ll lock in for the whole day and not text you or anyone until midnight when he turns it in just barely on time. He says he lives for the thrill, the adrenaline of bordering the due date.

Rides a skateboard to class, around the campus, everywhere. If he sees you he does a trick in front of you before riding off. Only for you though. Sometimes he fails, and it’s bad for him but funny for you (and everyone else who sees it happen). It’s like once I saw someone fall into the fountain on campus. Yeah—that’s what happened to Davos. A trail of water leading toward the science building, and a very unhappy Davos sitting through a lecture with his pants soaked.

Enjoys sleeping on the grass if it’s nice enough. A backpack for a pillow (or your thighs). You could be sleeping beside him, letting his head rest in your lap, or simply just doing homework or coursework as you both enjoy the afternoon. Whatever you have going on, Davos is just happy to be beside you.

The type to cut it really close to class time if he’s getting food. Nothing gets in the way of his food, not even the start of a class or lab. He’ll be in line and you’ll spot him out and be confused, looking down at your phone as you talk about how you thought he had a lab. And Davos would happily respond and say, yes, he does indeed have that lab. But fries are calling his name. And who is he to deny such salty callings?

Jacaerys Velaryon // Political Science

Attentive, in every one of his classes. Sometimes his posture is upright, other times he’s leaning back. But he never dozed off or loses interest. The only sign of his boredom would be seeing him twiddle around a pencil or pen between his fingers, both ends tapping lightly against the desk or notebook in front of him.

Bounces his leg too. Not out of anxiety or anything, but once again just an outlet for his boredom or restlessness. It gets worse when the clock shows it’s nearing the end of class.

Sometimes he’ll get so engrossed in whatever’s being taught, you’ll have to poke him once or twice to get his attention. He’ll snap his head toward you before returning his attention to the front of the class, but he’s listening to you now at least. A hand resting against his chin as you talk into his ear or show him something on your laptop or phone.

Coffee girl. You never see him without a coffee. Iced, hot. Starbucks, homemade. Whatever it is, it’s on his desk. Definitely not a Stanley cup guy. Jace likes something small, simple. Nothing that stands out or is overly complicated and fancy. It’s probably a portable mug he stole from his mother, or has just had for a very long time.

Always put together. Even a lazy fit on him looks chic. You ask him one day, how does he do it? Even wearing just sweats and a t-shirt; he somehow always looks so.. good. Jace chuckles under his breath, shaking his head as he adjusts his cap. Oh it’s a bit of this and that, confidence and coolness. How you hold yourself. But also really.. it’s all in the accessories; he tells you.

Cregan Stark // Environmental Science

A literal ghost on campus. You never see him—you don’t know how he does it. You could go the entire day without seeing Cregan and then randomly think about him and not a moment later he’s right in front of you. And yes, he likes seeing how you light up in surprise. How you say his name every time he suddenly appears beside you. Never gets old.

Big salad and study guy. Or just snacking and studying in general. In the library, in a study room, somewhere on campus, no matter what; Cregan’s got something in front of him as he reads over an article.

Reads the news while he walks to class. Usually he doesn’t like staring at his phone so aimlessly. But for the latest news updates, he will do it. He lets out little hums or groans depending on what’s happening in the world. Only once have you seen him shake his head at something. A scoff and an eye roll were rare as well.

Does not adhere to sidewalk paths. If there’s a quicker route to the building where his class is being held—he will take it. Even if it’s through the woods; he will take it. Efficiency is the name of the game here, and he’d rather be early than late.

He does not pay attention when he walks also. So if you’re trying to get his attention, you will have to grab his arm and put yourself in his field of vision. He’s a fast walker too. He’s got places to be after all, he can’t just slow down to make conversation when he’s got a busy schedule and things to do. But he will.. slow down a bit. And make time for you, in his busy life.

[moonlit-imagines]

Headcanons for being Miles Morales’ sibling (Earth-42)

Earth-42!Miles Morales x sibling!reader

warnings:

a/n:

prompt: anonymous: “Miles42 as y/n’s older brother???”

miles and you were pretty close growing up

you two did everything together

art was your passion and you guys used to love pretending tp be critics

“this needs more color” -you, age 6

“you have no idea what you’re talking about!” -miles, also age 6ish

you’d trade pictures and “help” each other, which really helped you guys find your styles

and all was well and good for a long time. you guys had love from your parents and your uncle and they guided you well through life

uncle aaron helped you guys grow your creativity

your mom taught you compassion and empathy

your dad taught you responsibility and bravery

and after some time, miles and aaron started getting closer, more secretive

“are you hiding something from me?” -you

“no.” -miles

“yes you are”

“no im not”

“so then why am i not invited to aarons anymore? we aren’t making music or murals or whatever else, that’s weird. it’s abrupt”

“yeah, aaron’s busy”

“so then where are you going without me?”

“i can go out without you, y/n”

“you just aren’t yourself anymore”

and soon after that, your dad was killed in action and you weren’t acting yourself either

“hey, maybe its time we bring your sibling into this” -aaron

“trust me, they aren’t ready” -miles

for some time, miles had begun acting as the prowler, using his anger and grief of jefferson’s death to fuel his antics

“miles, y/n needs you. we pulled away, we have to help them” -aaron

“they should stay with mom, we have work to do” -miles

you guys began to shut each other out, you supported your mom since she lost her husband, and you two lived in blissful ignorance of what miles and aaron were working on

“hey kid, brought you some supplies” -aaron

“oh—well, uh, thanks unc” -you

“anytime” -aaron

“i’m glad miles is spending time with aaron, mijo/a. its good for him. for both of them” -rio

“just be nice if they ever spent time with me” -you

“give it time, love. everything will be alright” -rio

you grew more frustrated that miles shut you out and decided to take a look for yourself what they were doing without you

