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I think the word "squelch" should be banned and I think there should be another word for that exact sound but I dislike all of them :)

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Ollie x Reader x Nikolai - Threesome Headcanons

A/N: Surprise! Not just a post! But this!! Cant even lie Sway Lake did remind me why I had a Robert Sheehan phase in 2019 :p being so honest, this is def a bit ooc but I thought it would be fun anyway

-This is something you would absolutely have to bring up first, no matter what. If you’re with Ollie, that’s just not something he’s ever even thought about but he would be open if it was with Nikolai in particular. He knows him well enough to trust he wont do anything too mean. He knows he can listen when it matters. If you’re with Nikolai, he’s not exactly shy about his lust, he’s not afraid of suggesting a threesome. However, with Ollie? That idea is not being credited to him, even if it would be far from the first time he’s thought about inviting his best friend into such a thing. He may drop hints, but he wont be the one to put it out there if you havent. If neither? If you’re just friends? Well, duh, they aren’t mentioning a thing. Ollie is far too reserved to even admit he finds you attractive, and Nik just planned on more back and forth before asking for a hookup- let alone something like this. 

-These two could not be any more different in bed, and that is part of what makes this pairing so wonderful. Their differences being brought on your body at the same time just makes your head spin. They compliment each other perfectly, and you would never guess unless you were actively between the two. Rolling around in the sheets of whatever lodge bedroom was most convenient in the moment. At a glance, you’d never think theyd be able to compromise enough to make it work, but when they conspire they are unfortunately unstoppable.

-Ollie is the sweetest, the softest. Dominant, but not because he wants control or because he wants to feel above anyone, but rather because he wants you to be able to sit back and let him do the work. He is all about pleasure and praise and gentle touch. Making sure you both feel good and feel safe. He makes love more often than not, he is usually a man of intimacy. Of service. He cant help carrying that attitude into this situation, in fact he makes sure that he does because he knows how his best friend is with partners. If he isnt the merciful one in the room, then who will be? Certainly not Nik. 

-Then there is Nikolai, who carries that confidence of his right into the bedroom. He’s a lot more relentless. His dominance is a lot more self-important, a lot more cocky. The opposite of Oliver’s approach. Teasing, depriving, doing what he can to bait you into wanting more of him the way he wants more of you. Leaning into rough at times if he knows youre into it. Exciting and suave, like everything he does. If Ollie is giving you encouragement, he has to get degrading. If Ollie is running his hands through your hair all soft, he has to pick up the pace of his hips just to see you whine at the contrast. He keeps the balance. Funnier thing with him, though, is he still praises, kink of a lot. Just not in the tradition thought. He wont tell you youre doing good, but he will go on about how much of a sexy motherfucker he finds you to be.

-They both like to see your brain go foggy and release all the thoughts you may have, watching you reduced to nothing but a clingy mess. Its for entirely separate reasons, though, of course. On Ollie’s part, he loves being able to provide that little break for you. Making sure you think about nothing else but his skin against yours and his kind words. Getting lost in the moment, lost in the overwhelm of not just him but the both of them. For Nik, its the knowledge that he could make you so brainless. Even if he has his best friend’s help, that doesnt mean he has much faith in that help, he’s always gonna attribute the end result of your fucked out state to a majority him. It’s an ego boost, if he ever needed one. 

-They can spend hours just working you up, teasing, getting you so desperate for more that you start want to beg. Sitting in Ollie’s lap, his hands running over your chest and sides while Nikolai makes out with you like a starved man. Taking turns giving you head, or pumping their fingers into you. Ollie alone could spend forever between your thighs, gently bringing you to orgasm. Nik loves taunting you about it, running his hands through your hair and teasing you about how easily the two can get you over the edge. Nik will also not hesitate to make you ride his jean-clad thigh in front of Ollie as a form of foreplay. It flusters him to watch just as much as it does for you to do, but its not like either of you are going to object. Watching you rut against Nikolai’s thigh so desperately is one of the hottest things hes ever seen, and who are you to complain when the end goal is always to make you cum.

-Theyre not afraid of touching each other when it feels right in the moment. They are not ashamed, and honestly it doesnt even fluster them. Not even Ollie. It simply makes sense when it makes sense. Making out over your shoulder while one- or both -of them are inside of you. One of them jerking the other off when youre already occupied. Sometimes they talk to each other instead of you, going on about how good you feel, sending stupid encouragement to each other. Almost talking as if youre not there at all. I cannot deny that they would both likely suck dick if it was in the name of bro shit, they interract a lot when theyre with you. Neither of them is the type to act all weird about it.

-They arent exactly unwilling to do double penetration, but they are less inclined. Just isnt the preferred for them. Ollie gets too worried about it. He knows its a lot to begin with and then anal on its own can be a lot, and he just worries a lot. If you can get him clawing for you enough, he can relax enough to trust that youre enjoying it. Get him out of his own head for once! They will take a trip to the eiffel tower in a heartbeat, though. Usually Ollie inside of you with Nik down your throat, but it’s not always exclusively. Theyre absolutely down to switch things up when it would suit the situation better. They’re genuinely the most versatile partners for a threesome, because theyre so different to begin with, its easy to move things around when theyre needed for things that isnt their “usual.”

-Nikolai is much more a taker while Ollie is more a giver. Both still tops, but Nik is the type to order you to ride him or suck him off for more his pleasure than yours, while Ollie is almost solely focused on you. That is part of what makes the two of them paying attention to you at one time so utterly dizzying. Youll have Ollie’s cock inside of you, rolling his hips so gently and carefully, dragging out the prettiest moans, and simultaniously Nikolai will be using your throat to get off. Nik’s physical manhandling to get what he wants form you vs Ollie’s comforting touches that make your eyes roll back. All the while theyre both praising you in their own ways, and their incredibly different personalities become all you can focus on. It is quite the experience.

-The both of them take the after affects of it all very seriously. I am not sure id refer to it as aftercare, thats not officially what it is, i suppose. Ollie especially, of course, but the both of them find it very important to make sure all parties are comfortable afterwards. Sometimes that means entirely focusing on you, helping you come down, cleaning up. Other times its covering Ollie in kisses and compliments because he feels unsure about how it went, reassuring him that he was so good, and that if either of them ever did anything that made you uncomfortable you would say something. A lot of the time it ends with sharing a bottle of water and taking a nap in a bit of a cuddle pile, mumbled conversations back and forth until the three of you are out for a good hour or two.

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I need everyone to know that despite being at a theme park yesterday I was in fact writing there

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Would you write for Kieran?

Yeah! Depends on the character though, because I haven’t seen as many of his works as I have Rory’s lol.

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Anyone have headcanon requests? 👀

Been working on oneshots but I wanna get in the swing of doing headcanons and don’t have a ton of ideas atm.

