#goes for anything intimate/close like that really

[mustangs-flames]

Fluffy Siam headcanon: When they cuddle, Cian likes to be the big spoon because it makes him feel in control and safe, and Sam likes to be the little spoon because it makes him feel loved and cared for, and even though they didn't feel that often growing up, they get to feel it with each other <3

🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺💜💜💜💜💜

[microwavetoaster-selfships]

Okay. Sharing my stupid silly thoughts thst I talked about last night because i finally got the energy to doodle them and I've been giggling over the idea again. Just. Be warned. It's really stupid. And half the reason that it is humoring me so badly is because it is such an absurd idea. I don't even. Care if it's accurate at this point it's just. Fung.ny. c.cringe is dead I can embarass myself on my own blog forgive me everyone but also I think you maybe know what to anticipate . You've been here long enoug.gh.

"Absurdly big bed." Has been a thought that's just been cracking me up really badly as of late and I don't knownwhy. Maybe because it is such an un-necessity. No one need a bed THAT big. No one needs a bed that is bigger than my room.where you have to crawl like fifty feet just to be at the centre of it. I just.

But like. Bigger.

But also the thought that ended up proceeding this was "what if Absurdly big bed but also blanket hog. Like can you imagine having it all to yourself but also like.

You don't. YOU DONT NEED TO DO THAT IT'S NOT GOING ANYWHERE!!!!!! It's all yours you're fine. But also a more dramatic depiction than this. Blanket is kept to just the center 1/3 of the bed the rest is just empty. Small blanket mound in the center.

And on top of everything. One of the things in general has just been like. Okay sure, specifically placed pillows to lie on because lying down and not smooshing the brim of the hat(??) Is probably tricky but also also kind of limited to not laying on your side because of your stupid mustache because what if you judt wake up all wkdfuuw8fu2ud8gjefhufhwvt

But I guess that's also why there is. Comb. For said mustache.

Hitting him with Mallet but it is rubber and squeaky and soft and the hammer falls off of the stick in tbe middle of the up-swing. Okay I'm done stalling I'm hit post button. I can blame my incoherencey and wackiness on the time of the hour and when I wake up tomorrow pretend like I didn't post this.

[bbokicidal]

SKZ [OT8] + Slow Makeouts

Comforting, steamy, and way too good to be real. <- Is what I would say if they weren't absolute virgins.

Warnings: Suggestive Content (MDNI) Genre: Fluff/Smut Pairing: Virgin/Inexperienced!OT8 x NB!Reader Notes: Back to my regularly scheduled programming of writing everyone's favorite: Virgin!SKZ.

Chris can't keep his hands off of you. If you're kissing, he's holding onto you; Your waist, your hips, sliding his hands into your back pockets. He's grabby with soft intentions, never too rough with his hands but always trying to keep you close to him. And all of this usually occurs shortly after he comes home from working late nights. He needs the stress relief - that being just holding onto you and feeling your tongue on his own. Granted it never really goes past this because he's too shy to ask you to do anything more but, one day you'll get there.

Minho is lost in the moment. It's actually a slow makeout. His tongue lathes over yours so slowly it's almost torturous, lips closing down to suck over the muscle before pulling back and looking up at you with dark, wanting eyes - and then doing it all over again. The type to sit still while you're in his lap because he knows if he moves he's going to get hard - and then what happens? He isn't sure he's ready for that yet so... slow kissing is good for right now.

Changbin can't keep his lips in one place. He's kissing your lips, over your cheeks, down your jaw and throat - sucking marks into your skin like he knows what he's doing even when he absolutely doesn't. But he fakes it, feigns the confidence and just lets his body do whatever the hell it wants while he leans into you where you sit atop the pool table. He'll take his time with you, careful and cautious about where he marks your skin so he knows you'll be able to hide it the next day. And even if it feels like he'll go further when he dips lower towards your chest, he won't - because he gets too shy and his ears burn red the moment his fingers dip under the hem of your shirt.

Hyunjin can't bring himself to do anything more than makeout because he just finds it so... intimate. It's so romantic to him. He loves the feeling of your lips on his - cherishing the warmth of your tongue until both of your lips are bruised and swollen from sucking on each other for hours. He'll let his hands wander a little - though his favorite place to rest them is politely on your waist. He's just a gentleman like that. (And.. a little unsure of where to go from there. But he'll just tell himself he does it because he's a gentleman.)

Jisung is m e s s y. Messy makeout-er. Lowkey don't know how to kiss... The type to kiss you slow but it's only because if he pushes himself on you any faster he's actually going to cum in his pants and that would be wildly embarrassing on his end. (Even if you're into it and he doesn't know it.) So he'll settle with running his hands over your waist beneath your nightshirt, pulling you down into his lap on the sofa and kissing you silly. Lots of tongue, lots of spit - He's basically just drooling into your mouth with how much is coating your lips. A nasty boy.

Felix is careful with the way he kisses you. He's a fucking freak that's why. He's cautious of where he places his hands on your hips, swaying gently as his lips meet yours. His lips are so soft, taking care of them constantly in case you ever want to kiss him. Warm and sweet, he tastes like the treats he bakes every week for the two of you to share and the way he behaves with you is just as sweet. A sweet boy who just wants to make sure you're comfortable when he kisses you and it becomes a little more.. heated. (He won't tell you but each time you tell him his lips taste like sweets, he'll wonder if you taste just as wonderful. Only time will tell, of course.)

Seungmin only does slow kisses. There's no rushing him - whether he was a virgin or not he wouldn't let you get all riled up and huffy about it. His hands stay in your own, fingers laced together every time to keep you pulled close to him. He likes to take his time because he wants to make sure you're treated right - wants to make sure you know you're his number one. He, also, wants to make sure you know you're the one person he wants. He wants to get the point across before you two do anything more that he wants you to be his first without even having to say anything.

Jeongin can't rush. He won't rush. Well - maybe if he's a little tipsy and begging for you to grind on him and make him cum in his pants... But that's a rare occurrence. On the daily, and I mean daily, he'll sit on the edge of the bed and let you in between his thighs to kiss him goodnight - which entails, every night, making out with him to lull him to sleep. He'll hum into your mouth, his eyes will slowly slip shut and he'll let his hands fall from your waist to your hips; His fingers will hook in the belt loop of your jeans you wanted to desperately to change out of to pull you in closer to him, down into his lap. And he'll want you to keep kissing him all slow and warm until his mouth is practically just hanging open for you. Sleepy and very hard, he'll smile with a shy giggle when you climb out of his lap and tell him to get some rest while you wash up. He loves it - His little nightly routine. ~

Taglist: @dwaekkicidal @jabmastersurpriseee @possum-playground @thatonedarkskinnedsiren

@oc3anfloor @theyadorevalerie @inlovewithstraykids @seungminsbest

@edit-me-prettyplease @hyune-ssne @butterflydemons @satosugu4L

@skz8love @annafee_bou @dreamyyyyystarrr @franbowesax @4skz4ever

[psuejo]

❥ toji “homewrecker” fushiguro </3

it’s becoming a problem.

the sly looks, the ones where it always takes him a second too long to stop staring at your ass when you walk past or your tits when you show up to a birthday dinner in a low cut dress; the small smirks he throws your way, rugged scar stretching at the corner and making your traitorous heart (and pussy) throb; the compliments that always teeter far too close to being something far more than just friendly, but never topples over that line because if toji fushiguro is anything, he is careful.

you thought you could ignore it. you’ve been ignoring it for years now, ever since you and your current husband got engaged. whatever lingering feelings you had during college for toji are long buried, shoved deep, deep down in the recesses of your heart and locked away in a cold, metal box. what’s in the past is in the past, and that’s where it should stay.

you’re better than this. you know you are.

yet you can’t ignore the heat of toji’s touches, the way his hand presses against the small of your back or waist when he’s squeezing past you in the kitchen, nearly slipping down to your ass, or how he always hugs you just a little too tight, like he can’t stand to let you go. it’s even worse when the two of you are alone, that broad hand gently squeezing your inner thigh or thick arm thrown behind your seat, fingers toying with a few strands of your hair, as if it’s natural; normal, despite the both of you knowing it’s not.

far from it, really.

every word, every look, every touch toji fushiguro says, gives, or makes is undeniably intimate, something that’s only noticeable to you, bafflingly enough.

it’s wrong. of course it is. what kind of woman, what kind of wife would you be if you let this go on?

a disloyal, adulterous one, and that’s certainly not you. you’d never betray your loving husband like that, especially not with his own lifelong best friend.

you need to reject toji.

so you try. keyword being try because, despite you insisting that he should stop, that nothing will ever happen between you and that he should stay far, far away, he only comes closer and closer until he’s got you against the wall, soft breath mingling with yours and those sharp, emerald eyes locked onto yours.

“do ya really mean that, doll?”

you gulp, ears burning. the answer to that question is obvious:

no. no, you don’t mean it. if you did, you wouldn’t be here. you would’ve just told your husband and let him handle it.

you want him, just as much as he wants you, and you both know it.

fuck it.

you let toji kiss you, big hands holding the curve of your waist like they’ve always belonged there. you let him scoop you up into his strong arms and carry you to his bedroom, sloppy mouth on yours all the way there.

you let him lay you down and eat you out like a man on death row, thick fingers and strong tongue all desperate to stretch that drooling hole, even as you beg him to just fuck you already.

“ngh, toji, h-hurry up!”

a warm chuckle that goes right to your sensitive clit. “just—” smooch! “one more—” slurp! “a’ight?”

and when toji does get to fucking you, it’s heavenly — all eight, heavy inches dragging through your slick, gummy walls with every precise thrust of his hips. the stretch to accommodate his girth is painful, but that only heightens your pleasure, making you clamp down on him like a vice.

god, you’ve never been so cockdrunk in your life, eyes rolled back and jaw slack, allowing each and every unholy noise to tumble unobstructed from your soft lips like music to toji’s ears.

it’s truly a miracle his restraint held out this long.

“mmm, f-fuck, yes!”

“thereee we go. atta girl. tell me how good ya feel, baby.”

finally, when you cum, hard and blindingly fast, you let yourself get engulfed in your orgasm while toji spills into you with a low grunt and a bite to the meat of your shoulder, pumping that temporarily empty womb with his white-hot seed.

you let toji swing a wrecking ball into your marriage, let him split your picture-perfect home into two. after all, it’ll crumble anyway when that baby is born with black hair and grumpy green eyes, right?

[wintfleur]

❝ YOUR BODY KEEPS PULLING ME IN, GIRL ! ❞

𝓲. 𝑜𝗍𝗁𝖾𝗋𝗐𝗂𝗌𝖾 𝗄𝗇𝗈𝗐𝗇 𝖺𝗌 ⨟ 𝗌𝗆𝗎𝗍𝗍𝗒 𝖺𝖻𝖼 𝗁𝖾𝖺𝖽𝖼𝖺𝗇𝗈𝗇𝗌

` . . ── 𝓹airing luke hughes x 𝒇 ! reader

𝓻oro's msgs : ‘𝗀𝖾𝗍 𝖺 𝗅𝗈𝖺𝖽 𝗈𝖿 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗀𝗎𝗒’ 𝖡𝖱𝖮 𝖨𝖬 𝖳𝖱𝖸𝖨𝖭𝖦 🤲🏻 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄𝗌 𝗏𝖾𝗋 𝗌𝗁𝗈𝗎𝗅𝖽 𝖻𝖾 𝗎𝗉 𝗌𝗈𝗈𝗇 🫦 ｡｡ 𝖻𝖺𝗌𝖾𝖽 𝗈𝗇 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝖺𝗌𝗄

ᆼᆽᆼ 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄 & 𝗋𝖾𝖻𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗌 𝖺𝗋𝖾 𝗁𝗂𝗀𝗁𝗅𝗒 𝖺𝗉𝗉𝗋𝖾𝖼𝗂𝖺𝗍𝖾𝖽 ！

A = Aftercare (what they're like after sex)

Luke gets really sleepy and cuddly after the act, but he will always make sure you're okay and have everything you need. He’ll get you a warm, damp cloth to clean you up if you don't want to take a shower/bath yet. Make sure you get some water to stay hydrated or a snack, and then join you back in bed. Luke craves physical touch like he craves air, so he's going to be all over you, massaging and caressing, doing anything he can do to feel you. He holds you close, whispering sweet nothings and pressing soft kisses against your skin.

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

Luke’s favorite part of himself is his hands, for multiple reasons of course.  They fit perfectly with yours, they hold and caress your body, they are the first thing you grab, they lift or pull you closer when you're arched back, plus they are essential for his job. 

On you, luke finds it hard to pick just one. He’s captivated by everything that involves you, but he's just naturally pulled to your lips — literally. Those sweet, soft, and inviting lips that speak to him so lovingly, that kiss him so passionately, that look so irresistible wrapped around his fingers and cock. Your lips have him hooked every time you use them, pulling him even closer with every word you say or how you use them on his body. A close runner up is your ass…

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Luke doesn't try to be messy; it just sometimes happens to get messy. Luke obviously loves to cum inside of you, watching as his seed drips out of you, using his fingers to push it back in. But if he’s not cumming inside of you, he’s cumming on your thighs or your tits, loving to see you covered with his cum.

D = Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Luke loves it when you take control. There's just something so hot about seeing you take charge and guide him like he would you. The way you'd push his head between your legs, give him commands, push him on his back to ride him, hold his hips to control the pace, it all just drives him insane.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

He’s had a tad bit of experience, but he was still pretty new to everything, and he honestly preferred that because going through new experiences and learning not just what he likes but what you like with you was definitely beneficial for your guys' relationship. He’s a quick learner and naturally good at everything, so it definitely makes it seem like he's more experienced than he is. 

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

luke can't pick between missionary and cowgirl. He loves how intimate and intense missionary can be, staring into your eyes, his forehead pressed against yours, smothering you slightly with his weight, plus the fact that he can kiss you anytime he wants. Having you on top is an enchanting experience, whether he's lying down or sitting up. He loves to watch you, the way your expression changes when you move your hips differently, the way your hands are clinging to his chest or shoulders, his hands squeezing your ass or hips, either of you controlling the pace. 

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

It really depends on how he's feeling and the situation. He’s an emotional person so he usually likes to keep things more serious in intimate moments. He likes to tease you, but it's all out of adoration. but really, he just wants you to be comfortable, so if things get a little silly and lighthearted, then he's fine with it.  

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

It’s all about intimacy with Luke; he's secretly a hopeless romantic at heart. Sometimes he just wants to make love instead of fucking. He wants to really cherish the moment, worship your body, whisper sweet things, and just feel your skin against his. The pleasure always feels more intense. He loves holding your hands, keeping eye contact. Will always praise you. 

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Luke really only jerks off when he's away from you and desperate, usually when he's gone for away games, and even then, it’s almost always on FaceTime with you. If that's not possible, he just has to use his imagination and think of you. You keep him very satisfied, so he doesn't find the need to jerk off much.  

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

a bit of a breeding kink - he's young, and he's not ready in any way to be a father, but the idea of getting you pregnant actually drives him crazy. Watching his seed drip out of you, using his fingers to stuff it back in, teasing you about not wasting a drop. 

marking kink - he loves marking your body with his kisses and bites; he thinks you look beautiful with them, and it's just a reminder that you're his. Sometimes, he’ll see a hickey peeking out from your to,p and he’ll almost instantly get hard. He gets a little shy wherever you mark his body, knowing that he is going to get teased by his teammates if they see anything. 

size kink - he loves how different you are from each other physically. You have caught him many times comparing the size of his hands with yours; he loves spreading his large hand on your thighs, seeing how small you look trapped under him, your smaller hands gripping his arms.