“what the hell?!” -you, walking into aarons apartment and seeing the prowler setup

“get out! no one told you to come here!” -miles

“miles, chill out. that’s your sibling. we wanted to tell you about this. we just wanted to wait until you were ready” -aaron

“ready? you two are sneaking around behind my back, doing god knows what? does mami know?!” -you

“don’t you dare tell her!” -miles

“miles, this is your chance to fix your problems with y/n. lower your voice, talk to them” -aaron

miles and you talked for hours over this, and you were heartbroken that he didn’t tell you sooner and thought he couldn’t

but you suspected he may not have wanted to because he wanted to try this alone

you really did want to be included though, it looked like an incredibly exciting gig

and who knows what kind of trouble you guys could get into together?

it was hard to keep it a secret from rio, but everyone was working out their grief in their own ways

and miles was still in one piece so far, so no harm done?

and one day you got a call from aaron to come to his place. immediately

so imagine your surprise when you saw miles strung up to the punching bag

“what are you doing?! let him down! why did you take out his braids?!” -you

“we didn’t” -miles

you looked SO confused

“who the hell is this?” -you

“that’s what we’re trying to figure out” -aaron

“hey..im miles…” -miles, from another universe

taglist: @summersimmerus // @milkiane // @wild-rose-35 // @nekoannie-chan // @deanzboyfriend // @mr-mxyzptlk-1940 //

[bsdawgz]

「 ✦ Behave ✦ 」 Bungo Stray Dogs, Armed Detective Agency: Atsushi Nakajima

a/n: (soft) dom!atsushi won the poll <3 thank u everyone for ur support on my fics! every like and esp follows + reblogs count sm and i rly luv when u interact wit me, send me msgs and stuff like that, it means sm to me that u enjoy my work :3 and idk if u will come back to read this anon but if u do, i hope u enjoy it <3

genre: da nasty

content warning: f!reader. MDNI! (soft) dom!atsushi. reader is a bit of a brat. bondage (handcuffs). fingering. orgasm denial. praise (lots of it). atsushi calls you "good girl." ;)

summary: it's about time atsushi taught you to follow the rules.

no one would ever expect it.

– of course not.

the ada's sweet, blushing jinko was rushing through his paperwork all day today, so eager to get to your apartment tonight. what could he say? he just wanted to see you so badly.

he wanted to see that cute, embarrassed face of yours.

he wanted to cuff your hands behind your back and fuck you –

kunikida, for example, would never expect it.

his coworker stopped him right in his tracks while he was halfway out the door, hitting him with that unanswerable question: "where could YOU possibly be off to in such a hurry?" just as soon as he was about to leave. all atsushi could do was clutch his phone to his chest anxiously and hope kunikida didn't have the slightest suspicion about the sort of things atsushi might enjoy doing on his days off.

someone like kunikida would never understand it – no one at the ada would, really.

atsushi isn't nearly as clever as dazai or ranpo, nor is he indispensable like yosano, or strong like kenji. the bedroom is the only place he doesn't have to be anyone but himself. he doesn't need to prove his usefulness to you – between the sheets, there is no power struggle. you submit to him completely. you want him to take control.

and he'll take it – he'll take it over and over again.

by the time he reaches your apartment, it's already night. your place is is small but cozy, tucked away in a neighborhood a train ride away from yokohama, somewhere where there's not as much violent crime. you're laying on the rug on your bedroom floor, wearing nothing but his shirt and your panties, scrolling mindlessly through your phone. that's just like you to pay him no mind – to ignore him and feign innocence after playing such a dirty trick, knowing that you were probably on his mind for hours before. as he sets his bag on the bedside table, you barely move to acknowledge him, instead pleasantly thinking about how worked up and annoyed he must be at your blatant display of nonchalance.

"oh, you're here."

you turn over on your back, glancing up at him. there's that sweet face of yours. you're batting your eyelashes up at him like you hadn't done a thing at all, and now your shirt is riding up your thighs and ruching up the sides of your stomach. you know every weakness of his and exactly how to play them to your advantage. he rolls his eyes, kneeling down beside you. "yeah, i'm here."

snatching your phone from your hand, he tosses it on the bed in annoyance, and the first thing he does is scold you. "that wasn't very nice, you know, sending those videos during work. kunikida could have saw."

a frown forming on your face at his frustration, you pout at him. "did you not like them?"

you're too good at convincing him to forgive you – as if he were ever mad at you in the first place. his expression softens at your disappointed voice. you beam as he relents, pulling you into his lap and playing with the strands of your hair. "of course i did," he mutters as you relax into his gentle touch. "i liked them too much.

– but you know it's against the rules to touch yourself like that without me."

of course –

breaking the rules always meant punishment – and you'd be lying if you said this wasn't exactly what you wanted in the first place.

getting up from his position, you wait patiently as atsushi shuffles through the box hidden under your bed for the pair of cuffs saved exactly for punishments. you hear the quiet clinking of metal behind you, then feel atsushi's hands smoothing down your shoulders. "do you remember your safe-word?" he asks, and you nod, repeating it back to him.