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what if you had a tongue piercing and it got stuck while giving erik a blowjob and y'all had to call 911 and explain that your piercing was stuck in his wouldn't that be funny

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Clyde Headcanons - SFW & NSFW

TW: Knife play, dacryphillia, drug usage

A/N: Been meaning to get to him forever but I in fact cannot access the film rn so uhhh. This might be reaallll canon divergent

SFW-

Clyde is casual. Not unattentive or neglectful, just casual about things. When youre his, you're just his. When he asks you to be his partner, he doesn't make a whole motion about it, he just asks you like it's nothing. No plan, just heat of the moment. Probably when you're both stoned out of your minds in some laughing fit, or out on a walk to nowhere late at night. He just feels so much love for you that he has to make sure youll be with him, right then and there. Not that he won't do things that are meaningful or emotional, it's just a lot of smaller gestures. He doesn't really make a display of it all.

Besides affection. He will make a display of that. Publicly. He's huge on PDA. You are always in his lap when you're around friends, especially when you're outside and sitting on the ground. He'd rather you sit on him than in the dirt or gross concrete, it's only polite. Scattering little kisses all over your face when you're upset and pulling you into (way too deep to be out of the bedroom) kisses when you're in a crowd. He's not much of a hand holding type, weirdly enough he sees it as quite intimate, but he loves linking pinkies while you're walking. He is so touchy and doesn't stop just because other people are around, he loves being utterly plastered to you at all times and showing off that you're his. Two birds with one stone.

You wouldn't think it at a first glance, but he is extremely athletic. Hes got a body covered in real natural muscle and it all comes from him just fucking around, mostly. He doesn't exactly work out, not intentionally, at least. He's always chasing after friends be it on foot or bike, or running from cops, or simply finding various things to climb for the hell of it. It adds up quickly when he's doing this kind of thing on the nightly. He can pick you up- he will pick you up. He does not hesitate to scoop you up into his arms when you're tired, or throw him over your shoulder just because he knows it will make you squeal. He uses his strength to his advantage.

He refuses to learn how to skateboard. He could! Easily! There are many people around him that could teach him properly, but it's almost a bit to him now that he's friends with a bunch of skaters and cant skate. He can keep up just fine with his bike and pissing off new people by using a board for everything but what it's meant to be is peak humor to him. He knows a few things, enough to not totally kill himself if for some reason he needed to, but he simply doesn't.

His favorite activity is laying back on whatever soft surface he can find and existing in the same space with you. Sometimes you talk. Sometimes you talk a lot. About the weight of the world, about comic books, about snacks and which flavors are clearly superior. Sometimes it's just complete silence and it's the most comfortable and safe you've ever felt in a lack of conversation. Sometimes drugs are involved, but not always. He just likes you. Being with you in any way you'll be around him. Sometimes what you both need is to lay on top of each other on the couch, or someone's mattress, or the damn concrete floor, and stare at the ceiling.

He loves including you in all of the chaos his little group gets into. Of course, he tries not to get you caught up in anything too crazy, certainly nothing that will put you in immediate harm's way but he absolutely gets you into a lot of shit. He drags you wherever they happen to be going on any given night. He’ll take you to tiny venue rock shows, and smile as he watches you get the hang of the local scene. He takes you to the skatepark with him, and will be very supportive but also very anxious if you ever want to learn to skate. You end up blending into the group very well, and it makes him genuinely so happy to see. If you're the anxious type or don't make connections easily, he will be even happier to see you talking with his friends and enjoying yourself. He’s proud of ya.

He’s got some wild hyper-empathy going on with you. He cannot read the room worth shit, but he can read you. If you're out, maybe at a show, or in a group, and you get anxious or uncomfortable, you don't even need to tell him. He just knows, and will softly ask if you want to leave or if you need anything before you can even get the chance to think or say anything. There will be times you're trying so hard to hide your feelings, maybe you feel like you'd burden him with your issues or maybe you simply don't have the energy to deal with it, but he will see right through it. He’ll never force you to talk, but he will let you know that you can and that you'll never be a bother. Actually, he feels special any time you open up to him, it's a big deal to him. He takes that shit to the grave, because he knows you trust him and he could never betray that.

Clyde has such specific ways of speaking and such specific mannerisms, and he thinks it is adorably sweet when you start adopting his little habits as your own. Every time you use the slang he’s made up, or he hears a bit of his accent in your voice, he can't help but smile like an idiot about it. He does the exact same with the people he trusts most, and he doesn't even realize. Half of his quirks aren't even things he started doing consciously, it's stuff his friends do that he picked up along the way. It's intimate to him, makes him feel like you're comfortable around him. If you're around him enough to start accidentally mimicking him, you have to like him in some way.

Will only willingly share his weed with you, anything stronger is a no unless it is an absolute necessity. He won't be the reason you're able to play with your body like that, just because he does it doesn't mean you should. If you get it from somewhere else, fine, he’ll look after you. He knows he can't exactly stop a grown adult from doing what they want. He isn't going to give you any of the harder stuff he dabbles in, though, nor will he encourage it. You are too important to him for him to be messing around like that. He’s irresponsible about a lot of things but he doesn't let himself play with your safety. Losing you is one of his biggest fears, as much as it may seem like he doesn't care that much sometimes. He’s had many a nightmare about somehow getting you hurt, he can't risk something like that.

He is quite the natural protector in general, actually. His first instinct is always to focus on those around and what they're doing before himself. You, especially. It's not something very outward, again, he won't make any big scene about it but he is always watching. He's certainly not out here getting into fights, but he can get you away from a potential altercation before you even spot the problem. He has a ton of random medical knowledge, just from hanging around so many different people over time. He has a great memory, he has a lot of random knowledge stored in that brain. If you're ever hurt or sick, he can figure out what he needs to do, at least until he can get you somewhere more formal if need be. He will do so happily, too. It’s not often he gets to feel needed in a group, quite the opposite usually, so he comes to aid when he can. He looks after you as well as he possibly could.

NSFW-

Pretty much always dominant, but he isn’t hard about it. He doesn’t put a lot of thought into it, that’s just the role he naturally fills and enjoys. He likes some of the titles and dynamic stuff but it's not an all time thing, really. He can be somewhat submissive at times, but it's exclusively when he gets high enough, or he is struggling and you want to take care of him. He’ll let you take the lead then, but only then. Otherwise, he takes on a very soft-dom role and he very much enjoys it.

Overstimulation, good god is he a fan. He can't help it, it's cute to see you cling to him and whimper and cry out his name while he pushes you over the edge. Mostly uses his fingers so he can ramble while he does, but he isn't afraid to get his mouth on you either. Whatever he thinks is right at the time. He can get you so fucked out before even taking his pants off that you forget thats the point. By the time he sinks his cock into you, you're already a total mess. And that is exactly how he likes it. Seeing you in total bliss is his absolute favorite.

High sex! Duh!! Literally one of his favorite things to do while under the influence- you. The inherent calm and slow of it all. How sensitive he gets, how sensitive you can get. How there’s no room for nerves when your head is so cloudy before he's even touched you. It’s all lazy and sweet, and it feels electric just touching each other, let alone getting each other off. He often goes straight for overstimulating you when you're both high, and it's so easy when you are. Holding you in his arms, working you over with his fingers and on his cock until you cant anymore. He can't help himself, it's hard to stop when you're just so sensitive and so pretty and he's feeling so good.