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

It's easily the bedroom; you can do anything in there, and it's where the two of you are the most comfortable, physically and emotionally. A close second is the couch. From you riding him in the middle of a forgotten movie to fucking you lazily in missionary and pepering soft kisses alongside your face

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

Literally anything you do, really. But seeing you all domestic, in his oversized clothes, long eye contact, are a few things that really get him going. But again, anything you do turns him on. 

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

The idea of someone seeing or watching them is a big turn-off for him, so he stays clear of anything that’s public. He likes the private little world the two of you have, and he likes to keep it that way. He’s yours, and you are his; no one else needs to see, hear, or know your private life unless the two of you want them to. 

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

He’s very talented with his tongue; he has a habit of being sloppy, making a mess as he looks up at you with his desperate eyes. He’s most definitely a munch, could spend hours between your thighs, and god, you would let him with how talented he is. He LOVES it when you sit on his face; he was the one to ask you to do it for the first time, and ever since then, it's a thing he literally craves. He loves it when you tug at his hair or have your nails digging into his shoulders/arms. 

he will never say no to receiving, he is definitely the loudest he can be when he's getting sucked off. He’s a shy head pusher…he wants to, but he gets nervous that he's going to hurt you, so most of the time, you are grabbing his hand and moving it to your head.  and he kinda just loses control; whimpering, abs clenched, head tossed back, thighs trembling. When you stick your tongue out to show him that you swallowed everything, he's hard again. 

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

depends on the mood. He can be slow, deep, and sensual, just savoring the moment. he loves just thrusting into you slowly so you can feel every inch of him, his hands caressing your body. He can be fast and rougher, the sounds of skin slapping and your breathless moans urging him to keep pounding into you. He's always passionate. 

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

He’s not against them; he just prefers to take his time with you. Sometimes, neither of you can wait, and it just happens. It's usually before he has to leave for practices, etc, when he needs to let off some steam. 

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

Luke loves experimenting with you, figuring out what you guys like best. He's open to taking risks and trying new things, as long as both of you are comfortable with it. He’s an avid thigh grabber, sneaking his hand up your dress/skirt under the table. 

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

You doubt he has a limit, he's a professional athlete; he has great stamina. He can go for multiple rounds, sometimes even more if he's worked up. He can last pretty long, having you cum a few times before he does. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

not really interested in them for himself, he has you and his hand. If you have them, he'll definitely be curious about them, wanting to watch you use them or use them on you himself. He has bought a pair of fluffy handcuffs and a blindfold that the two of you often use. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Both of you enjoy teasing each other. He knows your body perfectly, and he knows exactly what to do to get you to your peak and just what to do to have you teetering over that edge. He likes to tease you because you sound so pretty when you beg; you get so desperate and needy. He can never keep it up for long, though; he always falls for your pleases.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

He’s not shy about letting you hear how good he feels, at least not anymore. Lots of heavy breathing, groans/grunts, and breathless moans. He gets more whimpery the closer he gets. Lots of your pet names and praises for you flowing from his lips. 

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

luke loves just fucking into you as deep as he can and just stoping. Smirking at the loud moans leaving your lips and the way your thighs and legs tremble as your body tries to take in how deep he is, you get cock drunk so fast, just becoming a moaning and babbling mess as you weakly cling to him. 

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

It's fairly high. Luke can be really horny at times, just really needy, touchy, and all that's on his mind is fucking you. But he's very self-aware that maybe your sex high isn't as high as his, so he can control himself if needed. 

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

He takes aftercare seriously, so he can never fall asleep without knowing that you have everything you need and are ready to sleep as well. He just wants to take care of you, make sure you're comfortable, and hold you close as you fall asleep. 

𝓇oro’s note. 𝗂 𝗇𝖾𝖾𝖽 𝗁𝗂𝗆 𝗇𝖾𝗈𝗐 🤓☝️… 𝗂 𝗁𝗈𝗉𝖾 𝗒𝗈𝗎 𝖾𝗇𝗃𝗈𝗒𝖾𝖽 𝗂𝗍 𝖻𝖾𝖼𝖺𝗎𝗌𝖾 𝗂 𝗅𝗂𝗍𝖾𝗋𝖺𝗅𝗅𝗒 𝗐𝖾𝗇𝗍 𝖼𝗋𝖺𝗓𝗒 𝗐𝗋𝗂𝗍𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗈𝗇𝖾. 𝗃𝖺𝖼𝗄 𝖺𝗇𝖽 𝗊𝗎𝗂𝗇𝗇 𝗐𝗂𝗅𝗅 𝖻𝗈𝗍𝗁 𝗁𝖺𝗏𝖾 𝖺 𝗏𝖾𝗋𝗌𝗂𝗈𝗇, 𝖺𝗀𝖺𝗂𝗇 𝗉𝗅𝖾𝖺𝗌𝖾 𝗀𝗂𝗏𝖾 𝗆𝖾 𝗌𝗈𝗆𝖾 𝖿𝖾𝖾𝖽𝖻𝖺𝖼𝗄, 𝗆𝗐𝖺𝗁 𝗑

<3 𝗍𝗁𝗂𝗌 𝗂𝗌 𝖿𝗈𝗋 𝗆𝗒 𝖻𝖾𝗌𝗍𝗂𝖾 𝖺𝗇𝖺 @winterbarnesblog

m.list

˖ ་ taglist : @cixrosie @lovings4turn @lesrflms @toasttt11 @winterbarnesblog

©️️WINTFLEUR ; you can't copy, translate, reproduce, repost my fic, use my plot or layout.

[cbeargyu]

what you want

summary: you and taeyong have been best friends since college, sharing your adult lives side by side—your flower shop, his branding firm, countless shared memories. but as you near your 30s, the yearning to become a mother grows unbearable. during a reunion trip to jeju island, a tipsy conversation turns into something tender, raw, and irreversible. what begins as comfort and shared vulnerability becomes something deeper—intimate confessions, unspoken love, and the beginning of a quiet forever.

pairing: bestfriend taeyong x fem!reader

genre: slow-burn, friends to lovers, emotional smut, soft romance, hurt/comfort, domestic fluff, eventual pregnancy.

warnings: breeding kink, unprotected sex (consensual, emotional context), impregnatio, pregnancy mention, emotional vulnerability, suggestive adult themes (18+), heavy romantic tension with soft resolution.

wc: 4,5K

notes: hi hiiii, okay so i've been dying to read smutty taeyong fics lately and it's been ALMOST impossible to find 😭 like 90% are mxm and there's barely any tae x reader content out there... if anyone has recs pls drop them in the comments ily. alsooo it's probably painfully obvious by now that i'm obsessed with the whole breeding kink + domestic fluff combo BYE that's literally my favorite thing ever 😩🫠💗

you’ve always been close to taeyong.

since college, really—when you met in that ridiculously stuffy marketing class during your second year. he was late that day, hair still damp from a rushed shower, a printed branding portfolio tucked under one arm, and somehow, he still managed to slide into the seat beside you with an easy smile and that soft voice.

you became inseparable after that. group projects, late-night convenience store runs, silent study sessions that turned into hours of talking about everything and nothing. you built a quiet rhythm with him, one that never required a label or explanation.

you opened your flower shop right after graduation. taeyong built his own creative agency, specializing in branding and design—sleek, intentional, always poetic in its aesthetic. you sent him flowers for his launch day; he designed the logo for your storefront for free. "it’s a gift," he said when you tried to pay him, his voice warm over the phone. "besides, i owe you for all the coffee you bought me during thesis week."

now in your late twenties, things feel stable. solid. your dreams are real. you run a blooming business. taeyong’s agency is doing well. life, on the surface, is soft and good. but there’s one thing that sits heavily in your chest.

you want a baby.

you’ve wanted one for years. even when you were young, you imagined yourself as a mother before anything else—before being a florist, a business owner, a woman navigating city streets with earbuds in and a tote bag full of errands. you crave that connection, the physicality of pregnancy, the quiet intimacy of raising someone who came from you.

but dating? nonexistent. your schedule is tight, your circle small, and the men you do meet are more interested in weekend flings than parenting plans. you’ve been obsessively reading about IVF, sperm donors, even traditional remedies your grandmother used to whisper about. you bring it up to taeyong one night, half-laughing as you scroll through forums.

“i don’t know what to do,” you admit, looking over the rim of your mug at him. “i’m not seeing anyone. i don’t want to wait until i’m forty. and i want to carry them. i want to feel them growing inside me.”

taeyong goes quiet.

he doesn’t have the answers, but he listens. tells you that you’d make an amazing mother. suggests maybe you could consider adoption, but you shake your head gently.

“i want to be pregnant,” you whisper. “i want them to be mine from the start.”

he nods.

he doesn’t push.

a few days later, he messages you.

taeyonggie👺 [11:13am]: remember our old classmates? they’re planning a reunion trip to jeju. want to go? they said you’re welcome too.

you hesitate, then say yes. maybe a change of scenery is what you need. something about the sea and the quiet and the way jeju always smells like citrus and wind.

you don’t expect to feel so at ease.

you arrive together, him beside you on the plane, headphones shared between you as you both doze off mid-flight. you’re staying at a cozy hotel not far from the beach—modern but warm, all wood accents and soft lighting.

there’s a mix-up at check-in.

“two rooms for y/n and taeyong?” the clerk asks.

“no, just one,” taeyong corrects, glancing at you. “two beds, please.”

you nod. it’s nothing new. you’ve stayed over at each other’s apartments before. this is the same. right?

your room has two full-size beds, a window view of the ocean, and barely enough space for both your suitcases. you joke about how you’ll end up tripping over each other, and taeyong just grins, tossing his duffel onto the bed by the wall.

the first two days are calm.

nakamoto yuta—now a travel content creator, all sun-kissed skin and open laughter—is the life of the group. seulgi, working as a creative director for a fashion label, is effortlessly elegant, always with a camera around her neck. also in the group: kwon eunbi, a vocal coach; hwang minhyun, managing a production company; kim seolhyun, running a podcast on pop culture; and kim hanbin, now a choreographer.

you spend your days exploring the island.

taeyong helps you pick tangerines from the orchard. you braid small wildflowers into your hair, and he snaps a photo when you’re not looking. he buys you honey ice cream and insists on carrying your bag when your shoulder starts to ache.

it feels like nothing’s changed.

but there’s a moment.

you’re inside the hotel lounge, grabbing drinks. yuta and taeyong sit near the back, shoulders low, conversation soft between them.

“you still in love with her?” yuta asks, voice easy but not teasing.

taeyong chokes on his drink. coughs. blushes.

“no,” he says, eyes flickering. “i mean, not anymore. that was...college. i’m over it.”

yuta raises a brow. “you sure?”

taeyong doesn’t answer right away. his fingers tap against the glass, slow. thoughtful.

“she wants a baby,” he says eventually. “that’s all she talks about now.”

“so give her one,” yuta shrugs.

taeyong laughs quietly. like it’s ridiculous. like it’s tempting.

he doesn’t bring it up again.

but something shifts.

you notice him watching you a little longer than usual when you laugh. his gaze lingers on the curve of your jaw, the line of your collarbone, the way you absentmindedly rest a hand over your stomach when you’re lost in thought.

you don’t say anything either.

you’re still just friends.

sharing a room.

sharing a life.

almost.

dinner that night is golden.

the kind that stretches out with laughter, grilled seafood, tangerine wine, and flickering lanterns strung up between pine trees. the restaurant is open-air, tucked near the cliffside with a view of the ocean glowing beneath the full moon.

everyone's a little tipsy by the time dessert comes around. yuta’s telling stories about backpacking in morocco and the time he accidentally ended up at a wedding. seulgi keeps taking pictures of everyone's reactions, cheeks flushed from wine. hanbin and seolhyun are arguing about the best era of k-pop choreography. eunbi sings a soft verse of something nostalgic, and minhyun smiles so softly you wonder if he's thinking of someone he left behind.

taeyong is beside you. always beside you. refilling your glass with something citrusy. resting his arm along the back of your chair. letting his knee bump into yours and not pulling away. the heat from him is steady. familiar. almost too much.

later, the drinks keep flowing back at the hotel. minhyun brings out a bottle of plum soju he brought from seoul, and that’s when it really starts. shots. dares. flushed cheeks and slurred memories.

you’re warm. glowing. a little too honest.

“i mean it,” you say, your voice low, shoulders loose as you sit with taeyong on the floor by the balcony door, away from the noise. “i think about it every night. sometimes i dream about it.”

he looks at you, gentle. “dream about what?”

you lean your head against the windowpane, watching the wind rustle the curtain.

“having a baby,” you murmur. “being pregnant. the little kicks. the soft cries. the weight of them on my chest. it’s so clear in my mind. like… i can almost feel it already.”

taeyong swallows.

you’re drunk. not sloppy, just vulnerable in a way you rarely let yourself be.

“i’ve tried not to obsess over it,” you continue, voice quieter now. “but it’s hard. i want it so much. and i know it’s selfish to want the whole experience—the belly, the pain, the birth. i just… i don’t want to feel like i missed it, like i missed the chance to be the kind of mother i’ve always seen myself becoming.”

taeyong doesn’t know what to say. you can feel it in the silence. his fingers curl slightly, brushing the edge of your sweater.

“you’d be such a good dad, you know,” you say suddenly, eyes half-lidded, smiling gently now as the alcohol softens your words. “like… annoyingly good.”

taeyong blinks.

“you’d be the kind that warms up the milk just right. that kisses tiny foreheads. that always carries extra snacks. that reads the bedtime story even when he’s tired. you'd probably cry when they take their first step.”

he laughs under his breath, a little shaky. your words are melting something in him.

“and your baby would have your eyes,” you add, like it’s nothing. “those pretty lashes. and maybe your laugh. and you’d panic the first time they got sick. and hold them all night until they stopped crying.”

he’s staring at you now. full-on. wide-eyed, a little undone.

“you’d be so gentle,” you whisper. “you already are.”

taeyong shifts. swallows again. his voice is rough when he finally speaks. “don’t say that.”

you tilt your head, confused. “why not? it’s true.”

“because,” he breathes, gaze flicking down to your lips for half a second before pulling back to the ceiling. “you’re drunk. and i’m trying really hard not to do something i’ll regret.”

you blink slowly, the alcohol making everything feel suspended.

you’re suddenly aware of how close you are. how intimate this has always been. not the words. not the night. just you and him.

taeyong stands. runs a hand through his hair, frustrated.

“i’m gonna get some water,” he mumbles, stepping away from the room.

you stay behind, heartbeat thudding, his warmth still lingering beside you.

you meant every word.

but you don’t know if he’ll ever believe that.

taeyong returns to the table with your glass of water clutched between his fingers like it’s something to hold himself together. his pulse is still uneven, the weight of your words clinging to him like sea salt in the air—soft but undeniable.

you’re laughing at something when he returns. yuta’s grinning, telling a story about a disastrous photoshoot in cambodia that involved a monkey, a drone, and his own foolish confidence. your cheeks are still flushed, but your expression dims a little when your eyes catch his, like you can feel the shift. like you remember what you said.

taeyong sets the glass in front of you gently, and you whisper a quiet “thanks” without looking up.

he doesn’t sit down again. instead, he hovers, letting the chatter of the group wash over him, standing on the edge of it all. seulgi pulls hanbin into a debate about concept staging in idol tours, seolhyun’s already half-asleep on the couch, and minhyun is texting someone with a small smile. the night has thinned out. the fire outside has died, leaving only the dim golden lights strung overhead and the soft hum of a playlist playing someone’s nostalgic mix of late 2010s ballads.

by the time the clock hits nearly two in the morning, someone mumbles about calling it a night.

you blink blearily, your words slurring just a bit now, your weight leaning more and more toward the backrest of the couch. taeyong’s already there before anyone else moves, slipping a hand beneath your elbow and helping you to your feet like it’s the most natural thing in the world.