"that's my girl..." he murmurs. his voice is a honeyed whisper in your ear, thick with desire and dripping with such sweetness as you feel him begin to adjust the restraints around your wrists from behind you. "just tell me if you want to stop, okay?" the leather is smooth against your skin but worn and slightly frayed, the cuffs already fit perfectly to your wrists from using them on you nights before. your back arches as you feel him tug on the restraints to test them, honey already collecting between your thighs at the anticipation of being touched by him.

you hear the quiet click of metal as he hooks the cuffs together. "is it comfortable?" he asks, his voice as gentle as always, and you feel his fingers intertwine with yours lovingly. you nod obediently, then melt into his touch as his hands brush through your hair, as his lips travel down your neck and your shoulder in a series of delicate kisses that you sigh into. you ache to kiss him back, to run your fingers through his silver hair, but the restraints hold you in place. all you can do is turn your body to slightly face him and hope he gets the message that you want more, that you want him to kiss you again as you tip your chin toward him, as you lean into his touch behind you.

you feel his hands grasping your waist, just slightly toying with the hem of your shirt. "you'll be a good girl for me, won't you?" – and he's brushing the underside of his thumb across your lips, gazing expectantly into your innocent eyes. nothing there but complete devotion. you nod, then his fingers are reaching elsewhere – between your thighs – and you're trembling with desire as you feel them hook under the waistband and peel the garment between your legs. "you're so wet already.

don't worry. i'll take care of you."

his fingertips are rough, calloused from all the fights he's been in, but his nails are perfectly trimmed, and he knows just where to touch you. the reassurances he murmurs into your neck make you pliant, and you spread your legs wider for him as he runs his fingers along the side of your thigh, teasing you with gentle brushes while his other hand grabs the swell of your breast. "pretty baby," he coos, and you turn your cheek toward him to gaze into his longing eyes. "you should have just waited for me to come home."

slowly dipping inside of you, you watch as your arousal drips from his fingertips. "baby, you're so wet... look," he sighs, lips soft against your earlobe. he's right – you're soaking, and the evidence is all there, the thin string of wetness webbing between his fingers as he pulls them between your legs. you gasp softly, half from embarrassment of just how wet he's made you already, and the other half from the feeling of a second finger being eased inside of you. you feel him smile behind you, grasping your waist tighter, "you can take it, baby, just like you take me. just stretch a little more."

then, he pulls his fingers out of you, and you hear the slick sound of them slipping out of you so easily. "but you want me here most, right?" he teases, his voice a low whisper in your ear, and you feel those skillful fingers of his encircling your pulsing clit – the place that he knows always makes you moan the loudest – and you nod desperately, hips chasing after his touch as you feel his fingers move farther and farther away.

"not yet, baby. not yet" –

and you obey.

you whine for him, beg for him, plead for him,

until his fingers seek you once more, until he brings you to the edge only to snatch it away over and over again.

when he can't take more of your begging, he unclasps you from your restraints, kisses up your inner thigh, gazes into your eyes lovingly and showers you with endless praises. then, pulling you into his arms, he bends you over your pillow, runs his hands up and down your body like you're a doll before taking you over and over until you've had your fill –

"that's my good girl," he whispers, kissing up and down your spine. "now you know to behave, right?"

author ps: i didn't write about the aftercare, but any bdsm scene should always ALWAYS include aftercare. + ofc atsushi would give u the best aftercare ever <3

© BSDAWGZ 2024. Do not steal or repost ANY of my works! That’s plagiarism, and it’s mean. :(( Beautiful dividers by @ v6que~!

[callahanisms]

apt.

unfortunately i don't really drink so i don't know any drinking games. so this fic is based on the song's ✨vibes✨

not beta read. first draft is my final draft mentality. uhhh based on promos and nothing else so if this becomes outdated next week i'm so sorry

pairing: ash x gender neutral! reader

word count: 2.1k words

accompanying bot: 🍻

You weren’t a heavy drinker. Not like you could be one anyways, considering you were deemed the designated sober friend for tonight. Not that you minded. You were more than cautious about drinking at a frat house. It was Essex’s only Asian frat and you had been invited by your friend Myung-Jun, or “MJ” as some of your friends call her. In all honesty, Essex had little diversity—an unshocking reality for 2021’s “Most Liberal College in America” which explains why Greek life was still mostly led by the historically white fraternities. The doors to the party were open to everyone because everyone at Essex liked to party.

Except your friends, for some reason.

You wanted to go with other people you know, outside of darling Myung-Jun. She was sweet and super into this guy at the frat and you didn’t want to end up third wheeling. But all your friends had other plans.

“There’s an event tonight at the antiracist research center. And as the events coordinator, I have to go. I organized it. I’ve been working on this for months!” is the excuse your friend Apinya gave you.

“I have homework.” was the excuse you got from three of your other friends.

“I have to stay at the lab to work on this report.” was Whitney’s reasoning.

“There’s an event at the KJ house tonight. Sorry.” Multiple of your friends were going to the KJ House tonight.

So essentially, it was just you and Myung-Jun and her friends, most of which you just met. And first meetings were always a little awkward, even at parties. You’re only nursing some Sprite in the red solo cup when Myung-Jun walks over, giggling. “(Y/N)! (Y/N)!” She says, her arm around the shoulders of a girl with shaggy dark hair, high cheekbones, and pouty lips wearing a denim jacket. “Oh my god! Are you having fun?”

“Yeah. I’m doing great.”

“You looked so lonely over here, so I thought I’d bring someone to keep you company!” She pats the girl’s shoulders. “(Y/N), this is Ash. She’s Talia’s friend.”

“Talia? Like…Talia Tran the philosophy major who already has an idea for what her capstone is going to be? That Talia Tran?” You ask.

“I mean…that’s one way to put it.” Your heart nearly stops hearing her voice. You can’t describe it exactly without letting someone else hear it. But her voice is warm, smooth and there’s a slight hint of a rasp. She clears her throat. Her cheeks are pink. “But yeah. Talia Tran. She’s cool.”

“You should’ve seen her! We taught her how to play APT. She can really hold her liquor!”

Ash shrugs. “I barely feel anything.”

“(Y/N) on the other hand, is a lightweight.”

“I-I’m not!” You feel your own face heat up with embarrassment. But it was true. A lightweight and depending on the day, you either got sleepy or really giggly. The first option didn’t exactly make drinking outside of your home or a friend’s place safe.