Obsessed with lazy, lovey, slow sex. The kind you think only happens in movies or whatever. Cinematic. So wrapped up in each other that nothing else exists outside of the room you’re in. Mumbled praises against each other's skin, hands on every inch of each other, but not in a rough way. Just desperate and intense. You'll wake up like this a lot. Still kinda sleepy, craving touch and the feeling of skin against skin. Especially if you had a long night beforehand, Clyde is never really satisfied. He’ll see you, still unclothed, sleeping so peacefully in his bed, thinking about the night before, and feel his cock already hard.

Big into music during sex. He doesn't have any custom tapes or anything, but he has albums he likes. If anything, just for background noise and to at least try to be considerate to his roommates, but also for the vibes. It’s fun to set the mood! He also thinks it's really funny to start talking about whatever album is playing while he's literally inside of you, asking about your thoughts on it while you're totally unreachable. Something about it makes him laugh, which means it's so hard to tell him to stop because damn that man’s laugh is gorgeous. Hard to be mad at it.

Despite his strong desire to keep you safe and away from harm, he does occasionally like to mess with knives. He is just unhinged enough to enjoy the drag of a blade against not just your skin, but his own. He may not always actually break skin or draw blood, most times he doesn’t, actually, if he's using it on you. He just likes the danger, the spike of adrenaline. The threat, even if there's no payoff. He minds it a lot less when it's himself, he can get on board with having you give him a few cuts every once in a while. He’s got enough scars on his body from his reckless antics, he’ll know those are from you though. He’d never bring this desire up to you, though. You’d either have to tell him it's something you're into first, or bully it out of him. He doesn't want to scare you, or make you think that he wants to really hurt you.

He won’t shut up. He can’t shut up. He isn't even trying to tease or fluster, he just goes on and on when you get intimate. Just spills from his mouth. Expect a lot of “Is that good, baby? I hope so. S’good for me. Feels so good.” and “You look so pretty like that, you know. So fuckin’ gorgeous.” from him. When he gets super in it, he shifts sappy. Sometimes a bit possessive in the softest way possible. Lots of “you're all mine” but also a lot of “im yours” talk. Reassuring, in a way.

Falls apart for a good blowjob. The feeling of your lips around his cock is something he never gets used to, no matter how long you've been together. He is such a hair puller, and he gets so whiny about it. Groaning into the back of his hand, unable to sit still, giving you all the encouragement he has. He’ll outright ask you for it, too, he isn't afraid. You know he isnt going to leave you hanging or anything, he has no shame in how badly he needs his cock hitting the back of your throat.

He’s obsessed with eye contact. Dude literally cannot get enough of it. Watching the little changes as he slowly sinks his cock into you, seeing how long it takes for your eyelids to snap shut, watching you struggle to keep them open as he is pounding into your body. He adores the intimacy of it all. He is also absolutely the type to be a total ass and hold your face so you cant even try to look away, teasing you the whole time about it.

Dacryphillia. That's it. He gets so fucking hard seeing you cry. Not if it's a serious situation, of course, he can read the room sometimes. However, if you are so angry you cry, or so frustrated you cry, he can't help but feel himself get worked up about it. He couldn't tell you why, it's just cute. The way your nose scrunches up, and that sweet doe look you get, he literally could be caught drooling. God forbid he fucks you to tears. Makes you feel so good you become nothing but an overstimulated, teary-eyed, mess. That's only more encouragement to him. Whatever round you were on is now far from the last.

Do you have tits? Those are in fact his now. He is a boob guy for sure. Any access to boobs that he can get is good enough for him. He can be kinda pervy about it, actually. It’s like- the first thing he asks when you’re first getting touchy is if he can grab your tits. Lolz.

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Ollie Sway Comfort Headcanons

A/N: So self indulgent but I hope y’all like it anyway lolzz

-Ollie would be one of the most perfect people when it comes to comfort in hard times. He literally is filled with so much love for you he doesn’t know what to do with it. Seeing you upset pains him. Physically. He will memorize everything that makes you feel bad and helps you cope, if it means he can make you feel better in any capacity.

-If you’re out at the lake house, he’ll drag you out on the water, by the water if that’s what you have the energy for. He will carry you out there if that’s what it takes. He’ll wrap his arms around you, and stroke your hair, letting the lap of the water against the nearest surface do most of the talking. Letting the nice fresh air be an aid in grounding. He’s always trying to give you something to focus on besides whatever may be going on, like softly pointing out the few constellations he knows, or telling you about memories he has of the lake from his childhood. He can talk about the lake the way he does all he likes, but he knows it’s somewhat what healing being out there. At the very least he knows fresh air is supposed to help these kinds of things.

-He will definitely urge you to talk about how you’re feeling. Like a lot. He’s not going to let you bottle up your feelings and fall apart because of it. He can’t help you if he doesn’t know exactly what’s wrong. If you can’t, he won’t be mad, more worried than anything. He won’t force you either but he will make an effort to hammer it in that you can talk about whatever is troubling you and you won’t be a bother. Even if you’ve talked about it a hundred times, even if he can’t really fix it. He may not understand it all or totally get why you feel the way you do, but he will try so hard to. He’d never downplay your feelings or problems, he knows what that’s like and that is the last thing he wants for you.

-He gets so protective when you’re majorly upset like this. He feels this overwhelming need to care for you, and make sure you’re safe. Not an obligation, a desire to make absolute sure you’re getting what you need. If you’re not eating or keeping up with hygiene well, he will jump at the opportunity to help. He will find something you want to eat and get it, he’ll make it if he has to. He is also not afraid to help you shower or bathe, whatever you need. He likes being able to take the time with you, to take care of you, especially just sitting and brushing through your hair afterwards. He’s always going on about how much he loves you and how pretty you are when he does this. It’s not a task to him, you trusting him enough to let him take care of you when you’re in such a vulnerable spot isn’t something he takes lightly.

-He knows it won’t fix the problem, but he processes a lot of his life events and overwhelming emotions with music so if that’s not something you’re already doing too, he’s gonna suggest it. He always tries to find songs he thinks would comfort you, or relate with your situation. He’s got a little mixtape he’s burned them all onto and it’s labeled with something really cheesy like “remember I love you” or something, even though he tries not to put love songs on there. It’s more a reminder that you have someone thinking about you than a show of affection. If there’s any albums that he has that you find make you feel something or you relate to, he’s all for letting you borrow them, too. 

-Always shooting you compliments and bits of encouragement. Sometimes he’s a bit awkward or unsure in his delivery, just because he can never quite tell if it’s for sure a good time for what he wants to say or not. He’s good at knowing what to say, when, though. It’s never an issue, as much as his own insecurities say it will be. Lots of “you’re everything to me” and “there are so many people who love you” and “you’re stronger than you know” type energy with him.