“come on,” he says quietly, warm breath by your temple. “let’s get you to bed.”

you nod sleepily, your body soft, trusting. your fingers find the edge of his jacket sleeve as he steadies you, and he doesn’t pull away. the walk to the room is silent, the hallways dim and muffled. your steps are clumsy, and he catches you more than once, his hand curling around your waist like second nature.

inside the room, it’s dim and warm. the faint scent of saltwater and clean cotton lingers in the air from earlier. you collapse on the edge of the bed you claimed the night before, one of two queen mattresses sitting side by side with a single nightstand in between. the tension returns with the silence, thick and cloying. he walks to the dresser and grabs a bottle of water, offering it to you.

you drink half of it. then sit there. watching him.

he avoids your gaze at first. fiddles with the hem of his shirt. looks out the window like he might say something—then stops himself.

but you’re still drunk. and honest. and maybe a little bold in the way you never let yourself be.

“you know,” you start, voice quiet, “i wasn’t drunk when i said you’d make a good dad.”

taeyong turns slowly. you meet his eyes.

you swallow thickly, fingers wringing the edge of your pajama top. “i’ve thought about it before.”

he blinks, lips parting like he wants to ask but isn’t sure if he should.

you continue.

"not just in the abstract. not just... you as someone’s dad. but you as my—" you stop, heat blooming up your neck. you exhale. “sometimes, i think about what it’d be like if you were the one.”

he says nothing, but his expression crumbles—something tender and wounded flickering behind his eyes.

“i mean, we’ve been in each other’s lives forever,” you say, softer now. “we grew up together in every way that matters. you’ve seen me fail and get back up and fall apart again. you’ve never walked away. not once. not even when i was unbearable. i trust you with everything. i always have.”

taeyong doesn’t breathe.

you keep going.

“so yeah. i think about it sometimes. about what it’d be like to have your kid. to raise them with you. to wake up to you and a messy little human with sleepy eyes and your stupid laugh. and maybe i’m insane, maybe it’s just my hormones or my loneliness or whatever—but the thought doesn’t scare me. it grounds me.”

you laugh, a little bitterly, wiping at the corner of your eye. “and that’s the worst part. because i know you don’t see me that way. or if you did once, it’s long gone. and i shouldn’t be saying this—i know that. but there’s something about tonight that makes me feel like i’ll burst if i don’t.”

taeyong moves before you can finish.

quiet. careful.

he kneels in front of you. not touching you. not yet. just there, looking up at you like he’s memorizing every curve of your face.

his voice is raw.

“don’t say i don’t see you.”

you meet his eyes.

“i’ve always seen you.”

your breath hitches.

taeyong lets out a quiet, shaky laugh. “you talk about me being a dad like i wouldn’t spend every second wondering how the hell i got so lucky to build a life with you. like i haven’t already imagined it too. maybe not with words. maybe not out loud. but… i have.”

you whisper, “you have?”

he nods.

“every time you smile like that. every time you bring me coffee with your name scribbled next to mine. every time you hug me like home. yes. i have.”

you don’t move.

he reaches for your hand—slow, reverent, like he’s afraid you’ll disappear.

“but i never let myself say it,” he murmurs. “because i didn’t want to mess this up. not with us. not with you. and definitely not like this. but if i’m being honest… the thought of you carrying my child?” he swallows. “that doesn’t scare me either.”

the room is silent.

you stare at him, your fingers trembling in his grip.

you whisper, “then kiss me.”

he does.

not rushed. not heated.

just true.

the kind of kiss that feels like coming home after years of wandering.

like maybe—just maybe—you weren’t crazy after all.

the kiss deepens slowly.

taeyong’s hands are warm on your cheeks, cradling you like you’re the most precious thing he’s ever held. you melt under his touch, your fingers sliding up his neck, into his hair, pulling him closer, closer still—like you’re afraid he’ll vanish if you let go.

he’s the one who gasps first when your lips part just enough to whisper his name. it falls from your mouth like a secret you’ve kept buried for too long, and he swallows it whole.

he pulls back slightly, forehead resting against yours, his thumbs brushing over your flushed skin. you can feel his heart racing beneath his shirt.

“y/n…” his voice is hoarse. “are you sure?”

you nod, soft and breathless. “i’ve never been more sure.”

and there’s something in your voice—something so certain, so full of quiet longing—that makes taeyong inhale like he’s taking you in for the first time.

his lips find yours again, slower now, more deliberate. his touch trails from your face to your waist, pulling you gently into his lap, like he needs you close enough to feel everything—the way your body trembles against his, the way your thighs tighten around his hips, the way your breath stutters when his mouth moves down your neck.

he tastes your skin like a prayer, like something he’s dreamt about in the quiet hours of the night when your voice was the only thing that could calm him down.

you whisper into the space between kisses, into the curve of his jaw, “i want it to be you.”

his breath hitches.

“i want your baby,” you murmur, your hand pressing over his chest, right where his heart is pounding. “i want to carry your child. someone small and perfect and warm, someone who has your eyes… your smile.”

taeyong lets out the softest sound, almost like a whimper, and you feel his fingers tighten on your hips, his body tensing like he’s trying to hold himself back.

you lean into his ear and say it again—this time slower, your voice shaking. “i want your baby inside me, tae.”

his hands slide up your sides, under your shirt, reverent and gentle. “god,” he breathes. “you have no idea what that does to me.”

“tell me.”

he leans back just enough to look at you—really look at you. his pupils are blown wide, his cheeks flushed, lips swollen and parted.

“i think about it all the time,” he says, barely more than a whisper. “what you’d look like with my baby growing inside you. your belly round and soft, your body glowing. coming home to you with your shirt stretched over the bump, your hands cradling it like it’s the most natural thing in the world.”

he presses a kiss to your collarbone, then another, lower. “i want to see you like that. i want to wake up and run my hands over your belly, feel it kick. talk to it. kiss it.”

you whimper, your fingers knotting in his hair. “tae…”

his hands slip beneath the waistband of your shorts, thumbs brushing over your hipbones like they belong there. “i want to fill you up,” he murmurs, voice thick and trembling. “not just for tonight. not just for the fantasy. i want this to meansomething. it does mean something.”

you nod, cupping his face. “i know. it does to me too.”

he kisses you again, deeper now, one hand at the small of your back, guiding you down onto the mattress. the room is quiet, lit only by the moonlight spilling through the window, and everything feels soft. intimate. warm.

he undresses you slowly, carefully, as if every piece of clothing he removes reveals another piece of your heart. your legs wrap around his waist instinctively, pulling him closer until there’s no space between you, nothing but breath and bare skin and whispered names.

when he enters you, it’s slow and deep, like he’s savoring every inch, like he’s trying to memorize the way you feel wrapped around him. your back arches, and he moans into your neck, your name a broken sound on his lips.

you’re both trembling—emotion thick in your chests, tears brimming at the corners of your eyes. because it’s not just sex. not just lust. it’s home. it’s years of friendship and quiet yearning finally coming undone in the safest way possible.

taeyong presses a kiss to your temple and whispers, “you’re perfect. you’re mine.”

you cradle his face in your hands, smiling through the tears. “give me everything, tae. i want to feel you. all of you. i want to feel you stay.”

his rhythm falters, just for a second, overcome by the weight of it all. “i’ll give you everything. i’ll give you a family.”

you tighten around him at the words, gasping.

“i want to make you a mom,” he whispers. “tonight.”

you nod frantically, lips parting, “do it. please. i want to feel it—i want to feel you—when you fill me.”

taeyong groans, hips stuttering, burying his face in your neck. “fuck. y/n…”

you whisper, “put a baby in me, tae.”

he thrusts deeper, harder now, the restraint beginning to crumble. your bodies are slick with sweat, moving together with a kind of desperation that feels like both a beginning and a promise.

when he finishes—inside, just like you wanted—it’s with a gasp, his arms locked around you tight, like he’s scared to let go. and for a long moment, neither of you move.

“i want you full of me,” he says against your mouth, already hardening again. “i want to make sure.”

you nod, dazed. open. warm.

“don’t stop,” you whisper. “please don’t stop.”

and he doesn’t.

he makes love to you over and over again, slow and focused, like each time is another chance to seal your wish into reality. sometimes he holds your hips, watching your face as you fall apart for him. other times he lays you on your side, kissing your shoulder while whispering how beautiful you are, how perfect you’d be with his child inside you.

when dawn breaks, you’re tangled together in silence. your body aches, sweet and sated. your thighs sticky, your heart full. his hand rests on your stomach again, like he’s already waiting.

he is groaning your name, whispering over and over, “mine. you’re mine. our baby. our future.”

you’re crying. he is too.

and when the trembling stops and the world is still again, he kisses your lips, then your cheeks, then your stomach.

“i can’t wait to see you grow,” he whispers, resting his head just below your ribs.

you run your fingers through his hair, heart pounding.

you whisper back, “i hope it has your eyes.”

the sunlight pours through the thin curtains like a slow, golden confession. the air smells like salt and lemon shampoo. taeyong wakes up first this time, his arm heavy over your waist, your back pressed flush against his chest. sunlight filters through the cream-colored curtains, warming the bare skin of your shoulder.

it kisses your bare shoulder first, then the soft curve of your waist, then the scattered marks taeyong left across your chest like constellations only he could read.

you’re the first to stir, eyelids fluttering open to the unfamiliar ceiling of the hotel room. for a second, you forget where you are. but then you shift slightly and feel the weight of an arm draped across your stomach, the steady rise and fall of a chest pressed into your back, and the unmistakable warmth of taeyong’s body, still wrapped around you like a second skin.

his breath ghosts against your nape, slow and deep, and you realize he hasn’t let go of you all night. not once.

you smile.

when you turn your head just enough to see his face, it nearly knocks the air out of your lungs. he’s peaceful like this—softer, younger somehow. his lashes rest against his cheeks, and his mouth is parted slightly, lips still swollen from all the kisses you gave him. his hand, large and warm, is splayed gently across your lower belly, protective and possessive in the same breath.

you reach down and lace your fingers with his.

as if he feels it, he stirs, humming sleepily against your skin. his nose nuzzles into your shoulder. “mmm… morning,” he mumbles, voice thick and low, still soaked in sleep.

you twist around slowly in his hold so you’re facing him. he blinks a few times, eyes still heavy, but when they focus on you, they soften in that way they always have—like you’re the center of his world and he’s been waiting all night just to see you again.

“you stayed,” you whisper, thumb brushing his cheekbone.

he smiles lazily, eyes fluttering shut again. “of course i did. where else would i go?”

you tuck yourself into his chest, your nose against his collarbone. “you feel so warm…”

his arms tighten around you instantly, drawing you closer until there’s no space between you. “you kept me warm first,” he murmurs, and you can hear the smile in his voice. “i didn’t want to let go.”

you stay like that for a while. breathing together. existing.

and then you feel him shift, one hand still resting over your belly, thumb drawing lazy, absent-minded circles over the skin there. he hums, low in his throat. “do you think… do you think it worked?”

your breath catches.

you look up at him, searching his face. he’s watching you carefully now, no longer groggy, eyes wide open and impossibly tender.

“i don’t know,” you whisper. “maybe.”

he leans in, kisses your forehead. then your temple. then the spot just below your eye. “i kind of hope it did.”

you feel your throat tighten with emotion.

“you do?”

“mmhm,” he nods, nudging his nose against yours. “i kept thinking about it last night… the way you’d look months from now. the way i’d get to take care of you. rub your back. cook for you. kiss your belly every morning.”

you let out a small laugh, wiping at your eyes with the back of your hand.

“i’d be so annoying,” you murmur. “always crying. craving weird stuff. complaining about everything.”

he smiles, brushing your hair behind your ear. “you’d be perfect. i’d love you more every day. and our baby… our baby would be lucky.”

you bury your face in his chest, overwhelmed by the sweetness of it. the certainty.

he strokes your back gently. “and if it didn’t happen this time… we try again,” he says softly. “no rush. no pressure. just us. just love.”

you pull back, tearful and smiling all at once. “you want to try again already?”

he grins, lips brushing your cheek. “i want to make love to you every morning for the rest of my life. but yes… also for the baby.”

you laugh, breathless, and he kisses the sound right out of you.

his hands start to wander again—slow, exploring, remembering. he murmurs against your lips, “can i stay inside you today too? just like this… all day?”

you nod, whispering, “don’t leave me empty.”

and he doesn’t.

he makes love to you again—this time slow and languid, under the weight of sunlight and morning warmth. he kisses your face like you’re already glowing. like you’re already carrying a part of him.

when he comes again, deep inside you, he doesn’t look away. he holds you through it. kisses your tears. whispers your name like a promise.

afterward, he pulls the blanket over your bodies, still tangled. still joined. he keeps his hand on your belly, and you both stay quiet, smiling softly.

as if the future is already there.

[caotictimmy]

I ATE THE WHOLE DAISUKE DATING HC AND I MUST SAY ALL THE BRAINROT THAT HAS BEEN STEWING IN MY MIND!!!

I think he's such a golden retriever bf 😭 like both ways— sfw and nsfw. HES SO DOWN BAD FOR YOU, he loves you so much and fjdkkd if his partner also has physical contact as a primary love language, he would die for headpats. Like genuinely, give this guy headpats be when you two are cuddling or when you are both in an intimate moment. You could reward him with a little patpat on the head when Swansea is not looking, and he would lean in to your touch a little bit before reminding himself, he needs to learn!! he needs to make you proud

NOW NSFW-WISEE.....

Praise kink goes so hard on him is insane

He could be eating you out with sparkles in his eyes, almost like asking if he's doing a good job, and if you do express it, tell him he's such a good boy, how good you are feeling because of HIM, he's going to go harder on you out of pure happiness—hes doing a good job!! you're like this because of his work and that amazes him

i could write more but my mind is a mess and im so sleepy wnwnkd.

🐁 out!!!

🐁 anon I love your thinking please don’t spontaneously combust. BUT IM SO GLAD THE HIM LIKING HIS HAIR/HEAD TOUCHED IS CATCHING ON OMG….

Sfw headcanons/thoughts

- Now that I’m thinking of it. I should have known he’d like head pats. LIKE I ALREADY GOT THE GOLDEN RETRIEVER BF VIBE FROM HIM.

- But he definitely loves getting head pats or his hair ruffled! Specifically he really likes it after/is doing something good. Like normal head pats are fine but. Knowing your giving him them because he did something good?!?!

- You guys have definitely gotten called weirdos by Swansea, cause you patted Daisuke’s head. Swansea wont say anything cause this man is emotionally constipated 💔. But he’s glad Daisuke has someone who Daisuke can be his true weird self.

- If your hand is somewhere close to his head, and he wants head pats. Daisuke will head butt his head against your hand to show he wants you to either play with his hair, pat his head, scratch his scalp, etc ect.

- I think like the first time he head butt your hand for attention was when y’all were cuddling. You had your hand by his head. And you weren’t taking hid obvious hints! (Slightly nudging at you). So well he just thunked his head against your hand. Ever since then he keeps doing that when he wants you to play with his hair

NSFW - DO NOT READ IF YOUR A MINOR OR UNCOMFORTABLE WITH NSFW (mostly AFAB some Gn )

- Omg please pull his hair. PLEASE. He loves it so much. Like holy moly. If you pull his hair while he’s deep inside. HES COMING IMMEDIATELY! Like pull just right and omg. It’s like a switch in his brain. And that man is going HARDER AND FASTER. Like I hope to burnt curly Anya can lend you a wheel chair.