Myung-Jun looks between you two, smirking. “Ash is also single.”

Ash looks over at the slightly shorter girl. “Okay. Outing me as single already.”

Myung-Jun only giggles before walking away, leaving you alone with the attractive girl. She looks nice beneath the blue and purple lights of the fraternity house basement. “She does this a lot. When she’s drunk, she tries to matchmake. Unfortunately it actually seems to work.” You explain. It hasn’t worked so far, mostly because you didn’t want another situationship. Your last one ended pretty badly and left you laying in bed for the remainder of the year. It being winter probably didn’t help.

“How long have you two known each other?” Ash says, raising the volume of her voice so you can hear her over the loud music and people singing and dancing to it.

“Ring Ding Dong.”

Definitely fits the vibes.

Ash glances back, slowly moving towards you. The denim jacket is grazing your knuckles. She looks at you curiously with her eyes. “Since high school. She also ended up moving from the city to the suburbs like me. So we became friends in a school where everyone’s known each other since they were in diapers.” You also raise the volume of your voice as you talk to her.

“And you both went to Essex together? That’s cute.” Ash leans towards you, glancing down at your cup. “What’s your poison?”

“I prefer weed. A good edible. Not much of a drinker.” You take a sip. “It’s Sprite.”

“Honestly smart. I think I took too many shots of soju. I started hating the taste of yogurt.”

“That’s like the worst flavor!” You can’t stop the small laugh that leaves you and your lips from curling into a smile.

“It’s not. It’s very underrated. But honestly, I had enough for tonight.” She takes your cup and presses it to her lips.

If it was a man who did that, you would hate them immediately. But here was Ash, taking your cup and taking a sip of your Sprite. It was weirdly attractive, in a drunken sort of way. Of course, she might be a little tipsy, which would explain the lack of inhibition. Sober people usually don’t take other people’s drinks. “How do you know I didn’t mix it with anything?”

Ash looks at you up and down. “MJ told me you’re the designated sober friend for today.”

“That I am. But some people don’t like being sober friends.” You take the cup from her hand. You can’t help but admire how…relaxed she is. You’d probably be a bit of a mess if you weren’t sober. Some of these parties could be overwhelming. “Some sober friends end up more wasted than the people that brought them out.”

“Okay well…you’re not wrong. That’s happened on more than one occasion.” You finish up the Sprite and set the cup down on a flat surface. It wasn’t your house. They’d clean it up anyways.

“It smells too sweet down here.”

“That’s from all the people vaping inside.”

“Do you want to get some fresh air?”

Your heartbeat picks up a little bit. “Yeah. Sure.” You swallow your saliva, letting Ash take your hand and guide you through the dancing people, up the stairs, and out of the frat house.

Her hand was soft and the silver rings on her fingers were cool to the touch. You want to look at them more closely, feel the intricate designs and study them, ask her about how she got them, how long she’s been collecting jewelry. She was a silver girl it seems.

The air outside tastes better. It’s more crisp and you’re able to breathe without issue and needing to deeply inhale for some semblance of oxygen. But the air bites back against you through your thin clothes. Goosebumps form on your skin and you involuntarily shiver. It was supposed to be warm today. But you could never trust the weather app, could you?

“Now we can talk without yelling at each other.” She says, leaning against the wall of the house besides you.

“And breathe. Finally.” Your hand slides into the pocket of your pants and you could feel the joint inside of its tube. Pre-rolled of course. You didn’t have time to roll while working on your midterm papers. And you’re tempted to light it.

“So what are you studying?”

“Is that the question we’re starting off with?” You turn your head to look at her.

“It’s college. We all start with that question. What’s your name, what are your pronouns, where are you from, what are you majoring in.” Ash puts her hand out.

You roll your eyes. But you tell her anyway. Your name, your pronouns, where you’re from, what you’re majoring in at Essex. She doesn’t interrupt you, she just watches you with curious eyes. You fail to notice how her eyes glance down at your lips while you’re talking, too busy looking at other things because eye contact was uncomfortable. You soon end up going on a small tangent. About what, you don’t exactly remember because you mostly remember the biting chill of the wind.

“Sounds rough. I’m sorry your situationship was an asshole.”

You have to stop talking, looking at her. She’s looking at you with those big eyes of hers. Beneath the porch light, they look dark blue. Had you been talking about your situationship? “Yeah…I just…wish they were better.” You huff, crossing your arms over your chest. Your hands rub your upper arms, trying to get some friction going to warm yourself up.

Ash slowly slides her jacket off. “Here. Take it.”

“What? But aren’t you…” You look at what she’s wearing beneath the jacket. A baggy Depeche Mode shirt and a black compression shirt beneath. “Wouldn’t you also be cold?”

“I’m used to it.” She shrugs. “Come on. Take the jacket. Don’t be stubborn.”

The jacket does look cozy. So you take it, your fingers brushing against her own, and you place the jacket on your shoulders. “It’s a shame. If I was your situationship, I wouldn’t leave you for another average white guy.” She takes a step closer and you can feel her body heat.

“Really?” You raise your eyebrows. “I don’t know. People love average white guys. That’s the whole point of the white boy of the month trend!”

Ash clicks her tongue against the roof of her mouth. “People are…shortsighted, I guess we’ll say.” Her hand cups your face. You blink. Shivers run down your spine. “They don’t realize they have someone awesome in front of them.”

“And…are you…” You lean closer. “Are you saying…you’re not shortsighted?”

“I’m just saying…I appreciate people as they are.”

Your brain can’t process the sudden physical sensation of warmth against your lips. Ash’s lips on yours, her hand holding your face in place so she can set a sensual rhythm. Your stomach churns, your heart feels like it’s going to burst from your rib cage. When you breathe in, you can smell the scent of bergamot and sweet oranges lingering on her clothes. It’s a little overwhelming actually.