-Genuinely he would give his life for you to feel better so whatever you need, if he can get ahold of it, if he can pull it off, he will do it in a heartbeat. He’s just like that when it comes to those he cares about and it only doubles when it’s you were talking about. He loves you so deeply, of course he’d do whatever he could to be there for you in such a time of need.

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Love telling people that a lot of the advice that actually helped me improve my writing came from Awsten and Travis' Slumber Party. The fanfiction podcast. Run by a band guy and his best friend.

[rabbits-bad-habit]

Let Me Try

Benji makes you cum when you can’t do it yourself.

Tags - sexual frustration, finger fucking and clit rubbing, ruined orgasms, benji talking you through it, softest of soft dom!benji, hint of somno at the end, blue balling a gentle n patient Benji :’) he forgives ya tho

A/N - for my soft and sweet dearly loved court :) cum hard, my friend.

Benji’s not deaf, and he’s not an idiot. He knows what you’re doing in there. Or rather, what you’re trying to do. It’s obvious in the way your mattress squeaks and  how each of your whines are stuttered out and broken, whimpery. Every so often you groan in frustration, too. There’s never that beautiful symphony of moaning that signals your release. And it’s been hours. 

Days, even. You don’t know what’s wrong with you. You feel fucking broken like this, unable to make yourself cum, and isn’t that fucking stupid? It’s one thing to be with another person and be unable to get there - there’s a lot of things at play, of course. Are you comfortable with them? Are they doing everything to your liking? Are you anxious about something, got some stuff on your mind, maybe? 

While alone, you should be able to just…cum. You know how to do everything, after all. How to turn yourself on and how to rub your fingers on your clit and pump them in and out of your cunt. Been doing it since you were a kid. So why the fuck isn’t it happening? You feel like your body’s failing you, and you feel like you’re failing yourself. The cycle of defeat is making you grow weary. Pissed off. 

Your hair is mussed when you finally come out of your bedroom, cheeks shiny with a light sheen of sweat. Benji notices the way you pout and glare at nothing, crossing your arms when you sit opposite him on the old, torn, navy couch. 

“Have a good nap?”

You shrug and mumble something under your breath, frustration still painted over your features. You can feel Benji glancing at you, his brows raised in concern. “I didn’t sleep,” you mutter, looking out of the sliding glass patio door. It’s rainy outside, and there’s a couple of birds jumping in and out of puddles. Benji’s got some pancake scented candles lit to mask the smell of his weed. 

“Yeah? Why not?” He’s focused on his Nintendo switch, deftly moving his fingertips on his controller. Another shrug from you as you watch him play the game - Unpacking, which you bought for his Switch. You can’t really keep track of whose shit is whose anymore, though. Yours and Benji’s lives have bled into each other so much at this point, it’s hard to tell where yours begins and his ends when you’re sipping tea out of his favorite mug or when he’s eating Lucky Charms with your favorite little spoon that you stole from some shitty diner. Whatever you and Benji are, it’s nice to have him by your side. “Don’t wanna talk about it?”

“Not really,” you answer.

Benji offers you a warm, sympathetic smile and then lifts up his oversized knitted blanket, inviting you over. You crawl over and snuggle up to his side, but Benji doesn’t want that. He turns and wraps both of his strong hands around your hips, then grunts as he pulls you into his lap, spreading his legs to make room for you. Benji would cut himself open and put you inside his ribs if he could, but this’ll have to suffice for the time being.

You’re watching him unpack his digital boxes, and you like all those quiet, satisfying little noises the game makes, as well as Benji clicking the Joy-Con’s buttons and joysticks. You could fall asleep listening to it, sort of like you did when you were in school. Laying your head on your desk during some downtime, listening to your teacher reply to emails on her laptop until the bell dismissed you. Always on a warm spring day for some reason, close to when school lets out for the summer. The breeze pouring in from the open window. It gives you the same sort of feeling.

“Do you wanna play?” Benji murmurs quietly, gently tapping your side. 

“Mhm,” you mumble, taking the Switch from him. Benji adjusts and sits more upright against the couch, but you stay lying against his warm torso. He’s got such a welcoming body, like all of him was made just so, for you alone. His belly is soft for you to snuggle, and warm for you to warm your hands against. His shoulders are broad and there for you to cry on, and his heart beats calmly to steady your own. His beard is there to tickle your inner thighs and your cheeks when he’s kissing your face or your pussy. His fingers fit in between yours like they’re puzzle pieces. He’s yours, in a way. Your Benji. You think he was always your Benji, always meant for you. 

Benji lets you play the game for a couple of minutes, and he finds that as you get lost in it, you start to relax. He worries about you and the tension you carry in your shoulders and your jaw, you know. Because it’s always there, right? Always lingering, until he brings you close and you just…melt against him, just like you’re supposed to. Benji lures you in and relaxes you in these clever little ways, by having you play quiet, mindless games and by stroking your hair until you calm. 

He kisses your head and notes the way your breathing slows, how your shoulders drop a little. Benji’s hands slide down your body and he tugs your shirt up a little, and rubs his palms over all that soft, bare skin. 

Benji draws circles on your abdomen with his middle finger, with a hangnail gently dragging against your skin. His hands are like that, always. Overworked and rough and calloused, but so soft in their own way. Like a sweatshirt gone through the wash too many times, where the inside of the fabric is all rough and pilled but so fucking warm and cozy. Or a child’s stuffed animal, loved to the point of charming disfigurement. A missing tail, sewn on with thread that doesn’t match the color of the body. Eye paint rubbed off, drawn on again in Sharpie. 

Benji’s hand slips beneath the waistband of your sweatpants, and you gasp when you feel him playing with your pubic hair. “Hey, wait - Benji.” 

“Hm?” Benji hums softly. “Want me to stop? I can stop.”

You shake your head. “No, I want–” you begin, then trail off into a stutter. “I want it, I just - it’s - I can’t…y’know. Lately.”

“Can’t what, dude?” 

You pause before answering. “Cum,” you admit, finally. 

“That’s bullshit.” 

“It’s not bullshit, it’s true,” you argue. “I’m just…yeah, I don’t know. Broken or something.” Broken, yeah. That’s a good way to put it. Broken, like you’re a misfit toy or something. 

“Okaaaay,” Benji drawls. “But I’m handy.” 

You scoff. “Well yeah, sure, with opening jars and whatever but you can’t–”

“Let me try, though?”

You’ve heard those words before. Benji’s infuriatingly adept at fixing shit, because he is exactly what he says he is: handy. He’s great at hanging pictures and adjusting the screws in your glasses and whatever else. And usually how it goes is Benji finds you getting all huffy and pissy about something broken and fucked up, and you tell him you’ve got it, or that it’s fucked forever. And Benji goes ‘can you just let me try?’ and whatever’s broken is then fixed. Wrongs are righted, because Benji’s handy.