- Omg just imagine Daisuke pulling his hair back during sex. OMG MY GYATTTT. Guys I see the light and it’s Daisuke pulling his hair back.

-(AFAB) I just thought of something. GYAHH IMAGINE SEEING DAISUKE TIES HIS HAIR BACK TO EAT YOU OUT(might need to make this into a FIC).I’m Actually foaming at the mouth. Guys wait let me cook.

“wait!”. Daisuke said. Before rolling a hair tie he had on his wrist for working on machines. Biting it as he collects his hair. Tying it up in a ponytail. Before pushing his sleeves up. Daisuke Looks back at You with a smile. “Now I’m ready” he say cheekily.

- Guys someone please draw Daisuke with a sexy man ponytail please I’ll be in debt with you. PLEASE HE’LL LOOK SO HOT JUST TRUST MY VISON!!!!

-(AFAB) Omg and grip his hair while he’s eating you out. Like omg if you’re pulling at his hair moaning. He’s gonna feel so good about himself knowing he’s pleasing you. Also if you ever shoved his face in your cunt while he’s eating you out. You gave yourself a death wish. CAUSE THIS MAN WILL NOT STOP UNTIL YOU HAVE TO PULL HIS HEAD AWAY.

You couldn’t take it anymore. It’s like he couldn’t stop. The pleasure was getting to much. You gripped his hair. Feeling him moan in you. You pull his head back, letting out that breath you didn’t know you were holding in. You could hear him catching his breath before hearing him let out a sad noise. You looked down seeing Daisuke giving you these sad puppy dog eyes. “Did I do something wrong.” He asked, genuinely concerned.

“No no! Just needed-“. You huffed, “need..need a moment.” You said dazed. He paused for a moment. The glimmer in his eyes back with a vengeance. He starts to grin. “Did I..” He started. Wiping his mouth with the back of his hand, cleaning your slick off around his mouth. “Did I do good?” He asked. Daisuke happily looking up at you waiting for your response. His grin got wider as he felt your hand rub against his head.

Authors note: GYAHH I LOVED THIS REQUEST SMMMM. Like, reblogd, and especially comments are appreciated! This was so fun writing thud.

[intrepidacious]

step number one

summary: You haven't kissed anyone in a couple of years. Johnny's more than happy to help you out.

pairing: johnny storm x f!reader

word count: 1.8k

warnings: friends to lovers, making out (in the name of practice) please note that my blog is rated 18+. minors dni. ageless/empty blogs will be blocked without warning.

a/n: this was supposed to be my valentine's day fic but here we are. c'est la vie. hope you still enjoy this fluffy nonsense a week later 🫶🏼

masterlist | read on ao3

"You got any plans for tomorrow?" Johnny asks the day before Valentine’s Day, spread out on your bed like usual, his eyes not lifting from his phone.

You snort. "Yeah, right."

There’s something, you think, about the aggressively pink-and-flowers-and-chocolate aesthetic of this month that well and truly makes you want to throw up. 14 per cent discounts and coupley pictures and cutesy videos have been flooding your feed for the past week and a half, and with most of your friends neatly paired off as well, it’s like there’s absolutely no escaping the—

"Why not?" Johnny asks. "I mean, pretty girl like you gotta have guys lined up around the corner." The smile in his voice is sincere enough to let you believe he really does mean that as a compliment.

"First of all, ew," you reply, closing your app after yet another "date fit" video. "Second, the last date I went on ended with the guy leaving the country, so there’s that." Granted, you’d known about his travel plans beforehand, but still.

Johnny pushes up on one elbow. "Really. Coffee shop creep?"

You scowl at him. "Don’t call him that."

He’d been nice enough. Paid for your drinks and museum tickets. Hung his jacket over your shoulders when you started shivering. Yes, he’d also ghosted you and gone to Iceland, but it wasn’t like you’d known him that well.

You’d only gotten your hopes up too soon, like you always did.

"That was your last date?" Johnny says, attention fully on you now. "Wasn’t that, like, four years ago?"

"Five," you mumble, your cheeks heating. Almost six, but who's counting? "So, no, I’m not doing Valentine’s Day."

Being single is much easier, anyway. You don’t have to consider anyone else in your life; don’t have to wonder about what they’re doing or whether their family liked you or if they’re planning a three month trip abroad … huh. Maybe that one’s still somewhat of a sore point, after all.

"Why haven’t you gone out with anyone in five years?"

"I don’t know, it just sorta happened. Not everyone goes on a date with a new person every week."

"Gross exaggeration."

"Not really," you say, nudging his side with your toes. "Do you ever see those girls a second time?"

"Sometimes. Hey, when did this become about me?" He catches your foot when you make to poke him again. His smile doesn’t waver, but his voice becomes gentler when he speaks again, a little more serious. "I thought you want a relationship."

You swallow.

"I do," you say quietly. "It’s just … it’s scary. I don’t like putting myself out there, and I’ve been so busy with everything else. I don’t have time to worry about small talk or the fact that at this point I don’t even know how to kiss anyone anymore."

It’s a vicious circle, really. Wanting something serious while also being terrified of anything serious. And suddenly, almost without noticing, years have gone by and nothing has changed at all.

Next to you, Johnny goes very still.

Honestly, it’s not the reaction you’ve expected. Deep down, you thought he’d laugh, tease you about the fact that it’s been nearly six years since you’ve gotten intimate with anyone. Sometimes, you want to laugh about it yourself, even though at the same time, you don’t find it funny at all.

But Johnny Storm has always had more layers than people give him credit for; even you, sometimes.

"Do you …" His voice cracks and he clears his throat, staring at the wall behind you. "Do you wanna practice?"

You blink, heat rushing to your cheeks before you even understand what he’s asking. "Practice what?"

"Kissing."

…

Maybe your brain short-circuited. There’s been some misfiring in your neurons, mistranslating his actual words, because there’s no way on earth he’s just suggested what you thought you heard.

"I—"

"It’d be one less thing for you to worry about, you know," he interrupts, talking quickly. You’ve never seen him look at you this intently. He seems to realize from your stunned expression, and a shadow of his earlier smile softens his face. "Don’t worry," he says. "I don’t bite unless you want me to."

Your mouth opens and closes a couple of times, your heart pounding so loud you can hear feel it behind your temples. "I don’t know how to respond to this."

"Say yes," Johnny says. "We can just try it out. We don’t have to bring it up again after today, it’ll just be … preparation, you know? Step number one of getting you back in the game."

It doesn’t feel like a game at all, this suggestion.

The craziest part about it, though, is that you are seriously considering it. You stare at him, his pretty blue eyes and his cocky grin, and the earnest expression behind his nonchalant façade. No matter your answer, he wouldn’t judge you.

Besides, it’s not like you’ve never thought about it.

You’ve caught glimpses of Johnny kissing other girls one too many times not to secretly wonder what it would be like. To feel his lips on yours, the heat of his body pressed against you, your hands gliding over the short buzz of his hair.

It’s longer now, maybe even long enough to tangle your fingers in and yank.

"Fine," you say quietly, and watch his smirk falter ever so slightly.

No matter his grand bravado, he clearly didn’t expect you to agree. It’s sweet, the way he scrambles to sit up properly, not even caring that his phone drops to the floor.

"Yeah?"

You swallow, nod. There’s an excited blush spreading on his cheeks that’s kind of endearing but also makes you want to melt into the ground. The way he’s staring at your lips makes you feel aware of every single cell in your body. You can’t remember ever being looked at like this.

"Do you want to …?"

"I don’t know, can you just—"

His hand cups your cheek, warm and steady. He’s always so warm.

"Close your eyes," he says lowly, and they fall shut of their own accord.

You don’t think you’re breathing as you wait, your hands fisted into your blanket as if you’re trying to hold on for dear life. Maybe you are.

For a very long moment, nothing happens, and you’re starting to feel like you’re being ridiculed after all. Like you’re going to open your eyes to Johnny laughing in your—

His lips brush against yours, just a single, careful touch, lingering, testing the waters. You don’t dare to move, or breathe, or do anything but feel. Your mind is racing, even though you cannot catch a single coherent thought.

The sheets rustle, the mattress dipping as Johnny breaks the kiss, adjusting his position. His thumb is still on your cheek, a gentle caress.

"You in there, darlin’?"

"Yeah." Your grip loosens a little.

"Okay." His breath fans over your lips. "You wanna try again?"

You’ve barely started nodding before he dives in again.

This time, you’re a little more ready for it, moving your mouth against his experimentally. He smells nice. You don’t know what to do with your hands.

He pulls away again and your heart tugs painfully, but he only tilts his head the other way and goes back to kissing you, still so soft, so languidly, like he has all the time in the world. He makes no rush of deepening the kiss, which is so like and unlike him at the same time.

It’s you, then, who leans in closer, your tongue slipping into his mouth, your brain going in and out of focus with each shuddering breath as he responds fervently. His fingers move down to your chin, angling it just a little. One of your hands lands on his shoulder, seeking balance.

He tastes sweet. Dangerously addictive.

This time, you’re the one to move back, your eyes flying open, feeling like his fire has set your entire body aflame. "How’d I do?"

Johnny blinks a couple of times, staring at your mouth, his pupils blown wide. You press your lips together.

"Not bad," he says hoarsely. "Maybe a little …"

"What?"

"Come here."

He catches your hands, putting them around his neck. It’s an awkward position, the rest of your body still angled away from his until he raises an eyebrow.

You realize there’s two options before you, and you’re not ready to have him on top of you in your own bed.

Instead, you straddle his thighs, looking over his shoulder to not have to meet his eye. His arms fall around you, settling at your lower back, pleasurable heat crawling up your spine.

"This okay?"

You kiss him again.

He makes a startled noise against your mouth, tightening his hold on you as his head drops back, granting you easier access. Your heart is pounding so wildly in your chest it’s making you dizzy.

It’s the most natural thing in the world, to kiss him like this. To scratch your fingernails against the nape of his neck until he makes that sound again. It vibrates against your tongue, and you melt against him, his body hot and solid against yours. Even when you come apart for air, he’s the only real thing in the world.

There’s nothing innocent about the way your mouths crash together now. He swallows your surprised moan like he’s been hungering for it, his hands bunching up your shirt at your back. You shudder against him when he grazes bare skin, each new touch burning in the most delicious manner. You’re weightless, intertwined, content to never again draw a single breath that hasn’t fallen from his lips first.

His tongue slides against yours, tasting your mouth in a way that borders on desperate. You press even closer to him, your fingers slipping into his hair in that way you’ve wanted to for longer than you’ve cared to admit even to yourself, hips involuntarily stuttering against his until he groans, responding in kind to each push and pull.

Finally, after what well may have been hours, you come apart, your forehead pressed to his, chests heaving. You don’t want to open your eyes; don’t want to return to the aftermath of what you’ve just done.

"Go out with me."

You sit back. Johnny’s arms are still draped around you, and there’s a mesmerized smile on his face as he looks at you. "What?"

"Go out with me. On a date." His voice is rough and strangely hopeful, and it makes your stomach flutter. "I promise no small talk."

"You’re not serious."

"About you?" His gaze drops to your lips again. "Always." His nose bumps against yours. "Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow?" You exhale shakily, dropping to a whisper. "That’s soon."

"Hmm."

"Maybe I should practice some more before then."

He smiles against your mouth.

thank you for reading my first full length johnny fic 😌 i'm sure it won't be the last. if you want to see more of my writing, check out my masterlist or follow @intrepidacious-fics for update notifications!!

[martiniluvr]

18+ minors dni

1,000 follower celebration!! I love u all wow. thank you for all your support, truly. be warned, this is long. enjoy 💫

warnings: nsfw alphabet for dick grayson and jason todd, so there’s a variety of things under the cut. please proceed with caution 🩷

★・・・★・・・★・・・★

A | Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

jason is very different after sex. it’s a major act of trust for him, so when it’s done, all he really wants is to be close to you. in other words: he’s a big cuddler. he’ll mumble some things into your skin as you run your fingers through his hair, and after, you usually end up ordering enough food to feed a small family, because that man can eat.

dick is a loverboy at heart. once the dust has settled and you’re both down from your highs, he’s doting on you—bringing you water, a snack, cleaning you up with a damp cloth—with doe eyes and a big old grin. always invites you to have a shower with him afterwards, and you always say yes, because his shoulder rubs are divine.

B | Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

unsurprisingly, jason has some…issues with his body from all the shit it’s been through. that being said, I think he intentionally trains his back and shoulders the most. it’s what makes him look as huge as he does. as for his favourite thing about you, jason todd is an ass man, argue with the wall. he likes something he can grab. hard.

dick grayson knows his ass is fat. he’s not shy about it. but his favourite body part is actually his arms, and how muscular they’ve become over the years. as for you, he loves your hips. they trigger something primal in him; the second you put on a fitted dress, he’s thinking about giving you his children.

C | Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

jason gets nasty. he’ll cum anywhere on your body just for the obscene sight, but he especially loves to cum in your mouth when he’s feeling that extra bit dominant. he doesn’t care if you spit or swallow, it turns him on either way—but, god, he’s proud when you open your mouth to show him it’s all gone.

let’s cut to the chase. dick wants to cum inside you over and over again. he hardly even contemplates doing it anywhere else; that man wants to fill you up and watch you drip. maybe it’s his out-of-control breeding kink, maybe it’s how intimate it feels—whatever the case may be, rest assured dick grayson loves a creampie.

D | Dirty secret (pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

voyeurism. jason likes to watch. it happened accidentally once when he walked in on you practicing some self-care, and he’s thought about it ever since. he enjoys the performance aspect of it; it’s a power play, watching you get yourself off, knowing he’s right there but refusing to help you.

this ties in with Q, but dick borders on exhibitionism sometimes. fucking you in his car, in the bathroom at a charity event, or in a changing room—anywhere you might get caught, really—god, it gets him going. it’s the daredevil in him, constantly yearning to test the limits of what he can do.

E | Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

I think jason had very limited to no experience before his death, and most of what knows today he learned by being with you. ever the fast learner, though, he sure as shit knows what he’s doing now. I think he’s very in-tune with your body and his needs, and it shows in the way he fucks you.

we have to face facts here. dick definitely got around before committing to a serious relationship. despite that, I think he knows what he’s doing thanks to his impeccable observational skills; sometimes you think he knows your body better than you do (but don’t tell him that; it goes straight to his head).

F | Favorite position (this goes without saying)

jason is a sucker for good old-fashioned doggy style, of course, but fuck, does he adore the prone bone position. trapping you under his body, hitting you deep with each thrust, and he gets to watch your ass jiggle at every movement? it borders on religious ecstasy for him.

dick goes feral—feral—for the mating press position. it’s erotic, carnal, and raw, and that’s exactly what he wants when he’s fucking you. he’s also partial to cowgirl, especially when he can tell you want to take control. the view it offers him is enough to have him whining underneath you for more.

G | Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

jason is more on the serious side; sex with him, intense as it may be, is still a big act of vulnerability on his part, so he doesn’t treat it lightly. he will, however, crack a warm smile on those occasions when you make love in the small hours of the morning, when he thinks you can’t see his face clearly.

dick is a tease, and sex with him is fun. he likes to flirt with you while he bends you into compromising positions, and he gets very cocky when you cum. he can’t help but make little quips after the fact, either; “something wrong with your leg, baby?” as your limbs twitch and tremble from your orgasm. jerk.

H | Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

in keeping with his rugged exterior, jason is only doing what he needs to in order to keep things manageable and convenient. he is not dedicating hours to manscaping. much to your elation, that means he keeps his happy trail intact.

dick is a little more meticulous in his grooming, being the “pretty boy” that he is. he prefers keeping himself neatly trimmed, partly to ensure more comfort in his nightwing suit—he’s learned the hard way that the pornstar look is a one-way ticket to chafing when you’re jumping off of buildings.

I | Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

jason really restrains himself from being outwardly intimate. he finds it hard to be that vulnerable, and while he loves the passion between you when you fuck, he’s only really able to tap into the romantic aspect if he’s wholly at ease. that’s not to say it never happens! it definitely does, just give him time.

he may be cocky and unserious when he’s fucking you, but sex with dick is always very openly intimate. he sees the beauty and romance in what you do together, and it’s truly special to him that he gets to witness you like this. sex is absolutely one of the ways he expresses his love and admiration for you.

J | Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

jason only really masturbates when he’s away from you on a mission, and needs to take the edge off. it’s less interesting without you, so he wants it done quick. he imagines you touching yourself as he does it—legs wide and eyes hazy—and that gets him to his peak extremely efficiently.

dick likes to edge himself. I said what I said. he’s thinking about how he’d much rather save his load for your pretty cunt, so he’s bucking his hips and screwing his eyes shut as he forces himself to stop right before his climax, reminding himself how good it’ll feel when he gets to fill you up.

K | Kink (one or more of their kinks)

overstimulation is jason’s go-to; he gets off on dragging orgasm after orgasm out of you until you’re hardly able to speak. he also loves forced eye contact, especially when you can barely keep your eyes open. oh, and he has a massive size kink. when you’re as huge as he is, everyone is small by comparison, and he likes how big you make him feel.

say it with me. dick grayson has a breeding kink. the visual aspect of cumming inside you is enough to drive him crazy, but the thought of getting you pregnant…now that makes him rabid. face-sitting is another big one; any variation of pussy-eating drives him wild, but having you sit on his face is his favourite way to do it.

L | Location (favorite places to do the do)

if you’re at home, anywhere is fair game to jason. he’s fucking you in the kitchen, in the bedroom, on the sofa, against the wall, in the office—anywhere. outside of home, he’s more restrictive, but he has thought about fucking you in the batmobile on the many occasions he’s stolen it.

the bedroom is definitely dick’s favourite place to fuck you; aside from making things feel more romantic, he wants you to be comfortable as he’s bending you into crazy positions. he also loves a shower quickie and car sex, impractical though they may be. don’t worry, he’s an acrobat. it’ll work.

M | Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

is it crazy to say that jason gets turned on when you argue? because he does. a moderate disagreement where you’re getting huffy with him is a surefire way to get bent over the sofa. oh, and if he feels even a little jealousy creeping over him, you’re in for a ride. also, if you nestle into him during the night, you’ll be contending with his hard cock pressed against your lower back until one of you caves.

dick is whipped. whatever you’re doing can get him going. cooking, reading, wearing his clothes—he loves everything you do. but, he’s particularly turned on whenever you dress up for a special occasion. it can be a little inconvenient when you’re running late for an event and he’s groping you over your gown in the limo, but how can you refuse those blue eyes?

N | No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

jason would be very resistant to anything that puts him in a submissive role (this goes for ak!jason too). this includes both sex acts and the use of props/toys that take control away from him; he’s just not into it. he’d also refuse any kind of roleplay, saying it’s unnecessary. he’s a pragmatic guy.

I think dick would really dislike the idea of hurting you. he’s not opposed to spanking, and he’ll even engage in some light breath play (ahem, headlock, anyone?), but he would never take it any further than that. if he bruised you through anything other than hickies, he’d be sick with guilt.

O | Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

it should come as no surprise that jason loves receiving head. there are few sights as enticing as watching you take his cock in your mouth while he instructs you to keep your eyes on him. he’s also very skilled in returning the favour, and his preference is eating you from the back so he can see your pretty ass move each time you squirm.

you know my stance on this. dick is a munch. he’s eating pussy like it’s his last meal before the end of the world, and he’s doing it for him. needless to say, he’s fucking good at it. receiving head is quite literally the last thing on his mind. that being said, when he does remember to let you reciprocate, all he can think about is how pretty you look while doing it.

P | Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

jason can get pretty rough, and he likes to fuck you hard, but he knows how much you can take. sex for him is partially an emotional release. but, he’s good at alternating between destroying you one day and being gentle the next; despite his tough facade, jay enjoys soft, passionate sex as much—if not more—than you do.

dick is kind of a hedonist; once he starts feeling pleasure, he doesn’t want it to end—especially when you start feeling it too. he’s happy to give you fast and rough if it’s what you want, but his preference is sloppy, erotic fucking. the messier you get, the better. although, if he’s got you in a mating press, the roughness seeps back in quickly.

Q | Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

while he’ll never say no to a quickie, jason prefers to take his time with you. once he starts, he finds it hard to stop, and he loves to see how much you can take from him before you’re spent. quickies are sporadic with him; he prefers to enjoy your body at his pace.

if he gets the chance to fuck you—hell, even just tease you—dick is going to take it. he loves the thrill and the sense of urgency that comes with quickies. whether it’s a hookup in his car or an impromptu blowjob when he’s supposed to be on patrol, his eyes are lighting up like it’s christmas.

R | Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

jason is not a risk-taker. he needs time to warm to any kind of experimentation, but he’s more likely to try things on you than on himself, like using light restraints on you or dabbling in sensory play. as long as he feels he has some control.

dick is a different story. he’s willing to try most things at least once, and he’s able to laugh it off if something goes south. he’s not opposed to switching (ha) things up and giving you the lead, either; he likes a woman in charge.

S | Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

maybe it’s his extensive training, maybe it’s just who he is; whatever the case may be, jason can go for a long time. but, it’s usually just one round that he draws out so he can really work you to your limit.

dick can handle multiple rounds if you give him time. his recovery consists of burying his face between your legs until he’s ready to go again, which doesn’t take very long once you start convulsing against his tongue.

T | Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

jason wouldn’t even think to use sex toys unless you brought it up, but he’d be open to using them on you if you asked. he’s quick to see the potential in your little pink vibrator when he holds it against your clit while he fucks you, noticing how much easier it is to overstimulate you this way.

ever the experimentalist, dick isn’t opposed to trying out toys in the bedroom. in fact, he’s the one who would show up with fuzzy blue handcuffs (“I got them in my colour!”) to restrain your hands behind your back, so he can devour your cunt without interference from you.

U | Unfair (how much they like to tease)

he’d like to tease you more, but jason doesn’t really have the restraint for it. as soon as you’re splayed out in front of him, he wants to take you. when he does tease, though, he likes to touch you everywhere but where you need him most, until you’re begging for him to make you feel good. then, he likes to make you regret it—over and over again.

dick is the world’s biggest tease, and you can look that up. he’s got you grinding on his lap, making out with you until you’re panting, only to say he needs to do some work as he stands up with a smirk. and when he finally gets you naked, he makes you tell him what you need while his fingers hover over your aching pussy, never reaching you.

V | Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

jason isn’t very loud at all, but the sounds he does make range from grunts and groans to the occasional low moan if you tug at the hair on the nape of his neck. he’s a big dirty talker, and he likes to get up in your ear to do it, so he knows you’re listening. he notices the way you shiver at his gravelly voice, and it drives him crazy.

dick is far less concerned about being quiet. he’s moaning, swearing, telling you how pretty you are, even occasionally whining, and he’s not worried about what your neighbours think—in fact, he’s making sure you’re just as vocal as he is, insisting you tell him how you feel. he’s also expressive when he cums, especially when he does it inside you.

W | Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

I know this is controversial, but jason would never agree to a threesome. this man is possessive. the mere thought of seeing someone else touch you in front of him is enough to make him see red, so no—he’d end up committing murder (not that it’s a far leap for him on a good day).

dick has a thing for watching you work out, especially when you’re doing yoga in the living room in those skin-tight pants. watching the way your limbs elongate and contract as you bend and stretch does things to him, but he never interrupts; the images stay in his mind for those long missions.

X | X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

jason is a behemoth of a man all over. and I do mean all over. he’s packing. an easy 8 inches (slightly more), thick, with a slight upwards curve and a prominent vein from the base to the tip—which is a mauvy pink, by the way. you’re still shocked you’re able to take him, and he was too the first time.

‘prettiest man alive also has a pretty cock’ would be dick’s headline. just over 6 inches, with enough girth to make you feel full, and a rosy pink tip that matches his lips…you could honestly just stare at it if he’d let you (and he probably would). he fits you like a glove every single time.

Y | Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

jason’s sex drive is pretty consistent; it’s always simmering a little ways below the surface. he’s able to compartmentalise it when he has to, but sex doubles as a form of stress-relief for him, so it happens…often.

dick has an incredibly high sex drive. like jason, he can reel it in when needed, but if it were up to him, you’d fuck every single day, twice even. I also truly believe that he’s regularly plagued by morning wood.

Z | Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

he’s going to make sure you’re comfortable and taken care of, but the truth is jason could probably pass out in your arms about 10 minutes after you’re done. take it as a sign of how safe he feels with you as he’s snoring softly into your neck.

he’s definitely tired after sex, but dick is waiting until he notices you dozing off before he closes his eyes. once he’s out, though, good luck waking him up again without an air horn. he’s going to need his full eight hours to recharge.

[lymtw]

"Can I try it?"

Toji's voice snaps you out of the heavy focus you have on your reflection as you apply your lip gloss. You twist the cap back on the plastic tube that presents its Rosé colored contents and turn to look at him. "Hm? You want some?" You ask, extending it towards him.

He shakes his head and pushes it back towards you, stepping closer. "Looks better on you, doll. This another flavored one?" He asks, eyeing the sparkling prominence of your lips. You nod, a giddy smile on your face, which only serves to attract his attention to the feature more.

"It's apple flavored," you chirp.

"Ah. You look really pretty, mama," he says, loving the way your face glows with his compliment. You smile before turning back to look in the mirror. "Hold it." His hand goes to your arm. "Let me look at you a little longer."

"Give me a second. I feel like it's messed up," you say, going into one of your vanity's drawers, where you keep your makeup wipes.

Toji tugs on the back of your shirt, trying to grab your attention. "Put away the wipes and come here. If there's something there, i'll get it."

You sigh, dramatically, closing the drawer before simply turning to look at him, annoyance riddled on your face, because you can feel the excess lip gloss on your skin.

His eyes trail along the area of your mouth, and a grin surfaces on his face when he spots the small, glossy splotch, just below your lips.

"You look silly," he teases, entirely fascinated by the pretty, barely messy sight.

"Thanks," you respond, sarcastically, to which he hums, a wordless, yet, equally sarcastic 'you're welcome'. "You didn't mention it when you first looked at me. A little rude, don't you think?"

His hand reaches for your waist and he pulls you closer to him. Once you're right in front of him, he wraps his arm around your lower back and keeps you pressed flush against him, so he can look down and stare on at your lips.

"Honestly, I didn't even notice until you mentioned it."

You know better than to swoon over the sound of his voice and that longing gaze he has set on you.

"You always say that. It's like you want me to walk around looking like a mess." You crane your neck to look at your vanity, mentally set on wiping the gloss off yourself, because Toji is just staring at the smear.

He's trying not to laugh at how grumpy you are about this. "Ma-" he pauses, a chuckle escaping him. "Just-" He blocks your view of anything other than him. If you turn your head, he follows. "Doll, let me get it for you."

You roll your eyes and begrudgingly look at him, again. "If you're gonna do it, do it, already. This takes a maximum of three seconds, normally."

"Alright, alright. Stop turning away from me," he says, scarred lips still quirked up with amusement. You stand still for him, watching as he brings a hand up to cup your jaw. The gentleness of his touch and the intimate proximity has your heart racing. That and he's taking forever, just staring at your lips. It's a simple swipe of his thumb, what could possibly be taking him so long?

He leans in and juts out his tongue, dragging the tip of it beneath your bottom lip to get the sweet, artificial apple flavor off.

"Ew, Toji!" You snicker, turning away with a laugh. Your hand flies to his chest, creating almost nonexistent distance between you and him.

"What are you saying 'ew' for?" He playfully chides, clicking his tongue. "Face me. Stop moving." You don't even have a chance to turn your head, before he's doing it for you, thick fingers pressing into your jaw to get you to look at him. "You didn't even let me get all of it. Made me smudge it even more, instead."

He's lying. Not about not getting all of it, but about the smudging part. There's barely any lip gloss outside of your lips, anymore. It's the smallest speck, but he'll make it seem like it's messier, just so that he can keep you in front of him for longer, while getting to taste the sweetness of your lips.

"Okay, then get it off. Not with your tongue again. I'll laugh, and this will take much longer than it already is."

"Fine." He smirks, watching the twitch in the corners of your lips as you wait in anticipation for his next move. He leans in, again, and you let out a huff and roll your eyes expecting his tongue, only to be surprised by his lips pressing against the small streak of that sweet, misplaced product on your skin. His quick "cleansing" kisses move up to the corner of your lips and then go higher, before moving along your cupid's bow. Once he's in the middle, he starts going back down, lower and lower until he ends up centering his lips with yours, giving you a proper kiss. It doesn't end with just one kiss. He's picking up every bit of the tacky product on your lips, now, ignoring the fact that he was only supposed to get the excess product. His hands go to your waist, keeping you firmly against him as he carries on with the kisses. He swipes his tongue over your lips, completely clearing them of any sweetness, the gesture causing you to laugh between kisses.

When the supposed tidying came to an end, your lips were wet and shiny, but without a trace of the sweet product that was smothered on them before. Toji watches your flustered expression, mischief lingering in his gaze at your speechlessness.

"It really does taste like apples," he says, earning a deadpan expression from you.

"You overdid it. It's all gone, now." It's hard to stay serious when you see him licking the remnants off his lips. You can see the gears turning in his head, like he's preparing to diffuse your faux irritation.

"No, it's not. You still have some," he says, looking behind you at the practically full tube of lipgloss.

"I can't feel or taste it on my lips, anymore, Toji. What do you mean I still have some?" You say, clearly not thinking the same thing as him.

He takes your hand and drags you over to your vanity. "Put some more on," he says, picking the bright colored tube up and putting it directly in your hand. "Wanna do it, again."

"Toji-" you start, unable to hold in your laugh when you see the random specks of glitter that remain stuck to his lips.

He grins at your the sound of your laughter, before going on to defend himself. "I asked if I could try it, and you offered, so..." He prolongs the word for a couple seconds, unable to find the ending to his sentence.

"So, what?" You prompt, your smile lingering.

"So, I got it indirectly." He smirks. Out of impatience, he takes the tube out of your hand and twists the cap off, before offering it to you, again. "Now, put some more on."

"You're just gonna wipe it off," you argue, shaking your head.

"Only if you mess it up. I can do it for you, if you want. I'm very precise."

He's so eager to do this, that you can't help but sigh and give in. "Fine. You don't have to use so much of it, though. You're precise, but you've also got a heavy hand."

"Yeah, I do," he says, a smug grin on his face. You playfully smack his chest, feeling somewhat disappointed in yourself when your laugh slips out at the dirty innuendo.

You stand still, allowing Toji to take your chin between his fingers with one hand, while the other squeezes the tube and brings the lipgloss applicator closer. It makes contact with your lips and he starts spreading it around, evenly. His attention flits between your lips and your gaze, which isn't on him, because having him examine you so closely will lure your giggles out if you focus too hard on it. Toji can see color blooming on your cheeks and feel your skin heating beneath his fingers, so he decides to push it even more.

"This color looks really good on you, doll. One of my favorites. So pretty," he mumbles, as he continues to layer your lips with even more sweetness, definitely more than the necessary amount. You can feel the thickness being dragged back and forth, repeatedly. "You know you can kiss me whenever you want, but if you're wearing this, i'll lean in first, every time. I'll even chase you if I have to." His voice is smooth, like he's hypnotized by how stunning you look while wearing something so simple to apply.