The kiss itself is overwhelming.

You pull away, breathing heavy, face hot. You might collapse. Ash looks at you, your lips parted, and there’s a flash of disappointment in her face. “Shit. I’m sorry.” She says immediately, pulling back. You already miss her body heat. “I shouldn’t have assumed—”

“No! No!” You grab her other wrist and pull her back towards you. “I…Sorry. I just…I haven’t kissed someone in a while.” You swallow. “A-And…” Ash looks at you expectantly, but there’s a sad expectation reflecting in her eyes. It’s as if she’s expecting you to reject her.

Who would reject her?

“You’re the first person in a while. And I…I liked it.”

Those sad expectations leave her eyes, replaced with a sparkle that mixed hope and suggestion. “So…do you want ano—”

You kiss her again before she can finish her question. You add more pressure to the kiss and some more passion. Ash melts beneath your touch, pulling you closer with one hand resting on the side of your neck and the other resting at your hip. She enjoys that you taste of Sprite. Her teeth gently bite down on your bottom lip and pull, causing you to gasp. Your back stiffens from the shiver that runs up along it, your hands beginning to slide along Ash’s sides. Your other hand goes to the back of her neck, gently wrapping some of her hair around your finger.

Ash finally pulls away, her breathing heavy, her chest moving up and down. “Do you…want to get out of here?” She asks.

“I…” You think back to your friends. “I shouldn’t—”

“You absolutely should!”

Both you and Ash nearly jump. You both look, seeing Myung-Jun taking a hit from her vape and blowing. “MJ! H-How long have you been out here!” Your voice cracks as you speak, only furthering the embarrassment of getting caught making out with a girl you just met.

“Sorry, sorry. I didn’t want to interrupt.” The Korean girl giggles. “Go have fun (Y/N). Just text me when you get back to our dorm. If you get back.” She raises her eyebrows suggestively.

“I’m…W-What about you? And being your sober friend?”

“(Y/N), I’m smarter than that. We have multiple sober friends. Besides, Kimberly and Bela are here. They can take care of me.”

You furrow your brows, thinking. “Since when…” You shake your head. “Okay. Fine. Text me updates okay?”

“Okay~” Myung-Jun winks at you, taking another hit from her vape and then sauntering back into the frat house.

You lean your head against the wall of the house, groaning a little bit. Ash can’t help but let out a small laugh. “Don’t look so embarrassed.” She says.

“I’m not embarrassed.” You look down at her.

“I think your face says differently.” Ash grabs your hand, intertwining her fingers with yours. And you let her pull you off the wall and take you back to her dorm.

You ended up submitting your paper late. Thank god for having a chill professor.

[reddesires]

Hiii, I would like to start by telling you that the way you write is really good!!! 💗 I really appreciate the hard work you put into each of your writings thank you for all of your work🫶🏻. Now I came here te speak up for my Caesar girlies ( including myself🤗)we need ( or at least I NEED) some NSFW alphabet head cannons!!!

Caesar NSFW Alphabet

[Caesar x Human!Reader]

A/N: hehe 🤭 writing for Caesar always got me giggling and kicking my feet. Thank you so much for the support. It means the world to me! And I want to thank everyone who has been my avid supporters. You're the reason why I'm motivated to keep writing ❤️ love you guys

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

Caesar is definitely a gentleman when it comes to Aftercare. He'll soothingly rub your aches if the sex was too rough and bring you sustenance. you can tell he's a big softie when it comes to your needs, you are his mate and he'll do anything to make sure your comfortable and satisfied in every way (if you know what i mean 🤭)

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

His favorite body part of his is hands, he likes the way you crumble when he has his hands on your body, when his fingers are inside of you and your struggling to contain your moans make him go wild. He's definitely a boobie guy. He likes watching the way your boobs bounce with every thrust of his hips and how malleable they feel in his hands. You are absolutely perfect.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Yeah, he's a breeder LOL he's gonna cum inside of you every chance he gets, I mean it's innate for him so he can't really help it plus he likes to watch the way his seed drips out of you. The thought of you carrying his child really gets him going.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

There is times when he goes hunting and you will be ovulating at the time and your smell really gets to him so when he has time away from the others during the hunt, he'll masturbate just so he won't be distracted by your scent.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

At first, not so much, he's never been with a human before, but he's a fast learner, and it'll seem like he always knew. He'll know how to fuck you in all the right ways, you'll never leave the nest unsatisfied, he knows everything there is to know about your body.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

Missionary, he likes watching the expressions you make while he pounds into you, how you wrap your legs around his tapered waist. He also likes watching how your boobs bounce.

If he's really in the mood, your on all fours and he's fucking you nice and hard just so he could really hear your moans echo throughout the nest and if you beg him enough he'll pull your hair if you want it rough (you obviously taught him that one)

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not all honestly, Caesar is very down to business when it comes to fucking you. Mating with him is usually sensual or rough, it really depends on his mood but either way your totally down for it (I mean who wouldn't he's fucking hot)

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

He's an ape. He's got hair all over LOL

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

Caesar can be stoic but he definitely has a romantic side to him, he has his moments where he'll show you how much he adores you, you are after his chosen mate and he cares for you very deeply. All you have to do is ask, and he'll be gentle with you all night long if he has to.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Caesar is the kind where he'll keep it on the downlow when he's jacking off but he's totally not above masterbating when he thinks of you and your not there to satisfy him but you can bet you'll be getting dicked down when you do come back.

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Breeding Kink - Like I said before, he likes to cum into you whenever he gets the chance, it's only natural to him plus it feel so damn good. The thought of you carrying his children only encourages this Kink.

Mutual masturbation - He'll watch as you touch yourself basically torturing the both of you as he jacks off himself, it'll go on until finally he snaps and absolutely fucks you into elated delirium.