He’s a bit of a jack of all trades, and a whisperer of everything. Benji’s got this special way about himself where things just sort of go his way. He charms a lot of people, and even animals, too. There’s this feral cat that’s been coming around for the past seven months or so, and she wants fuck all to do with you, but Benji, well. She’s Benji’s girl. He sits outside with a can of tuna to lure her close, then gives her belly rubs in a patch of sunlight until she wanders off again. Benji says he’s playing the long game, that he’s gonna get that cat one of these days. He says he’s gonna bring her inside and turn her into his familiar or some shit. 

You sigh and part your legs, making more room for Benji. He adjusts you so he can reach your pussy a little better, and you move the Switch out of the way to watch how he touches you. “No, don’t - don’t look at what I’m doing. I’m not here,” he tells you. “Just play your game.”

You sigh deeply. “It’s not gonna happen, Benj.” 

“Uh huh, well, shut up. Positive mental attitude.”

Benji waits for you to start playing again, and then his fingers find your seam. He slides them low, feeling you out. You’re not wet yet, and not particularly warmed up, so he licks his fingers, and hums at the taste of you. 

“Pervert,” you whisper, earning a chuckle from him. He touches you again with slick fingers, simply dragging them up and down your folds, sometimes passing over your clit. You wriggle a little and push yourself against him, letting out soft sighs as he touches you. 

“Shh,” Benji whispers. “Relax, dude.” 

Benji patiently works you up, and he feels satisfied with himself when he gets you to drip. You’re using your hips to follow his hand, and you’re sighing his name when he pushes his fingers inside your entrance. In and out, in and out, slowly teasing you. 

“Benji,” you whine, arching your back a little. 

“I got you.” Benji kisses the side of your head. “M’right here, dude. Not going anywhere.” 

He fucks you on his fingers, then rubs your clit for a moment or two, alternating between both actions. He knows what your problem is, and it’s impatience. He can feel it in the way you chase his touch, and he can hear it in your frustrated little noises. You’ve tensed all up again, too. “Try not to force it, okay?”

“I’m not, I just–” you huff, restless and already annoyed. 

“I know - hey, I know. It’s not a race and I’m not going anywhere, so just…yeah, yeah, perfect.” Benji smiles, happy when you settle against him again, all that strain melting away again. “Attagirl.” 

You’re having trouble focusing on the game as Benji touches you, but you’re trying to follow his instructions. It’s all made worse as he kisses your ear over and over, drawing the tip of his nose over it, too. You’re close, and release is right around the corner if you let it come. So you drop your game and roll your hips in time with his ministrations, breathing heavily, chasing that special feeling. And it’s right there - you are right fucking there, and then it’s gone, like the memory of a dream vanishing when you open your eyes. 

You groan loudly and cover your face, feeling tears prick your eyes. They build quickly and fall down your cheeks, and fuck - you feel so fucking pathetic, crying over this. You scoff when you watch Benji pull his hands away, but he pays your attitude no mind. 

For fuck’s sake. It’s been hours - no, days, you realize. Because you couldn’t fuck yourself earlier, and not yesterday, and not the days before that and–

“C’mere,” Benji murmurs, pulling you a little closer against him. He tugs the sleeve of his hoodie over his hand and wipes your cheeks and your nose. “It’s okay, man.”

“It’s not, though,” you tell him, choking on a sob. You sniffle and gasp as you cry, feeling worse about yourself as Benji continues to dry your tears. He’s not mocking you, but it’s hard not to feel mocked when your own body is doing such a thing to you. 

“I know, I know, I know. You’re all fucked up, huh?”

You don’t answer Benji, and he doesn’t mind. He lets you cry it out for a while, patiently, silently. Lets you have your little temper tantrum. You poor thing, all out of sorts. He scratches up and down your arms until you quiet yourself, and those wet sniffles of yours have spaced themselves out. 

“Hey.” Benji taps you. “Look at me.” You turn and look at him, met with his kind and empathetic eyes. Benji pushes some hair out of your face and rubs your swollen, sticky cheeks with his thumbs. “I know you’re upset, but you can’t get all worked up like this,” he tells you quietly, noting how you look away. Benji turns your face gently, bringing you back to him. “Hm? Right?”

“M’guess.”

Benji nods. “Yeah, because that’s half the problem,” he says, matter of factly.

You’re annoyed at his tone, and you’re mad because he’s right. Angrily, you argue. It’s instinctual. “But you fucking–”

He shakes his head, cutting you off. “Nope, cool the fuck off, dude. I’m on your side,” he says, encouraging you to take a breath for a beat. “We’re gonna figure it out,” he says softly, wiping the last of your tears away. “Yeah?” You shrug as you sniffle, hesitant to agree, so Benji tries again. “Hm? Yeah? You wanna keep being a baby or do you wanna party?” he asks, poking you in the ribs until you break into a giggle. 

“Fine. But I’m not a baby.”

“Mm. Crying like one, though, aren’t ya?”

You say nothing as you flip back over, but Benji laughs behind you. His hands slide beneath your pants again, and he’s back to teasing you. You’re still nice and wet and swollen, and you’ll cum for him so long as you don’t get all in your head again. Just breathe, dude. It’s gonna be okay.

Benji’s got two fingers inside you, curling against your g-spot, and he’s using his other hand to rub your clit in tight, steady little circles. He can feel that sensitive part of you twitch, and he knows by the way you’ve gone quiet that you are right there. “I got you. You can do it,” he coos. “Doing so fuckin’ good, kid. Like that, just like that. Just let it come to you, let it happen...” 

You squeeze your eyes shut as the pleasure builds, chasing that little spark until you feel it wash over you. Fuck, it’s everywhere, coursing through your veins and making your muscles tense and release, rippling through your body in waves. Benji fucks you through it, his fingers never faltering until you tell him you’re done, enough, enough. 

You flip back over on your belly and hug him tightly, breathing heavily as you come down. Jesus, you’re fucking crying, still. You’re relieved to have cum, even more so to know that you’re not broken like you called yourself earlier.

“See? I knew you’d fuckin’ do it,” Benji says softly, rubbing your back. He laughs when you tell him to shut up.

And you stay like that for five minutes, ten minutes, fifteen. Drifting off into a well-earned nap as Benji strokes your hair and scratches your scalp. “Hey, you. You gonna return the favor? Aren’t you supposed to - I don’t know, you pay it forward or some shit, right? Hm?” He adjusts so that you’re not putting so much pressure on his cock, left all stiff and aching. “No? Just gonna leave me high and dry to nap on me?” 

“Mm.”

“Ohhkay, you fuckin’ dick. That’s fine. Just don’t be all fuckin’...whatever when you wake up and my cock’s in your–” 

You’re already snoring, you fucking asshole. But whatever. Benji giggles and kisses the top of your head, then picks up where you left off in Unpacking. 

you know the drill :) reblog and dirty talk me in my inbox. love ya :)

[rabbits-bad-habit]

Ollie is the kind of person that has you craving the aftercare more than the sex

[rabbits-bad-habit]

I don’t even like Final Destination. But that fucking man is on my mind.