You laugh, unable to contain it any longer, then suddenly, you feel the gloss drag out of your lip line, again.

"Aw, damn. You made me mess up." He picks the cap up off the vanity and covers your lipgloss. You mentally facepalm, and your eyes lid when you look at Toji, who doesn't look the least bit upset about you ruining his masterpiece. "Don't worry, baby. I can clean it up for you."

[clawsdevour]

˳ . *࿔ kenma nsfw hcs

wc: 0.5k content warning: post-time skip, smut , kenma x reader, not proofread

｡　˚◌ ༊..

-Kenma, who can easily get riled up/aroused thinking of new ways to stimulate you. he could be chatting with his viewers, maybe reading a few questionable comments, or even one where they asked about you. he'd think of you but in another setting... perhaps an intimate one where only he would know that side of you and which points you like to be pressed upon.

-Kenma wouldn't be much of a talker since his eyes do the talking for him. but, he would definitely joke around in a sexual way that makes you gush out more of your essence. he doesn't even know, but he's basically teasing you with every word and every stroke laid upon your body that makes you shiver and have goosebumps. his eye contact is bold and loud, it makes you feel like you need to cover up which is never a choice when he's on top.

-Kenma enjoys feeling dominant until he's physically starting to wear down. he'd love being in command, making you reach down to rub your little overstimulated clit, telling you to rub faster, rub harder, add a finger or two in while his eyes are fixated on your every movement. it just satisfies him, the way you obey like those on nekoma.

-Kenma definitely likes to play around, seeing if there's anything new that gets you soaked. he's always going to end up edging you so hard you'd scream out his names and for him to let you cum on his fingers. he'd always end up saying not yet, or just a little longer until your heart is beating out of your chest and you can't breathe from holding it in.

-Kenma would know and memorize all of your most stimulating points. when he's buried deep inside you, he's definitely thrusting around to find those spots. every time he finds it, Kenma's going to constantly and repeatedly hit them to make you twitch and gasp in satisfaction. hearing you cry in pleasure just simply completes him, like winning a hard boss battle.

-Kenma is definitely spiraling whenever he sees you get on your knees with your hands pulling your hair back. he just simply can't control what lays between his legs as it seems to register the excitement before him. during your blowjobs and handies, kenma would for sure be gripping onto the bed sheets or have his head hung all the way back while he's completely consumed with pleasure.

-Kenma goes crazy when you're riding him. doesn't matter if it's cowgirl or from the back, or in a hugging position. Kenma is simply out of control. you're the one who's in control as he feels completely weak. he feels like he could explode trying to hold back from busting a load inside you, he could faint.

-Kenma would miss one of his streams to make sure your needs are completely satisfied. overall, he could always do multiple streams a day.. on the other hand, he's thinking about what if he were streaming? wouldn't that just turn him on even more, the thought of people just watching to see him and his partner making love? course, he would never do that, but the thought of it will probably strike him.

-Kenma, who gets more affectionate after he cums. you're both laying on each other in the end, he's giving you sloppy kisses on your body until it grabs your attention. when you're sleeping, he's clinging onto you. skin on skin, he'd definitely have a hand around you, and the other fondling your chest with a tight grip.

-Kenma would be really shy at first to cum in front of you, but he would for sure get more used to just releasing his load. kenma would definitely whimper and groan when he gets close, or it's just unbearable too good. he finds it enjoyable seeing you take it deep inside, or rather in your mouth. Kenma also like the sight of his essence dripping off of your body that's covered by a sheen layer of sweat.

masterlist here

[vanilleandclove]

carried away; jack abbot x f!trauma surgeon!reader 

fourth of july always has always dampened a stain on your relationship, for the betterment of it, it helps you both understand each other a little bit differently.

warnings: ptsd episode. mass casualty event (mce), pregnancy & pregnancy issues, samira deserves a boy/girlfriend outside of the ed THE GIRL NEEDS NORMALITY AND CARE, aggressive patients, a damn bomb, whole lotta robby yap, langdon goes to rehab but is that really a warning, jack is halfway codependent (man has trauma), there will be a fluffy chapter maybe word count: 4.2k notes: had to search up bizarre stories from the emergency room & ask my immigrant, can do no wrong, dad his crazy stories (radiologist in the emergency department), only for him to ask if i was going to give up film school. if you're unfamilar with emergency depts in america, fourth of july is the peak holiday for injurys and chaos, happy summer for me.

prev - next

“Hey can I use you during the briefing, the Fourth is always a hectic day here, got some new faces and these kids aren’t familiar with how we run things during the summer” Robby asked you as you walked out of the lounge, seeing you lightly waddle as you needed to pee.

“Robby, these kids survived Pitfest- they can handle an independence day- but, sure, let me just handle this real quick” you grunted, feeling your bladder overwhelming full. This time around the life growing inside of you decided to fill and harass your bladder rather than morning sickness. Week 13, you couldn’t wait to get to at least the second trimester. 

You and Jack decided to tell Dana, Bridget, Robby, and Heather. They were the only ones allowed to know, even though it killed Jack to not tell his mom, slowly hurt you to not tell your sister or mom. Heather was ready to throw you a baby shower by the first day, Dana already bought clothes for your little bean. But Jack, Jack was a nervous wreck. Monitoring you closely while you slept and ate, helped you shower as if it was strenuous. He loved seeing your belly grow as small as it did from week 1 to 13. It felt like a year, to him it felt like time slowed just to spare him any worries. 

From babe; 

How’s work? Anything yet? I just fully clocked in lmao, you coming in today? Probably gonna get called in you know how it is every year Not really, this is the first time we didn’t go on vacation Dr. Abbot  Way too early for the teasing honey. I’ll pick you up if I don’t get called in. I love you and bug. We love you too- would love you more if I got lucky tonight. Depends on if you’re a good girl or not doesn’t it?

The most intimate time you’ve both had in 5 weeks was him giving you a foot rub, other than that nothing. You were either too tired and slept in- the pregnancy pillow he got you works wonders, woke up in the middle of the night with indigestion, or you put the lingerie on and then got emotional seeing him- sometimes all the three. You missed your fiancé more than anything.

Upon exiting the bathroom there was Robby grilling into everybody, “Doctor L/n will give you the rundown on how things go surgical wise on today”. 

“Surgery is usually bombarded- it’s a peak day for the entire ED, night shift comes and helps out when they phase in about two to three hours earlier” you announced, you ran this shit as if it were the Navy- courtesy of your man back at home who taught you how his C.O.s talked to him, “We deal with the stroke & heart related issues- I get the more severe cases therefore I am not always going to be down here”. 

You made your way to the board, “Trauma gets a designated 4 operating rooms today, we have three surgeons on call, all trained under me or my predecessor Doctor Greene- bless our lucky asses, Greene comes in to help every Fourth of July” looking directly into everyone’s eyes, Jack’s habit directly rubbed off on you, “Worst we’ve had was Fourth of July 2022, I was up a near 24 hours. We’ve had someone be given a bomb instead of an illegal firework- didn’t detonate, had to call the bomb squad when we were in the OR”.

“20 year old male, Mark Coleman, mom said he bought fireworks in Texas last week only for the fireworks to be an actual bomb- didn’t detonate in the field, bomb squad is already on the way” The EMT ran over to you keeping his voice lowered in order to not panic the crowd, supplying oxygen from the kids intubation, you nodded and ran over to change your gloves as you saw Jack in a woman’s chest cavity trying to stimulate her heart.

“What do you got?” he asked, thinking it would be more interesting, only to be given a concerned and almost scared look from you, “Doctor Shen, take over” John didn’t hesitate to replace Abbot, “Stimulate for another three, if no response send her up with Walsh and Greene”.

He discarded his gloves and placed a hand on your elbow to follow you to Mark, “Have bomb squad come in through the helipad, we can’t afford freaking out anyone down here, we have to operate on the west surgical wing anyway” you told Dana as she nodded.

“Wait, you're operating?” Jack questioned.

“Bomb squad’s going to be in there with me the entire time, I’m the only surgeon available and willing” you looked into his eyes almost as if you were being stern and for your selfish reasons of looking at him, “This is my department Doctor Abbot, don’t question my job, I won’t question yours”.

“I will question it if you’re putting yourself in immediate danger” he told you, searching for the exact feeling you were hiding, fear. 

“It’s my job Jack” you whispered to him before walking off. 

It was a three hour surgery with no one other than your surgical team and the bomb squad on the floor, Greene came in to help if something were to happen to you. Truth was Jack yelled at him over the phone when he told him that you “had it under control”- which you did, Jack barely built up the courage to open up about his war PTSD since he just started going to therapy, you weren’t exactly someone he wanted to handle a bomb extraction. 

When you went back down, he could breathe again, you took your losses as Mark may not be able to speak again as the bomb landed just in the right spot to strain his larynx. 

“There are also a lot of worried parents with children who are the spawns of satan. I had a mom that same year scream in both mine and Doctor Mohan’s face about her son falling into their active fire pit with soot all over his body, minor burns, earned a beautiful punch in the chest” you told them, seeing the smile on Samira’s face as she recalled the memory on the first year of her residency.

“I don’t give a fuck! He is screaming, just take him!” she screamed at you and Samira as you did the exam while explaining to Samira in passing.

“Ma’am there are no burns on your son, enough for it to be surgical or an emergency, we are currently swamped here. We are going to give you three cold compresses and some cream to help, only use Tylenol to control the pain because NSAIDs can be dangerous if he hit his head while falling in” you told her, giving her son a pat on the back as he shook from the bass of her voice as she screamed. 

“You fucking bitch, I pay your fucking wages through all of those fuckass taxes just for you to dismiss my fucking son?”.

You formed a barrier between you and her, making sure Samira wouldn’t be spat on or hit if the mom became even more aggressive.

“Ma’am I can assure you, you do not pay my wage or my coworkers wage, now please take your leave before I have security come and hold you in front of your son- now would you prefer that or the care we just gave you to handle this at home?” you responded, she got in your face only to take a step back and aim directly for your chest, Samira swore she heard a light crack before she screamed for security.

You were fine, winded, but fine none of the less. Jack spent the whole night back at your home kissing the middle of your chest as it began to bruise. You insisted it was because it gave him free reign to play with and admire your tits.

“It’s a hectic day for everyone, best advice I can give to you is phase your main patient load out of here by 4 or 5 pm, firework shows start around that time, by 8 pm you’re hopefully already home and night shift is here, we get all the road accidents here” you told them, “Just like Pitfest, if you cannot find Doctor Robinavitch, Doctor Collins, Doctor Abbot, or myself, the next level of command is to get approval from Doctor Mohan or- Doctor Langdon. Robby, Abbot, and I run things down here, we’ve been doing this together for the past 6 years, today is just one of those days that gets convoluted, now eat and hydrate, good luck”. 

When Frank got back from rehab, Abbot was impressed he put in the work. Heather and you knew he was going to be given his position back immediately and by May Heather had finally completed her residency program- Frank having to make up for the time lost. 

You all had a calm morning, taking a half day to resort for an oncall schedule. By 4 pm you were at home, resting on the couch as Jack made you the lunch you didn’t have time for at work. 

“So far nothing, might just be a quiet Fourth of July” you shouted at him from the living room. 

“Some of my old buddies from the VA invited us down to grill with them at 6, I told them maybe- depends on my wife” Jack said as he brought your food to you on a tray.

“Baby all of them are your age, so old?” you joked, giving him a kiss as he set down your food on the coffee table, “Also wife, Mrs. Abbot hasn’t even been engraved on my social security or Facebook”. 

“Last time I checked you have an Abbot in you”. 

“Unfortunately not in bed” you teased yet again. 

“Eat. Y’Might just pass out if I ravage you before eating” with every dirty joke you gave, Jack’s stoicism would top it. Made for good laughs over the years. Jack made you pass out once from overstimulation, scared the shit out of him, you found it quite sexy that made you feel that good- ever since then, he makes sure you’re hydrated.

You and him were no strangers to calmness in the cusp of afternoons to evenings, especially since you became pregnant, all you both wanted were quiet times like these. By 5:30, you both had showered and got ready for the barbecue Jack promised to attend. Only before you both got the call from Robby and Gloria to come in as there was a shooting at the Fourth of July firework show. Normally, you admired your fiancés punctuality, but he stood there pondering while staring into your soul. 

“You’re going?”.

“It’s a MCE, of course I’m going” you responded, grabbing your spare scrubs you kept hung up and sneakers, you were on your feet all day.

The reality of it was Jack was worried about another miscarriage, worried about you overworking yourself. He put limits where he knew you misconstrued them. 

“You’re being reckless” he blurted out as you packed your bag, you froze from the words that left his mouth, “I’m sorry honey but-“.

You swallowed the heartbreak that came with your fiancé questioning if you had the strength to get through this while pregnant. Swallowed the doubt that he put on you because he was worried, the doubt that only shined to you where he thought you couldn’t do your job while pregnant. The same doubt men put other women through because they think it’s not their place or they don’t belong. 

“We’ll talk about this later” you told him, shrugging him off as you walked away. Jack knew your limits under the guise of understanding you, though as much as it prided you both it had its repercussions such as right now. 

The car ride was quiet and tense, the air thick and both of your throats dry. You wouldn’t argue before work, everything stayed at home. As much as you knew where  his concern came from, you knew if something were to happen, he’d silently blame you in the deepest part of him even if his body rejected that fact. 

You took your leave ahead of Jack, feeling the light jerks of your stomach, there’s a version of you and Jack and you’re carrying it. You felt the weight of your chest as your breasts were sore from the bra and hormones. You saw both Javadi and Langdon outside as they handled triage, giving them the best of luck.

“What happened?” you asked Dana at her desk.

“Shooting at the park, we’re expecting 67 patients in the ambulances, maybe more depending on transport. You okay honey?” she questioned, seeing the tiredness in your eyes. 

“Yeah, some jerks but at least bean is moving” you lowered your voice. Normally, you wouldn’t feel your baby moving until a few more weeks, with your hyper vigilance and rotations to OB during residency, you knew the movement, the little soft jerks. You also knew you couldn’t wait for your womb to move away from your bladder and for the light aches of your hips to stop. “No sign of Greene? He never misses a year”.

Dana shrugged as she called her family, everyone around you called their loved ones as you just shrugged yours off. When Jack came in, it was your instinct to lean into his close proximity, your own way of telling him “I love you” while on the clock. His breath against the skin of your neck and the squeeze he gave your hand, it was going to be a long night. 

“Okay, this is not the first MCE you all have gone through, I hope we all are familiar with the protocol for tonight. Doctor Abbot, Shen, Collins, and myself are going to stay down here at all times. Your number one determinant for surgical cases will go to Doctor L/n, can’t find her? Go to Walsh, we have three fellows courtesy of Doctor L/n on standby in the ORs, send your patients up immediately, they know you’re coming” Robby announced, “SWAT and the police haven’t identified a shooter therefore they will be collecting any and all fragments of evidence taken from patients, upon extraction give it to an attending. Unfortunately, we are the only trauma center nearby, we are putting ourselves at risk for the shooter to arrive here”. 

Jack felt your body tense from behind him, his knuckles finding their way to rolling against your spine to ease tension. You waited a few seconds before speaking up. 

“Any and all cardio, neuro, pediatric, and advanced traumas go to me. Lower grade trauma, general, ophthalmic, and ortho will be split between Garcia and Walsh. Nipples to navel is no-man’s land if you for any reason believe your patient cannot get the most adequate standard of care for the situation, send them to surgery immediately” you told all of them, “If I am not available or are already in an OR, I can work on up to three patients per OR, I’ve done it before, I can do it again”. 