Hair Pulling - When you first suggested it, he was hesitant since he didn't want to hurt you in any way but when he finally gave in and tried it, it seemed like it awoke something in him and now you don't even need to ask twice.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

He'll do it anywhere, he doesnt care if your nowhere near the nest, he'll fuck you in the forest, behind the horse stables, behind some random tree for all he cares, your gonna get that dick regardless.

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

Your scent could pretty much gets him going, especially when you're ovulating it makes him go pretty much feral. He'll be in your personal space not even caring that the others are staring at his blatant display of affection as he's burying his face in your hair and you embarrassedly try to ignore the eyes watching you two.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Anything that could hurt you, he refuses to inflict any type of pain that isn't enjoyable onto you. Also, nothing involving bodily excrement. He's just sophisticated like that.

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

He prefers to giving, he'll eat your pussy like he pro, he just knows how to work his tongue. He loves the taste of you and to edge you to your limit, the grip you have to fur on his head and the cage your legs illude to drives him crazy.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Depends on his mood. If he's stressed from his duties as the ape king, the tension catching up to him and needing an outlet, he'll fuck you fast and rough with all intention of leaving you a panting and sore mess.

If you tease him to his limit, then expect to be bent over wherever you two are. He'll show you what happens when you test him.

But there is also times where he's slow and sensual, when you are in need of a sturdy and loving sex session or when he feels like you really deserved to be worshipped by him as your chosen mate.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He isn't too big on Quickies, he enjoys taking his time with it but he isn't opposed to it when there's little time to indulge and you insist on it, he's weak when it comes to you seducing him after all you are his mate and he thinks your sexy as hell.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Yeah, he is. He's open to doing whatever your willing to teach him, afterall he enjoys pleasing you and he enjoys learning new ways to make you hot and bothered.

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

At first he didn't last long but overtime he built up the stamina just so sex was more pleasurable for you, since your a human and it takes more time for you to cum he wanted to take that into account so you enjoyed it as much as he did.

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

No, unfortunately since the decline of the human population that also means the disappearance of toys to try out 😪 but you'll always have the hands and magical tongue of Caesar.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

He'll have his moments where he'll tease the hell out of you, he's very smug and coy about it.

I mean he does enjoy to deny the two of you of touching each other until it's almost tortuous so he's down to tease you just cause.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He's not really loud himself, grunting and low sounds of pleasure escaping him at most besides it's hot to hear him lose himself while he's inside of you right into your ear.

Now you are a whole other story, he better hear your moans for all to hear, he doesn't give a fuck what they think afterall he is too deep inside of you to even care.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

He does enjoy pushing your panties to the side and fucking you that way, for some reason he just finds it incredibly sexy. He especially loves it when you two are outside of the nest, your panties are definitely being pulled to the side.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

He's about average, 4-5 inches, but he serves girth! Baby! And you'll most definitely be feeling him in all the right ways since he knows how to dick you down just right.

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

He gives you about 3 rounds, but there's always too much of a good thing, so the minimum is a good 3 rounds. But if we're talking Oral wise, yeah, he can go as long as you can take it.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He waits for you to fall asleep. He enjoys watching your sleeping face. He, in general, always watches you fall asleep in his arms, gently soothing the skin on your cheek admiring his mate in all you perfect glory. He loves you so much.

[elliespassagerprincess]

can u pretty please with a cherry on top make a part 4 to the milf abby 😔🙏🏼💟

Headcannons: Milf!abby anderson x reader (part 4)

part 1 part 2 part 3 part 4

Authors note: Ladies and pookies I'm back! This last week has been the worst and most painful week of my life but, I'm back and better than ever <3

☆ Milf Abby who gets your initials tattooed on her ring finger.

You felt her calloused hands grab your waist as you stood admiring the ring she got you.

“it’s pretty” you muttered

“you’re pretty” she said with a smile

“shut up Abby” you shoved her to the side as you felt your face grow hot.

The two of you stood in silence for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet you both rarely get with Aubrey

“you know” Abby started “if the bride gets to wear an engagement ring, what about their partner?”

Your brows furrow, at the thought.

“that actually makes a lot of sense Abby. We should get you a ring-“

but before you could even finish you sentence Abby lifted up her right hand revealing the tattoo.

“what the fuck Abigail”

☆ Milf Abby who refers to you as her wife long before the wedding.

“Yeah my wife and I went there”

“she’s my wife”

“my wife likes that show” “you know what they say happy wife happy life”

☆ Milf Abby who buys you white dresses as gifts just to see what you would look like in white, because she really couldn’t wait for the wedding.

☆ Milf Abby who’s literally a perfectionist and plans the wedding without a planner.

“No, you aren’t folding the napkins right” “that isn’t the right shade of pink”

☆ Milf Abby who asks her daughter to be the ring bearer and the maid of honor.

Aubrey looked at you with curious eyes as Abby placed the box onto her lap.

“dude what’s this?”

“Aubrey I’m not your friend, who taught you that word?” Abby sighed

“grandpa did” “of course he did. He really needs to stop-“

 “Abby lets focus on the box” you interrupted her, knowing this conversation wasn’t going anywhere.

“Can I open it please?” Aubrey asked you, with a polite smile.

“of course she’s nice to you! You little gremlin-“

“Abby!”

Abby felt Aubrey pinch her arm at the gremlin comment

“why would you-“

“ok” you said with a stern voice “lets open the box, you guys can fight later”

sometimes it felt like you were living with children.

Aubrey’s small hands grabbed the box, eagerly tearing away the wrapping paper. In the box lay a simple white dress, with paper rings. The little girl gently grabbed the fabric, inspecting it. She saw the rings and it took her a while to get it.