[rabbits-bad-habit]

With The Windows Open - Ollie Sway/GN Reader

The weather outside is perfect, but no amount of pretty scenery can keep you and Ollie from cutting your lake day short and moving things inside.

TW: Smut, reader has AFAB anatomy but no gendered terms are used, p in v, cowgirl, praise, one single second of foreplay cuz y’all are eager, Ollie being in love as always except you are also this time, so fluffy actually

A/N: I feel it’s easy to tell if someone has actually had sex based off how they write it and I feel it’s very clear in mine. Off topic ik but I just feel like you can tell. Absolutely.

Warm, sunny, empty blue sky. A breeze that kept even when you were stood still. Birds calling into the open air, filling the lake’s atypical silence. A perfect day to be outside, out on the water, but instead you and Ollie found yourself inside. You’d made an honest effort to take advantage of the nice weather, really you had spent hours out there. You had set off with a blanket and some food, not forgetting a handheld radio. The intention had been to find some nice spot to have a picnic, but in the end neither of you could focus on anything but each other.

Back and forth lovey language that dipped into the erotic, teases that left both of you flustered, leading to hands in places they almost shouldn’t be. It went on from the time you left the house for the dock, until the time Ollie finally called it and decided you were heading back. Even though he knew no one could see you where you were going, hell no one could see you at all this far out on the lake, he also knew exactly where this was going, and he didn’t need to be worrying about silly things like onlookers when his mind should be entirely focused on you. So you were gone before the day had even started, rushing up the hill lest indecency if either of you had waited any longer, it was barely past noon.

Back at the house in no time, the lovely breeze flowing in through all of the still open windows. Shoes and shirts thrown down in the hall, sweet laughter bouncing between the slim walls as the two of you fumbled into the closest bedroom to the door. It was a relief just for him to run a hand over your waist to keep you from falling as he led you to the edge of the bed. He naturally stepped into the space between your legs and your fingers wrapped their way around his curls, pulling so gently in an attempt to get him closer to you. Even if he was surely as close as he was going to get, the both of you were well worked up. You would have dropped to your knees and begged if it meant you could get close to him at that moment, though, he'd never make you do such a thing.

The hand on your waist trailed up and over your ribs, feeling over your warm skin. Appreciating each soft sound between your sweet kisses. He loved how perfectly your lips fit against his, how  easy it was. He could have sat there and kissed you, letting his hands roam. Enjoying the feeling of his lips attache’d to yours for hours. However, those plans were cut short when you reache’d for his belt and tugged at the buckle, his upsized jeans quickly falling without it. 

Ollie pulled back, chuckling at the absurdity of his own baggy clothes. Your eagerness, which matche’d his, was cute. He loved that you wanted him just as much as he wanted you. He stepped to the side, kicking his jeans toward the end of the bed, and slipping out of the camouflage t-shirt he never seemed to stop wearing. You couldn’t help but admire how pretty he was, how his strong body looked cast in nothing but the natural light. Pure intended eyes scanning over his body over and over while he removed the garment.

“What?” He asked, grinning the way he always did when he got embarrassed, flustered. A soft laugh in the question. He would’ve shied away if it was anyone but you. Would have taken your staring as something less loving, overthought it the more you looked, but he knew you. You let him feel in control, be in control. You made him feel strong, at the least when he was alone with you like this. He knew that he’d taken you right with him when he had fallen head over heels.

You folded your knees under yourself, making yourself closer to his standing height from where you sat on the bed. You grabbed the cotton shirt from him and tossed it wherever it went, you’d waited long enough. The patience you usually had with him was simply gone now that you were looking at him. He stumbled over his feet as you suddenly pulled him in by his shoulders and connected your lips with a need that he hadn’t yet noticed.

Ollie hummed, content hands finding their way under your shirt. Feeling over your chest and stomach, softly grabbing at the available skin with fervor. Letting his fingers explore every inch he could reach, focusing more on the gasps you let out when he ran over your sides or approache’d your hips. Relishing in the knowledge that he could get such a reaction from you with something so simple.

Eventually he slid your shirt off, a bit rougher than intended, leaving you bare up top. His mouth quickly attache’d to the now open skin, leaving light kisses down your neck until he got to your chest. He found a few spots to suck and bite at, leaving behind soft marks just under your collarbone. Small red marks that would soon turn purple while you continued your antics. It wasnt often he left marks like that, but there was something about the way your breathing hitche’d and your hands ran through his hair that made the temptation irresistible.

He looked over your body, smiling at his work before pulling you back in. Kiss almost frantic, deep and breathy. It caught you somewhat off guard, taking a second to register his lips on yours, and the way his tongue snuck into your mouth. Grabbing at each other like it was forbidden, still attempting to get as close as possible. Teeth clashing and tongues sliding against one another with a tone that could only be described as hunger. Ollie nearly felt his knees buckle.

You both pulled back, basically panting. Comfortable silence in the room as Ollie finally rid himself of his boxers, you were ready to jump when you saw him nude. Practically drooling from how badly you just wanted him. He took his place next to you on the bed. His cock was painfully hard, he couldn’t hold off any longer than he already had. Even if he hadnt worked his hands over you like he normally would. All the same, normally, you both werent so unbelievably needy. You shuffled out of your own undergarments while he hoisted himself up against the headboard.

The breeze coming in from the still open window was cold against your unclothe’d back, but his hands were warm. He held onto your waist to guide you forward until your cunt was right above his cock, he swore he could feel your warmth from there. Maybe he was getting ahead of himself, imagining things. He couldn’t help it, he wanted to be inside of you so badly that it hurt. Wanted to hear your gasps of pleasure as he pushe’d himself into you more than anything.

Ollie just watched as you settled, breathing already bordering on heavy. You had a knee on either side of him and both of your hands were flat palmed on his chest to keep you steady. He looked up at you so sweetly, desperately wanting things to move along, but wanting you to be comfortable more. He could have pulled you down by your hips, or begged, or sweet talked his way into getting you to move faster but he knew how much more enjoyable it would be if he just let you do as you needed.

“This okay?” He asked, quiet. He knew it was, you would have pulled him somewhere else if the position wasnt okay. It was in his nature to double check, to triple check. Just to make sure. Usually when he got this worked up he would take the lead entirely, not even let you get the chance to do any of the work, but it didnt feel as natural then. His need wasnt just for pleasure, it was for you. He wanted to see what you’d do, be able to watch so closely. Let you set the pace for once, at least until you said otherwise.

You simply nodded. Eyes trailed downwards, where Ollie went to grab hold of his cock, keeping it steady for you. You shifted your hips downward, allowing him to guide his absolutely leaking tip inside of you. The both of you moaned at the feeling, unable to help it, finally getting what you’d wanted since you’d woken up that morning. The slight stretch was exactly what you had been looking for, exactly what you had been thinking about all morning. The only thing that you could think about was getting more, nearly giving into temptation and impaling yourself all at once without a second thought.