“You’re authorized for neuro?” Whitaker and Santos both questioned you, slowly being tempted to swap to surgery. 

“Neurosurgeons are hard to come by, no one ever wants to hire more because of pay grade. Therefore everyone else has to pick up the slack” you answered, “Doctor Rios is our attending Neurosurgeon, he taught me everything I need to know”. 

“Doctor Mohan and McKay, you’ll be with me and Walsh” you told both of them, “It’s going to be a long night”.

After dismissal you heard the distant sirens from the ambulances, giving Jack enough time to check up on you. 

“He’ll come by, he never misses a Fourth” Jack reassured you as you rapidly typed on your phone to Greene’s wife.

“His daughter’s family was over there, pretty sure they all went” you told him, shaking your head slightly before putting your phone away, “You sure you’re ready for this?”.

“Nothing we haven’t seen”. 

You looked at him once more, you saw the apprehension. Last Fourth of July he worked, a firework went off in the halls and sent him into a frenzy the rest of the night. You were a senior resident, just before you and Jack decided to finally take things seriously. 

“Doctor Abbot we ran out of chest tubes Princess told me-“ you walked into a room filled with blood all over the floor and no one else but Jack who was sunk down to the floor, prosthetic to the side of him. “Jack?”.

He remained quiet as he picked at his cuticles, blood trickling from his hand, there was a deep gash in the palm of his hand, blood flowing more as he flexed his hand. 

“Jack” you took a step closer just before he fixed his eyes on you, bloodshot and pupils blown. His hair was caked in blood, “Baby let me stitch-“.

“No” he spoke up, eyes never leaving yours. Luckily, it was cooled down outside, nothing too serious to begin with minus the car collisions that sent three families here. Jack had worked on one of the moms, the mom whose blood now coated the floor and him. “I couldn’t save him,” he muttered.

Your eyebrows furrowed, taking a look at the leftover chart to see if the mom was accidentally misplaced. Only to realize Jack wasn’t thinking coherently, “Baby, the Jamison’s mom is with Greene. She’s okay, he does thank you for stabilizing her”. 

“I couldn’t save him” a sob wrecked through his throat. You took your chances and got down on your knees, the blood on the floor staining your scrubs, making yourself be at eye level to him. 

You cautiously snapped your sterile gloves off to cup his face with your hands, only after you placed his spare hand on your chest where your heart was beating- erratically from the subsiding adrenaline. The blood from his hand coated your scrubs.

“Breathe with and repeat after me” you instructed, “Your name is Jack Abbot, you are currently in Pittsburgh as an attending emergency physician, in a trauma room with Y/n”.

He lightly breathed, his breath shuddered as he opened his mouth, “My name is Jack Abbot. I am currently in Pittsburgh and an attending emergency physician, in trauma room 3 with Y/n L/n”. 

“I am not overseas in war”. 

“I am not overseas in war”.

He calmed down as you tested it another three times. Upon the third he got up and let you clean and dress his gash. “What are you thinking?” you asked, silently giving him stitches. 

“I’m lucky to be with you”.

You smiled lightly, “You’re lucky it wasn’t Langdon who came in” chortling quietly, “three more stitches and you should be good cowboy”. 

“70 year old male, multiple GSWs to the chest, wife helped stabilize him on the field”.

“Mrs. Greene?” you called out as you walked away from Jack. 

Doctor Peter Greene was the 70 year old male with the 7 gunshot wounds to his chest. His wife, Lisa, was an anesthesiologist up until last year, she was barely 65.

“Oh my god Y/n” she sobbed before engulfing you into a hug, “Please help him” you nodded as you pulled away running off to the trauma bay they held him.

“Send him to the OR now, Samira you’re scrubbing in with me” you directed, “Cassie, Lisa Greene is out there, she’s bleeding from her legs I think she was shot can you check up on her?” both the girls nodded as you wheeled Greene to the elevator.

“Are you sure you want me to scrub in?” Samira asked as you reached the elevator, it was just you two- well three. 

“Samira, I’m pregnant” you confessed as the elevator doors closed on the two of you, “I’ve already miscarried once, I don’t plan on that again, I’m hoping his stubborn ass pulls through so my baby isn’t distressed from me being stressed, you being there is more than enough”. 

She looked stunned from the confession, smiling in the light of the situation, “Do you want me to get an OB down after just to see where things are?”.

“I may need you to sub in so I can sit down once or twice, I’ll be with you the entire time” you told her, just as you reached the third floor. The surgical wing was scattered as you made it to OR 4, your body stiffened up with worry as you realized it was the same OR. 

4 hours, it took you and Samira 4 hours to get every bullet, repair any tissue. You stood standing the entire time, your heels ached, knees slightly wobbly. Luckily, Greene was stable and okay, the ED only lost 2 patients that day, most non-surgical minus laparotomies split between your fellows and Walsh. You gave your graces to Samira as she beamed with joy, her job was her life, but luckily, you convinced her to finally go on a date every once and awhile.

The most important part, you still felt the light jerks. Peeing finally felt like liberation, what you really wanted was a bath and maybe a soda to substitute the craving for wine. You wanted to talk.

“Abbot?” you asked Bridget as her and Dana contacted the hospital officials to open the emergency department again. Bridget pointed up and you gave her a thumbs up. 

There on the roof, Jack was admiring the skyline with Robby. As the elevator dinged, Robby took his leave, giving you a smile and a nod.

“How’s Greene?”.

“Good, he almost woke up from the anesthesia, but other than that, stubborn bastard is asleep in post-op. His daughter came to drop off some clothes and food” you filled him in, the silence found the both of you in an unwelcoming way, “You doubted me today”.

“I did”.

“I became a surgeon at 22, by 27 I was already an attending” you started, “I’ve also was lucky enough to have Greene and Adamson as mentors, you and Robby as colleagues” you boasted, feeling the wind blow through your hair, “But, you walk into a room and patients don’t doubt you for a singular second. I walk in and it’s always a question of if I belong here- it’s not an age thing, that I learned a long time ago” you licked your lips before continuing, “I can feel our baby moving, at 13 weeks, I can feel it, I didn’t before. I think it’s because I’m a doctor, I am aware of the feeling. Let me put the limit on what I can and can’t do”.

Jack finally looked over at you, “I’m sorry” he started, sighing gently, “I feel you walk away and it scares the living shit out of me” raking his hand through his curls, “I feel selfish a bit, knowing you’re out of reach, that you’re upstairs operating and I don’t know what’s happening”.

You smiled at the sentiment of care, “I’m working” you told him, “I’m doing the job I fell in love with when I was a kid. Now my knees and back hurt both from age and the fact that there is a little Abbot in me” you took a second for him to smile, “This job gave me you, gave me some of the best memories I could imagine, I’d bargain the recklessness every single day if it meant I’m ending up with you”. 

He chuckled, moving away from his spot and climbing over the bars to hold you in his arms. He goes on the roof to admire the city, rather than the want to leave it. 

“Sometimes I feel like I’m back out there, fighting”.

“I know. You talk in your sleep a lot” you told him. 

You saved him as much as he saved you.

dividers by @cafekitsune

[goldsainz]

❝ NSFW ALPHABET ❞

MASTERLIST!

pairing . . . jacaerys velaryon x reader

◦∘｡ﾟ. warnings . . . MINORS DNI! lewd language, smut (breeding kink, creampie (?), lactation kink, overstimulation, oral (fem receiving), worshipping).

◦∘｡ﾟ. summary . . . jacaerys' behaviour in the bedroom.

◦∘｡ﾟ. note . . . i am so so so happy to be writing for hotd again, i’m enjoying season 2 so much and i can’t wait for it to be sunday tbh. i haven’t written smut in YEARS (literally) so if this is bad it’s because i am quite rusty😔 requests are open (for aemond & jacaerys)!

[ word count: 2,2k ]

A — AFTERCARE . . . what they're like after sex!

Jacaerys was raised to be a proper prince, and with that, he learned how to respect women. He’s so gentle, drawing a bath himself and making sure you feel at comfort. Anything you need he will make sure you have. When you’re both back in bed, he cuddles you and falls asleep whispering sweet nothings.

B — BODY PART . . . their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner's!

THEIRS . . . He loves his hands, mostly because you love them. Loves to use them to hold you incredibly close, to cup your cheeks when he leans in for a kiss, or just loves them when you take his hand and proudly walk alongside him, hand in hand.

YOURS . . . He loves your tummy. Loves peppering kisses on it, resting his head and falling asleep soundly while you run your hands through his hair. If you ever get pregnant it will be a hassle to get him off you and your tummy.

C — CUM . . . anything to do with cum, basically!

Even if he didn’t have a duty to get you pregnant, he would still be cumming inside you. It’s quite the primal urge he has to make sure everyone knows you’re his. It doesn't matter what you're doing, he will not cum anywhere else but inside you. If he sees his cum dripping out of you, he will push it back into you either with his fingers or simply with his cock.

D — DIRTY SECRET . . . pretty self explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs!

Jacaerys is quite comfortable in being the giver of the relationship, but sometimes he fantasies about you taking over in the bedroom. To be the one crying from overstimulation, to have you take care of him. 

E — EXPERIENCE . . . how experienced are they? do they know what they're doing?

He was one of the few men to save themselves for marriage, though not because of purity but more so because he never felt the urge to go to a brothel and have his first sexual experience be with a whore. Despite this, he does know what he’s doing. He had a talk with Daemon one time many moons ago, and because of it he’s gained some knowledge. But he only learns the true meaning of pleasure with you. 

F — FAVOURITE POSITION . . . this goes without saying!

Cowgirl. As previously stated, he loves the idea of you dominating him and while that isn't quite it, you on top makes him lose his mind. He also knows how much you enjoy the position, with him hitting you just right, as you once put it. With you controlling the pace and how much you take in, Jacaerys can perfectly take in the beautiful sight of your blissed-out face. 

G — GOOFY . . . are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.

When he’s in the bedroom he’s quite focused on making sure you’re okay and feel good, so there is no time to be humorous. Still, things happen and a giggle or two slip out when he’s going at it too hard and bumps your head against the bed frame, or when you're both desperate and trip over your clothes. Jacaerys doesn't necessarily try to make your intimate moments funny, but he doesn't stop it if it happens. 

H — HAIR . . . how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.

Before you he didn’t really care about grooming, but the days prior to your wedding night he decided to look his best. You have never asked him to groom himself, but he feels as though he has to. He knows how much you take care of yourself, why wouldn’t he do the same? As for the carpet matching the drapes they do. It’s a deep brown and slightly curly, just like the hair on his head.

I — INTIMACY . . . how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect.

Jacaerys is very romantic. He’s tender and sweet from beginning to the end, mostly because he’s madly in love with you, but also because he wants to take his time with you. He’s a big fan of eye contact, handholding, and kissing. Any opportunity he has where he can feel more connected to you, he will take it. Confessions of love and adoration are not rare, an “I love you” slipping from his lips when he’s thrusting inside you, or the looks he gives you that make you feel what he’s feeling. You don’t have just sex, you make love.

J — JACK OFF . . . masturbation headcanon!

He doesn’t often masturbate, only in situations when he’s away from you and misses you dearly. Truly, he gets needy. Usually, he waits until he’s back home with you and releases all that pent up tension onto you. But sometimes, when he longs for you and can’t have you, he resorts to his hand. It doesn't measure up to what your touch feels like, at all, but it does the job to at least quell some of the fire burning up inside him.

K — KINK . . .one or more of their kinks!

As previously mentioned this man wants you pregnant so bad. His breeding kink is very obvious to you, from the way he whispers in your ear how much he wants to see you pregnant, to see his seed take and make you swell with his baby, you want it as much as him, and that just makes him more feral. The Velaryon Prince loves feeling needed, which is why edging is one of his favourite ways to make you crave him as much as he craves you. Your desperate pleas to come fall to deaf ears, as he enjoys your whining and writhing just as much as the sight of you orgasming.

L — LOCATION . . . favourite places to do the deed!

Always somewhere private. Jacaerys is not much of an exhibitionist, although he likes people knowing you’re his, he also doesn’t want anyone else to be able to see you in a compromising position. That sight is sacred, reserved only to him only. As for a specific place, he thoroughly enjoys having sex in your bed. Maybe it's because of how intimate it is or that he knows there’s no way you'll be uncomfortable, but that is his preferred place.

M — MOTIVATION . . . what turns them on, gets them going!

Anything that you do is enough. Sometimes he fears how much power you have over him, how he’s so enamoured and almost obsessed with you. He gets turned on pretty easily when he’s around you, it doesn't take more than you speaking at him in your sweet, honeyed voice for him to be hard. 

N — NO . . . something they wouldn't do, turn offs!

Any type of experience where he has to share you with someone. No to threesome, no to exhibitionsim, and no to cuckolding. He also does not like seeing you get hurt, if he even suspects you’re not liking something he’ll stop until you’re comfortable. 

O — ORAL . . . preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.

Jacaerys doesn’t dislike the feeling of your mouth on his cock, but he much prefers the feeling of his mouth on your pussy. He eats you out like it’s his last meal, holding your hips down and feasting on the taste of you. He loves overstimulating you until you’re trying to push his head away, the pleasure too much. Loves how you push him back towards your pussy, grabbing a handful of his hair to make him continue his ministrations when he separates himself from you to breathe some air. Sometimes you fear he will suffocate between your thighs, when he doesn't come back up for air in a while, and what a sweet death that’d be to him. 

P — PACE . . . are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.

His pace is usually slow and sensual. He worships you, taking his time to appreciate all your sounds and the faces you make, forever burned in his memory. He loves showing you just how much he loves you, making you feel his adoration for you. Still, Jacaerys has moments where he can be rough, lost in the pleasure he frantically fucks into you. He rarely loses control, but when he does you’re both left a beautiful, sweaty mess.

Q — QUICKIE . . . their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.

Not the biggest fan of them. He likes to take his time, savouring those intimate moments so quickies are not something he would choose to partake in. If he’s really needy, he will consider the idea, but usually what starts as a quickie, ends in a long sexual endeavour. 

R — RISK . . . are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.

He’s pretty open to any ideas you might have, as long as they don’t involve sharing or hurting you in any way. He doesn't mind taking risks, but he’s pretty comfortable with the things you already do and will not be the one to propose different ways to spice things up, he leaves that to you. 

S — STAMINA . . . how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?

He can last a few, it all depends on what you're doing. Three rounds is the sweet spot for him. He eats you out, he fucks you and then fucks you once more to make sure his cum really takes. If you just want to make love, have one simple round where you’re both connected, then he’ll give it to you. But this man is insatiable, so it rarely ends in one round for him. 

T — TOYS . . . do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?

Neither of you really need them, you both consider the other enough. If you ever wanted to introduce toys in the bedroom, then Jacaerys is open to the idea. Maybe one day you’ll experiment, but for now the Prince has plenty of skill that will make you forget about any toys.

U — UNFAIR . . . how much they like to tease!

He loves teasing you. He makes you yearn for his touch, adoring the pout you give him and how glassy your eyes get when teasing you. Jacaerys slicks himself along your entrance, bumping against your clit which in turn makes you squirm and whine, and he takes his time until you’re almost sobbing for him to insert himself in you. He’s the worst in public, grabbing you by your waist and telling you how badly he wishes to be in bed with you, only to leave you to go speak to some lord. He watches your agape mouth as you look at him, and all he does is smirk because he knows how wet you’ll be when he finally has you alone.

V — VOLUME . . . how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.