“I’m carrying the rings?!” she yelled

“and we were hoping you’d be our maid of honor too” you pulled out a basket from behind you and the girls smile grew.

☆ Milf Abby who begs you to let her go with you when you go wedding dress shopping.

“please”

“Abby its bad luck”

“fuck the bad luck”

☆ Milf Abby who sends you thumbs down emoji’s the whole time you were gone.

☆ Milf Abby who doesn’t want to sleep in separate houses the night before the wedding.

☆ Milf Abby who sends you cringe Facebook minion memes and jokes because she misses you. This was your first night apart in months, but she knew after tonight she would be waking up with you next to her for the rest of her life.

☆ Milf Abby who barley slept that night. She wasn’t sure if she was nervous or excited.

☆ Milf Abby who gets ready extremely early. Her hair was out of her normal tight braid, and the hair fell to her shoulders. Her black suit hugging her in all the right places.

☆ Milf Abby who starts at herself in the mirror too long, and she suddenly notices her wrinkles, she suddenly notices the grey hairs.

☆ Milf Abby who gets cold feet.

☆ Milf Abby who starts crying because you didn’t deserve this.

You needed someone younger, some who doesn’t have back pains and complains about their joints hurting. Someone who wasn’t turning 50 soon.

Someone who won’t die soon.

You needed more than Abby.

Abby’s loud sobs filled the room as she looked at herself in the mirror.

She should call this off.

“Abby?” her head snapped to the direction of the door. It was her dad. She quickly wiped her eyes, and she sniffed a couple of times. “hey dad” he slowly walked towards her, and he gently sat next to her, putting his hand on her shoulder he muttered “you okay?”

The blonde sitting next to him broke out in sobs, her head fell to his shoulder “oh honey” he breathed as he held her close.

“Abby what’s wrong?” He felt his daughter tremble next to him. “i- I’m keeping her back in life” Abby started, and Jerry just sat and listened to her.

“I’m so old I’m probably going to die soon. Who wants to be married to a grandma? One of these days I won’t be able to get out of bed without complaining. And she’s so pretty and young- she-she deserves everything, and what can I give her? My future dentures?”

“have you ever thought that this is what she wanted?”

Abby lifted her head to what her father said.

“The fact she’s marrying you proves that the love she has for you is endless. She’s willing to look after you when you do get those dentures. She wants you as much as you want her Abby, don’t let your insecurities stop you from being with the love of your life. And yeah, you’ll get old, but she’ll be with you”

☆ Milf Abby who goes to the venue earlier than everyone to make sure everything is ok.

☆ Milf Abby who stood at the altar with sweaty palms, waiting for your arrival.

☆ Milf Abby who started crying as soon as you start walking down the aisle.

 ☆ Milf Abby who couldn’t take her eyes off you the whole ceremony because she realized that this was it. She was marrying you.

☆ Milf Abby who shed more tears than you did during your vows and she cried even more when Aubrey came with the rings.

☆ Milf Abby who practically jumps on you when they said she could kiss you.

You felt her hands grab your face, and she brought you in for a rough kiss.

The crowned screamed around the two of you and you heard the clicks of all the cameras. You felt Abby’s lips smile against yours before she pulled away putting her head against yours.

She whispered “I’ll love you forever”

“I love you too abs, forever and always”

[5targh0st]

NUMBER ONE GIRL

40. loyal and kind (written)

prev // m.list // next

TW: implied sexual activity (I mean it's definitely not smut and is more of a mention of sorts but yeah)

Everything is ready. You've been waiting for this day to come for ages and today you're finally surprising Yeonjun. Up until now, he's always been the one planning everything and making sure you're always having a great time. He even made you a song. So, after all the mess and drama, you think it's only fair to reciprocate his actions.

It was rather awkward, talking about your feelings for him with his friends, but it was also easy and natural. Going on about all of the things you like about him when they also knew that side of him was refreshing. You didn't have to explain your feelings or try to convince them about anything; they understood.

You have to admit how grateful you are for all of the help and support Beomgyu gave you in the last few days. He's an amazing being but that's not something you're gonna tell him anytime soon.

Bringing Yeonjun to the festival without disclosing your true intentions was harder than you initially thought. He wanted to get dinner at a nice place and maybe go to the movies, he just wanted a date night. It took some convincing but he gave in and agreed to come with you to the festival.

Heesung smiles at you and gives you a thumbs up. Part of you wishes that Hyunjin was there, he is great at making you feel at ease, but wouldn't change Heesung does the world. He's been so supportive and caring that you've come to appreciate him in a way you didn't think possible before.

You hear your name being called and you walk up to the center on the stage with Heesung following you closely. You scan the crowd and see your friends cheering you on and, a few steps to the side, you catch a glimpse of Yeonjun's stunned expression. Beomgyu puts his arm around Yeonjun's shoulder and says something in between his laughter.

You feel the heat rush to your face but force yourself to speak. "Hey, everyone!"

Some people cheer but you don't seem to notice, your ahead are sizes on someone else...

"I'm YN and you probably don't know me but I've been here before. I'm part of a nameless band and sometimes I sing alone, although my friends are always here to show their support. Anyway, I'm not a musician by any means but I sing because it's fun and I'm not exactly bad at it.

I'm a photographer. Being the center of attention has been quite the experience, but I don't hate it. And I'm probably talking too much, but I promise it's important.

I take pictures of people and places to express something, I like to capture feelings in a way that everyone can get to catch a glimpse of the world through my eyes. I think I'm the most honest I can be through my photos. Today, however, I want to reach someone in their own language.

There are so many things I wanna say to you, but the most important of all is that I want you, all of you. The good and bad parts, your laugh and tears; I want all of it. I don't care about your past, the only thing that matters is that you're with me now. So, this is for you..."

You turn to Heesung so he starts with the piano and then you close your eyes. "When you think of all the late nights..."