You knew you needed a bit of time, and you knew Ollie would just scold you if you did, so you endured. Slowly sinking yourself down onto his cock, feeling your insides adjust to him. Your thighs shook and those flat hands became fists. Ollie’s breathing got short and sharp, watching every tiny chance in your facial expression. The warmth from your body was all encompassing as you took him in, it overrode any thought he had.

“There you go.” He cooed, so quiet you’d think he was speaking to himself. The hand that had been guiding his cock found your thigh, no longer needed there. Rubbing the softest circles into the skin. Not sure if teasing, affection, or encouragement, it only added to the drip that came from your cunt. After a few moments, he was entirely sheathe’d inside you, throbbing against your walls. Keeping as still as possible, besides the movement of his hand on your thigh.

His cock fit so nicely inside of you, nestled in so perfectly. The feeling of complete fullness felt less erotic, and more intimate. Less the usual vulgarity, rather an underlying sense of softness. Devotion. Overwhelming in a way that almost made you emotional. It was cheesy, and he knew it, but Ollie thought maybe you were made for him. The two of you were always meant to fit this way, you always felt best when you were together.

The sappy thoughts were quickly interrupted by your soft moans as your brain began to fog, and you had gotten used to his weight inside of you. He just watched, waiting for you to make a move before he made any effort to help, even if he wanted nothing more than to grab your hips and guide them into his. Your hands clammed for his shoulders in an attempt at offsetting the pressure before you felt confident enough to move. This earned a breathy laugh from Ollie, an utterly adoring grin on his face. 

“Fuck, please-“ You breathe’d, speaking more to the room itself than to him. Face burying into the crook of his neck, pulling him closer, despite your already plastered proximity. The hand at your waist trailed up your back, running over your spine in a soothing manner. You shuttered in response, quickly becoming aware of how little you were getting, and somehow it was getting to be too much. His soft touches were simply not cutting it.

“Please what? You’re the one doin’ all the work here.” He teased, a tone in his voice that only served to make you more desperate. You whined and he grinned, even if you couldn’t have seen. He knew he could do something, he also knew when to step in. When to take over. He couldn’t deny how cute it was. You had all the power and yet you were still begging for him. Like it was simply your nature.

“Ollie-” You groaned, playfully annoyed at his teasing. Swatting your hand pitifully at his shoulder before resting your fist where it was priorly grasped. You knew you could just ask if you wanted him to fuck you, you knew he absolutely would, but it felt so nice where you already were. You lifted your hips some before falling back down. You repeated this a few times, small gasps coming from your lips and occasional encouragement from Ollie as you built up a good rhythm. He could only watch with lust filled eyes, fingers still brushing over the middle of your back.

You got to rocking your hips into his at a reasonable pace, every self imposed thrust hitting you like a jolt through the hips. He moaned lowly, one hand sliding down to your hips where his fingers gripped the available flesh, using all of the restraint he had not to lead you into a harder pace. You were already so deeply connected, and yet, all he could think about was getting more. More of you. Engrossing himself in every single part of you.

His other hand cupped your cheek, forcing you to face him despite your eyes struggling to stay pried open. Looking over your face, adoring. As if he, too, wasn’t moments away from falling apart beneath you. He just had to get a good look at you as you fell into the same bliss he was. Panting and moaning with you, looking into your eyes even if you couldn’t look back. He always kept deep eye contact with you when you were so intimate, at times it felt like he could see straight to the core of your being when he did it. Like he knew exactly what you could ever need without ever saying a word. Reassuring, not intimidating.

Subtly, as you continued attempting to bounce yourself on his cock, Ollie started slowly rolling his hips with yours. Helping, even if not asked. He couldn’t help himself, you were driving him crazy and the almost idle pressure of your walls around his dick simply wasnt enough. He was going to give in to something primal if he held himself back from the sound of skin on skin any longer.

You were whining, and clutching at him. He could tell you were just as in need by now. Craving him just as much. You had both waited long enough, you had been near pouncing on each other all day. He thought you deserved release, the rush of good chemicals. He wanted to see it, it was the only thing on his mind.

“Need some help?” He asked. Attempting to try and sound cocky, confident, only ended up sending his words through the whine in his throat. You nodded frantically, unashamed at how long it had taken for him to break you down. How quickly you were falling into usual routine. “Okay- Fuck, yeah. Okay.” Voice breathy, he couldn’t have stopped himself from giving you what you wanted now that he had an explicit go-ahead.

He wrapped his arms around the back of your waist, hoisting himself up straighter and pulling himself further into you. The new angle allowed for him to thrust up into you. You immediately fell apart in his hands, going limp against him. Hands clutching for his shoulders, shrill cries filling the room with every movement he made.

His cock slipped in and out of you with ease, the lewd sound of your own wetness only spurring him on. You shivered as the feeling racked through your body, the combination of his hands tightly on his hips and his strained groans that fell into the side of your neck utterly addicting. Rough skin against soft, overwhelmingly satisfying. It was the exact thing you’d wanted, exactly what you needed from him.

You called his name, whined under your breath, and he just hushe’d you. Sent strings of reassurance tumbling from his mouth. Big hands pulled you closer, noticing that you had entirely stopped moving by now. Before you knew it he had you on your back, gasping loudly at your bare skin hitting the cold sheets. Sweet, soft, laughter passed between your lips as he pulled you back into a kiss.

You could feel each others heavy breath. His thrusts became less uniform, and with the change in position, you could feel every one deep in your core. Leaking tip hitting the most sensitive spots inside of you, grip on his shoulders only getting tighter. It was easy to tell you weren’t lasting much longer, but neither was he.

“So good-” He gasped, smile on his face as you looked back at each other in the throes of utmost pleasure. Sweet intimacy that could only be given by the other. The sight of your smile always tripped him up, if nothing else could get him to finishing it would be that. The lazy grin you shot back at him when you were with him like this, graciously taking what he gave you. He was utterly enamored. “You are gorgeous, my love.”

“Says you, pretty boy.” You teased back, choking on your words through his unrelenting pace. He chuckled, letting his head fall against your shoulder. Breathing in your smell, knowing he’s safe with you. Your little certainly not helping his impending orgasm, which only drew closer. He held off to the best of his ability, wanting so desperately to cum with you.

Luckily, he didnt have to wait long, feeling your muscles tighten around his cock and your grip tighten uncontrollably. Your soft, pleased, moans getting louder. He could tell you were right up on the same edge he was, quickly finding your way over. Waiting impatiently to fall in, allow each other to feel so much good at once.

“You close?” He panted. So determined, wanting nothing more than to feel you come undone around him. Jaw tensed, anticipation creeping up his spine. So pleased when you nodded, he couldn’t stand it. He knew it wouldn’t take much, it didnt. “Cum with me? Please?”

His asking so nicely put you right over that edge, throwing you into such a well deserved orgasm. Just a few more sloppy, heavy, thrusts and so was he. Burying his cock as far inside of you as he could get it, filling every inch of your body.  Hands shaking as he spilled into you, deep groans complimenting all the pretty sounds you were making that he couldn’t tear his focus from. So loud he was sure someone was going to hear through the open window.