Jacaerys is incredibly vocal. He groans when he finally sheathes himself inside you, moaning when you’re on top of him bouncing up and down without mercy. He’s not shy in telling you how good you're making him feel. He wishes he could speak more to you, but he becomes an incoherent mess pretty quickly and all you can understand are the few mumbles of “Need you” or “So good”, lewdly whining when you clench around him. A drawn out “Fuck” leaves his lips when he comes, squeezing your hips and almost shaking in relief when he feels his spend painting your gummy walls. 

W — WILD CARD . . . a random headcanon for the character!

Wants to fuck you while pregnant and see the milk from your tits dripping, to taste the sweet nectar your body produces. He dreams of how round your belly will be, and how ethereal you’ll look with the glow of motherhood. 

X — X-RAY . . . let's see what's going on under those clothes!

He’s around 15 cm or 6 inches. He’s quite girthy, with a heavy ball sack. He has some prominent veins which you can feel when he’s thrusting in you, the ridges making you sigh in pleasure. 

Y — YEARNING . . . how high is their sex drive?

Jacaerys has a high sex drive, better make the most of it while he’s young. He can control himself, he has great restraint because he knows the wait will just make it all the more sweeter. You can tell quite well when he’s yearning for you, sometimes all it takes is a good look at him and other times he’ll simply groan into your ear how badly he needs you. You guys have sex pretty much every day, with a few exceptions when you're sore or simply not in the mood. 

Z — ZZZ . . . how quickly they fall asleep after sex!

When you fall asleep, he falls asleep. He has great stamina but sometimes when he tires the both of you out, he can’t help but fall asleep almost instantly after he spends his load inside you. Adores cuddling you, makes sleeping for him easier and rids him of any bad dreams. He holds you close, drifting off to the sound of your slow breathing and the heat of your body against his. 

[imhaechanshoe]

Ahn suho NSFW alphabet

A = Aftercare

Suho is excellent at aftercare. He’ll clean you up gently, hold you close, rub circles into your back, and softly ask if anything hurt or felt too good to handle. He might even laugh shyly when he sees you’re still dazed, then kiss your forehead and make you something to eat.

B = Body Part (Favorite)

He’s obsessed with your neck and shoulders. Whether it’s tracing veins with his tongue or biting softly where your neck meets your collarbone, he likes seeing you flinch in pleasure. He’s also a fan of your eyes, watching them flutter or lock onto his when things get heated.

C = Cum

Suho prefers to finish inside, especially if you’re in a relationship. He’s respectful and always asks, but something about the intimacy of it—how close it makes you—drives him wild. If you’re not doing that, then he’ll gladly finish all over your stomach or back, panting as he kisses your spine.

D = Dirty Talk

He’s more of a groaner than a talker, but when he does talk, it’s low, rough, and honest. Expect whispered praises like “You’re so tight,” “You feel like heaven,” or “You’re mine.” Occasionally, he’ll surprise you by swearing when he’s close—it’s always sexy.

E = Experience

He’s not wildly experienced but he learns fast. Suho is the type to pay close attention to your reactions and repeat the things that make your legs tremble. He’s not cocky, but he’s confident—and he’s really good with his hands.

F = Favorite Position

He loves missionary, especially when he can look into your eyes, lace your fingers together, and grind deep. But if he’s feeling rough or jealous, he’ll pull you into doggy, gripping your hips like he owns you. He’s also a fan of sitting positions—like in his lap—so he can hold you tight.

G = Groaning

He’s vocal but not loud. He growls and groans close to your ear, especially when he’s fighting to stay in control. If you moan his name, he’ll moan yours back without hesitation.

H = Hair

Suho keeps it trimmed but not bare. He doesn’t care much about grooming unless you’re watching him. Then he gets shy about it. He finds it hot if you tug his hair during foreplay.

I = Intimacy

High. Suho is incredibly intimate—his touches are slow, deliberate, and filled with emotion. If he’s sleeping with you, it’s not casual. He’ll kiss you like he’s starving, and hold you like he’s afraid you’ll vanish.

J = Jacking Off

He doesn’t do it often, but when he does, it’s always with you in mind. If he’s been away or had a fight with you, he’ll get off thinking about your mouth, your moans, or how you say his name when you come. He’ll always look a little guilty afterward.

K = Kinks

• Possessiveness: Not controlling, but he likes knowing he’s the only one who gets to see you like that.

• Marking: Hickeys, scratches, bite marks—he wants reminders of where he’s been.

• Praise: He lives for making you feel good and hearing you say how much you love it.

• Power dynamics: Slight dominance, especially when he’s angry or jealous.

L = Location

He’s a bit cautious about public places but won’t say no to a hidden alley or a locked classroom. His favorite place is somewhere warm and private, like your bed—or his, when he gets brave enough to ask you to stay the night.

M = Morning Sex

He loves waking up next to you and pulling you in before either of you speaks. It’s slow, warm, and tender—more about the closeness than the rush. You’ll end up tangled in sheets and kissed senseless.

N = Nudes

He rarely sends any unless you really beg, but if you do, they’re tasteful, sweaty gym selfies or shirtless mirror pics. He adores getting them from you though—he’ll bite his lip and save them in a locked folder.

O = Oral

He gives amazing head. He goes slow, builds you up, and watches your face the entire time. He’ll hum against your skin and won’t stop until you’re shaking. Receiving? He gets shy at first, but once he realizes how good your mouth feels, he loses control fast.

P = Pace

Suho’s pace depends on the mood. He’s usually slow, deep, and rhythmic—but if you beg or provoke him, he can get brutal. Either way, he knows how to build tension and take you apart piece by piece.

Q = Quickies

Yes, especially if emotions are running high. After a fight, in a bathroom, or before class—he’s into it if the tension’s been building. Expect intense, rushed kisses and hands that don’t want to let go.

R = Risk

Medium. He’s not reckless, but if he’s feeling emotional or needy, he’ll take risks. He once kissed you breathless in a stairwell and had his hand under your shirt before he even realized where you were.

S = Stamina

High. Suho’s got the stamina of someone who works out constantly. He can go for multiple rounds if you’re up for it, but he’ll always make sure you finish first.

T = Toys

He’s open to experimenting but prefers using his hands and mouth. If you ever brought toys into the bedroom, he’d use them on you like a pro, especially if it turns you on.

U = Unusual Place

Once in the back room of the convenience store after hours. He was tense from a fight and you calmed him down with kisses that turned into something more. He never forgot it.

V = Volume

He’s a low moaner, full of breathy grunts and soft growls. He only gets loud when he’s close or if you hit a particularly good spot.

W = Wild Card

If he really trusts you, Suho will let his walls down completely—whimpering, clinging, and begging softly in your ear. He may act tough outside, but in bed, he can be emotionally raw in the most beautiful way.

X = X-Ray (What’s Under the Clothes)

Lean but muscular. He’s not bulky, but he’s defined—especially his arms and abs. You can tell he trains constantly. There are faint scars on his knuckles and torso from fights, but they only make him more irresistible.

Y = Yearning

Off the charts. Suho aches for you when you’re not around. He won’t always say it, but you can feel it in the way he touches you—like every second is borrowed time.

Z = Zzz (Sleep)

After sex, he crashes hard. His arm always ends up around you, holding you close like a shield. He sleeps best with his face buried in your neck and your scent on his skin.

[imaginedreamwrite]

For wife Wednesday, no one knew ghost was married until he gets hurt and here she comes running into the hospital room

There was more unknowns about Lieutenant Simon Riley than knows. Even for the task force and brotherhood he was in, they didn’t know that much about him.

Where was he born and raised? Manchester.

Does he have any siblings? Unknown.

Who’s his next of kin? Unknown.

Mother and father still alive? Unknown.

When these questions are asked in the hospital, to try and determine who to contact to inform them that Simon’s hurt, not even Price can say.

Even if he does know, he won’t say a thing. Simon Riley keeps his cards close to his chest, and his personal life is strictly under lock and key. There’s a thick steel wall between who they know and whatever personal life he has when he goes home.

“Lieutenant Riley, we found a number for Mrs. Riley and she’s on her way.” One of the nurses casually mentions after the initial round of questions, and the surprise from the other three soldiers is unyielding.

“Mate, wha’? You’re bloody married?!” Gaz is the first to vocalize the shock, the absolutely mind blowing discovery that Simon Riley has a wife. “Cap did you know?”

Price doesn’t say anything to confirm nor deny, a shrug if the only answer Gaz gets from him. And Simon lays on the bed, staring at his brothers in arms, just a silent as before.

It’s no surprise that they don’t know he’s married, and even if they did somehow know, they almost expected someone as cold as him. Not some sweet wide eyed woman with soft features and a gentle voice, not a woman who’s in the late stages of pregnancy, sporting a baby belly that looks like it could pop only weeks from now.

“Simon what happened?” Your voice is soft and gentle, even as it’s laced with worry. You make your way toward Simon whose laying in the bed, and he turns to accept your hug, his hands cupping your cheeks.

“S’alright, love.” He stills your frantic questions with a kiss to your lips, his voice taking on a new tone no one has heard before. “Stress’nt good for the babe-”

“I got here as soon as I could when I heard you were injured. Simon, you have to be more careful.” The rest of the 141 feel like they’re intruding on a very intimate moment when you scold him gently. Even as you dote on him by brushing hair out of his eyes, it’s clear that he’s only worried about you.

“Bonnie-” Johnny starts speaking and silences himself again when Simon shoots him a look, a warning—it’s Mrs. Riley or nothing. “Mrs. Riley-”

“Oh, you don’t…” your smile is soft and sweet, real tender like you really are that genuinely kind. “Y/N is fine-”

“We didn’t know you were even married.” Gaz awkwardly continues where Johnny left off, and looks back at John for a response—did he know?

“You didn’t tell them?” You turn slowly, it’s hard for you to manoeuvre because you’re pregnant, but Simon steadies his hand on your hip to aide you.

“To protect you love, the less know about ya the better.” To keep you safe, of course, Simon wouldn’t tell anyone about you, not unless absolutely necessary. “Not cause I was embarrassed.”

He helps you sit next to him, despite being hurt and in a hospital bed, and then helps you lay down next to him. Once you’re settled, his wraps an arm around your waist, mindful of the tubes and cords and IV’s.

The topic shifts from you to something else as long as they visit, and you’re all too happy not to have the attention on you.

[emilys-bangs]

etch | e.p

Tags: established relationship, fluff, too much tension for *checks notes* 1k words, reader gets a (hip) tattoo, emily short-circuits, no design or color mentioned

Summary: You get a tattoo. Emily somewhat loses her train of thought. Requested here.

Word count: 1.1k

Emily sheds her clothes as she walks further into the apartment, toeing her shoes off at the door, shrugging out of her blazer and draping it over the back of the couch as she goes, not really caring about the mess she’s leaving in her wake. She’ll pick them up, she always does, but for now she needs all confining materials off her body. 

It’s quiet. Sergio trots up to her as she’s dumping her bag in the laundry room, curling around her ankles with a trill. Emily smiles and bends to scratch between his ears. “Hey, handsome. Why’s it so quiet here, huh? Y/N didn’t pack up and leave us, did they?” 

Sergio pushes his head into her hand. Emily laughs, dragging her nails through his fur. “Let’s go see, then.”

He chases her ankles as she walks out, her eyes scanning the apartment for a glimpse of you. It’s quiet, yes, but not lifeless; the lights are on, the faint scent of coffee lingers along with a discarded mug on the table. “Babe?” She calls out, pushing open your bedroom door. Sergio follows as she locks her gun in the safe.

“Here.”

A sliver of light pours out from the crack between the bathroom door and the frame, your voice muffled behind it.

Emily gently nudges Sergio’s paw off of her thigh, placing a consoling kiss on his head when he meows. “We haven’t been abandoned yet, Serg. Must be doing something right, huh?” She straightens and nudges the bathroom door open, eyes widening when she sees you standing in front of the mirror.

You’re topless. And peeling a transparent piece of film from your hip, stretching it away to expose a thick, shapeless blob caked just under your navel. Emily stares as you greet her with a smile and toss the film in the trash.

“Hi.”

“Is that a tattoo?” She blurts, stepping closer.

“It is, yeah,” you hum, turning on the tap and wetting a bar of soap. It froths, bubbles growing between your palms as Emily bends a little to get a closer look, trying to discern the design beneath the mess of smeared ink and plasma. She can’t see much before you gently start washing it, rubbing small circles to take the excess gunk off of your skin. You let out a disgusted noise when ink transfers to your fingers.

Emily is still staring. You’ve mentioned wanting to get a tattoo a few times before, but it was always some sort of vague, throwaway comment you murmured with your lips on her hip bone, tracing the ink on her own skin. Everything was blurry—her attention, your voice, the notion of a design beyond simply wanting to get one. Something pretty, you’d say, and the vibrations of the words through her body were enough to clear her mind of anything else.

The tattoo finally comes into view. Your skin is raw around it, puffed and swelling, but there’s no denying it’s gorgeous. The ink glistens on your wet skin, curving intimately around your hip and cupping it like a gentle hand. Emily could mirror the same movement with her palm, only she could never get as close as fusing with your skin.

“Earth to Em.” You murmur teasingly. She looks up when you flick a few drops of water on her, belatedly closing her mouth as your eyes meet. “I’m guessing that means you like it?” You toy with your lip, teeth digging down on a grin.

Fucker.

“It’s pretty,” she says, embarrassed to find a rasp in her voice. Emily clears her throat, “It suits you, love. I’m, uh…just surprised, that’s all.”

“I finally knew what I wanted to get,” you shrug, washing your hands again before reaching for a roll of paper towels. “Didn’t want to wait any longer. I’d have told you, but you were busy. Besides,” you look at her through your lashes, “it evidently makes for a nice surprise.”

She desperately wants to wipe that smirk off your face. Preferably with her lips, but you’re busy, and she knows the demands of tattoo aftercare. Her eyes drop down to it again as you pat it dry, soaking up the water dripping down to the waistband of your pants.

“Evidently.” 

She’s already plagued with the urge to press her lips to it, drag her teeth over your skin and nibble bruises in the space between the ink. Suddenly she understands why you spend hours at her hip and lower back, wandering fingers hot on her skin as you traced along her tattoos. 

You tilt your hip and she imagines it in her hands, her nails digging in crescents, temporary permanence blooming above the stark ink that gets to stay with you longer than she will.

She’s only half answering when you ask her how the case went, how’d she eat, how’d she sleep, even though you’d called almost every night. Emily always tries to keep it vague, but this time it doesn’t even take any effort; her mind can’t focus, her thoughts as fleeting as smoke curling through the gaps between her hands, elusive. You place another sheet of film on your hip, slide your waistband up so that the tattoo is partially covered, and that’s when she somewhat regains her focus.

You’re smug as the cat that got the cream. Emily doesn’t particularly care, her back pressing against the sink as you slot into her arms, your mouth finally meeting hers for a kiss. Her hands splay over your back and gently squeeze, saying hello. She traces your spine, her fingers trailing down to the curve of your waist without permission. You smile into her mouth, the taste of your pride thick on her tongue as she gently thumbs the film on your hip, her eyes still full of the way the ink sneaks up above your waistband. Emily nips hard at your bottom lip, your laugh echoing in her ears as you pull back.

Her breathing is embarrassingly labored, catching in her chest and warming your chin in ragged chops. 

No place like fucking home.

“If you like that one,” you smile, idly tucking her hair behind her ear, “you’ll really love the one I have planned next.”

Oh, Jesus.

“What?” Emily’s throat dries. “Where?” Her nails bite into your flesh.

You run your hand down the side of your chest, fingers drumming just over your ribs. “Thereabouts,” you drawl, airy carelessness in your voice. 

Emily groans into her mouth. “I swear to god,” she murmurs, her grip tight as she pulls you in by the other hip. “You’re going to kill me one day.”

You stumble into her, laughing. “Good way to go, I think.”

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