Yeonjun can take his eyes off of you. His smile is so bright and can't even speak. Beomgyu wants to mock him, he really does, but there's this warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest that doesn't allow him to. He's never seen Yeonjun so happy before, not even with Yuna. He's happy for both of you.

"Your mother brought you up loyal and kind

Teenage love taught you there's good in goodbye

Every woman that you knew brought you here

I wanna teach you how forever feels..."

You meet his eyes and you notice this sparkle that wasn't there before. He's glowing and you realize this is what love is supposed to be.

"... but I love you more." People might be cheering but you can't quite hear them. Your eyes just follow Yeonjun and his clumsy attempt to get through the crown and reach you.

"What are you waiting for, dumbass?" Heesung's voice brings you back. And, as if you were set free after a long time being kept in the dark, you run towards that bright light.

You're not sure who catches who, but you're finally in each other's arms. One of his arms secures you close to his body by holding your waist while the other cradles the back of your head. You can feel his heartbeat, as soothing as ever, and you realize it's in perfect sync with yours.

"No one ever made a song about me." He says trying to stop himself from smiling but failing miserably. He just can't hide his happiness.

"I wanted to surprise you." Your hands reach for his face and stroke his cheeks lovingly. How could anyone ever say he's not made for love?

"You did!" His eyes trail down your lips as if asking for permission. Such a sweet guy, but you don't wanna wait so you take the lead.

It's perfect. Maybe a little too good to be true, but you're both happy and that's all that matters right now.

After the festival, some of your friends go clubbing while others just disappear without explanation. You don't exactly care right now. You just go back to Yeonjun's apartment so you can talk.

"So Heesung and Beomgyu helped you?" He's amused at the implications. Of course he knew his friends liked you but them going out of their way to help someone is completely new.

"They did!" You then tell him every detail about the creative process and how good of a teacher Heesung actually is.

"You really mean all those things?" He asks shyly. "You actually wanna be with me?"

"We all have a past; even I've done some things I'm not very proud of. But the thing is that you're not what you did or the people you've been with. And people talk and say mena things but they don't know you. And you don't have to explain anything to me, Jun." You reach for his hand. "We've all hurt others, and we've been hurt. We make mistakes, it's a part of growing up. Of course, people told me some weird things about you, but they haven't seen the way you care for the people you love. They don't notice the way you're always willing to help your friends, or how you always make sure to bring snacks cause you know Beomgyu forgets to buy his own. The way you talk so highly of Heesung and Soobin. That's the Yeonjun I know, that's the Yeonjun I care about."

His eyes fill with tears and you can tell his making a huge effort to not hide from you. "I love you." His voice is so low you almost think he didn't say it.

"I love you too."

Waking up next to him is kind of your favorite thing to do lately. His eyes fluttering and his nose scrunching are one of the most adorable things you've seen.

His arms remain locked around you and you feel his skin against yours. The memories of what happened last night make you blush. You clearly remember his lips against yours and the sight of his bare chest.You're not sure of what happened next but the feel of his hands caressing your skin and exploring your body still lingers and makes you feel at peace. It's kinda weird how you've never felt like this with anyone before. Yeonjun is intense and abrasive but, when you're with him, there's this soft and soothing feeling that engulfs you and you can't help but bask in his harmonious presence.

"Good morning, baby" His sleepy voice is so endearing.

"We're on a pet name basis now?"

"I'm your boyfriend now, so I get to call you baby."

His declaration almost makes you chuckle. You've been someone's girlfriend before and, by extension, you've had boyfriends before. However, no one's ever been so proud of being yours; he's not claiming you, he's devoting himself to you.

"Well then, since I'm your girlfriend now, I get to call you Jun or Junnie."

"Fine, but I get to call you angel and love on special occasions." He rolls his eyes playfully.

"You're so demanding!"

"I never said I was a low maintenance partner."

"Can I still change my mind?" Your teasing tone doesn't go unnoticed.

"Absolutely not! You were the one who said forever first," he tightens his grip on your waist, "so no take backs!"

After a shower and looking through his closet for something that doesn't make you look like a hobbit, he takes you out to get breakfast. If you thought he was unbearable when it comes to paying back when you were dating and even just friends, he's the worst with this whole boyfriend status.

He is your boyfriend after all, of course you're not paying for anything as long as he's here. For him, this is just the bare minimum. He's well aware that you're more than capable of paying, and he's ready to back down if it becomes an issue, but this is like basic boyfriend shit so he's just doing his best.

Seeing you laugh and having fun is enough to make his heart dance in his chest. Truth be told, he still feels like you deserve way more but he's gonna do everything in his power to be more for you.

"What are we doing tonight?" He asks with those adorable eyes that you've come to love so much.

"How about game night with the girls?" You suggest.

"Karina hates me!" He groans.

"She can't hate my boyfriend."

"Fine, but invite Hyunjin."

"Deal."

He's never been only hostile to Minho's friends but after spending some time with them, while respecting their limits, he's come to like Hyunjin. Maybe, under different circumstances, they could've been great friends.

notes:

imma be honest here, I'm hurting myself with all this fluff

finishing this here did cross my mind but we die like men here so pls have fun with the next few wholesome chapters

yeonjun is SO happy

basically everyone is rooting for them and I love it

I'm really happy about this development but yeah let me know what you guys think

taglist: (29/50)

@estella-novella @poetryforthesad @lisaswifey @angelzforu @ihrtlix @gloriousqueenking @domfikeluva @circus-of-thoughts @conwunder @miniature-tragedy @jeonginplsholdmyhand @sh0dor1 @yourenzoo @tkshairband @realrintaro @castingjinx @amara-mars @hwangrfrnd @nujeskz @jisungs-iced-americano @zeizeisjy