The two of you sat there against each other, panting for a few moments. Appreciating the warmth, the dizzying tingle across your skin that faded slowly while you came down from the high. Ollie could barely keep himself up, but he couldn’t bring himself to detach from you just yet. He could have done that ten times over, watching you twitch and moan and call for him all damn day. However that plan would have to wait for another day, you were both absolutely exhausted. 

He pulled out, cum dripping from you and onto the sheets. The sight nearly made him jump you all over again. The temptation to lick you clean so strong it took all of his willpower to keep himself from driving you into overstimulating with no warning. He probably should have properly cleaned you up, made sure no mess was made, but he was too content with his body attache’d to yours. The sheets could be washe’d, later.

For now, he watched your eyes blink closed as he fell onto his side next to you and pulled you oh-so close into his chest. There was a small smile on your face and you near immediately wrapped your leg over both of his. It was so comfortable, sweet. The love he felt for you could have been bottled, looking over your soft, tired, features like he was trying to commit your face to memory.

Ollie was so sentimental after sex. So appreciative. What did he do to deserve you? To deserve to have such a once in a lifetime individual in his bed? Sometimes it felt like he’d manipulated you into loving him, or made you believe he was something he wasn’t, but every time you clung onto him. Whimpered his name, begged him for more, wanted to be as entangled as humans could be. He knew. You felt it just as strongly as he did.

“We should probably get cleaned up.” He sighe’d, wanting to move just as little as did. He knew it would be for the better and it was important, but he truly didn’t want to. The idea of getting out of bed and going through the motions was certainly not appearing. Why do that when he could stay with his sexy partner draped over him? “I could get a shower going, and then maybe dinner later?” He offered.

You just shook your head. Leaning further into him, you whined lightheartedly. There was nothing he could say that was going to get you out of this bed. You would only grip onto him tighter, like a koala to a tree. You wouldn’t have ever left his side if you could. “Or we could take a nap now and do all of that later.” You bargained.

“You should be glad you’re cute, because you’re a bad influence.” He smiled, wrapping his arms around your back and pulling you even closer to his chest. He dragged a blanket from the end of the bed up and over the both of you, making sure you had a longer side in case he tossed or turned. You snuggled into his warmth, feeling yourself drift off already. “Now get comfortable before I change my mind.” 

[rabbits-bad-habit]

Am I the only one that hates when someone is writing NSFW headcanons about a character and they include something like "would always perform aftercare" or "never fails to give good aftercare"?

Because like? Yeah?? I would hope so??? That's like. Mandatory.

[rabbits-bad-habit]

Just Take - Kappa/GN Reader

Kappa takes your virginity, hoping to break you a bit in the process.

TW: Smut, reader has AFAB anatomy but no gendered terms are used, oral sex, fingering, p in v, size difference and by association pain, loss of virginity, kinda soft actually, Kappa being manipulative ofc

A/N: I couldn't think of a good synopsis for this bc I genuinely didn't know what I was writing until I had written it lol. He's so gross, he makes me feel disgusting. I love it.

It was going to hurt. No matter how much time Kappa gave to you, no matter how soft he attempted to be, the sting was going to be present and prominent at that. Not your fault, far from it, you can only do so much when compared to him. You were not the first. You wouldn't be the last either. The adjustment period was something he expected, something he was looking forward to. One of the many things he had told you about in advance.

He had taken many, taken the innocence of many. He knew his own body and he knew how to work it to the utmost advantage. Not that he had to try much to begin with. He’d warned you, he really had. You had the same answer every time he brought it up. You could handle it, you could take whatever he gave you. He could tell you couldn't. He agreed, knowing by now you knew what you were getting into. Who was he to deny a sweet thing the reward they had clearly worked up to; earned. You knew yourself, it was your body after all, not his. Not yet, at least.

Kappa had you pinned to his silk-sheeted bed, his eccentricity decorated room a much familiar sight by now. Despite the excitement and arousal spreading through your body, it was easy to feel the nerves creeping in just as heavy. You had never done this before, let alone with him. Not that he’d never invited you into his bed, there was no lack of exploration, but this was new ground. It felt like you were doing something important with someone important. You put your trust in him, of course you did. Why wouldn't you? There was no avoiding the faint nervousness, though.

He removed your clothes with ease, sliding each garment off like he had done it a hundred times before. Quiet murmuring about how he should have done this sooner. Cursing under his breath as he took a look over your nude body. Firm, soft and subtle possession in every movement he made. He had never said a word about it, no discussion was made, but you knew he was in charge. You knew he had the control. It was nice, in a way, it felt natural to submit to him. You wanted to let him have control.

He had made an honest attempt to get your body ready for what was to come. Truly, he had. He put genuine care into you, something he didn't make an effort with for partners he had no intention of keeping. Care, affection, thought besides minimizing harm. He had spent a half hour forcing you over the edge, giving you as much attention as it would take. Picking your slick up on his tongue, letting it drip down onto the deepest parts of his fingers. Touching and grabbing at every inch of your exposed skin.

It was never going to be enough, not really. He drove himself dizzy with his head between your thighs, and replaced all of your thoughts with the feeling of his lips on your skin. The warmth of his breath. There was no longer room for nerves when he finally freed his cock from the cotton that concealed it. He never wore anything under his clothes. Convenient.

All of his previous warnings and comments echoed in your fogged mind while you looked him over. Kappa was never one to lie, not flat out. Not to you, anyway, but you thought he had to have been exaggerating his size when he went on about it so much. When he mentioned it every time you even brought up the idea of having sex with him. You had simply assumed, but you were wrong. He hadn't been.

It wasn't overly unrealistic, still big. Startling to see in front of you, especially compared to your own body. Knowing what you had agreed to. It ended just below his belly button, thick and veiny. Pale, a contrast to the naturally tanned skin of the rest of his body. Even just getting your hands on it had been intimidating and he stopped you before you could even think of attempting to put your mouth on him.

Politely declining, that's not your job tonight. You will get your chance, but not now. That's not what now was about. He led you back until you were laying flat, head hitting one of the dozen pillows he always had piled at the headboard. Soft movements from hands with such rough skin, putting you exactly where he needed you. “Just lay back.” He had said, assuring and simple. “Just take.”

His cock was painfully hard and it only got worse as he watched as you settled in where you were. Adjusting your position so you were just-so. Comfortable. Looking back at him with deep trust, waiting so patiently for him to give you something so highly considered. So culturally sacred. Just because he did it often didn't mean he took it lightly. It was part of the appeal, someone deciding to let him do such a thing, take such a thing.

He tried his best to go slow, be as gentle as his physique would allow. Pushing into you with such hesitation, shushing your whines in a way that felt just as sneering as it did genuine. He barely got the first inch behind your begrudgingly accepting walls before you were clutching at him. Watching your eyes squeeze shut, each minute tense of muscle in your face. Watching you react without any further thought.

You clawed at the shirt he still had on. The fabric snagged on your nails but you didn't seem to notice, Kappa simply didn't care. Holes in a shirt was worth the feeling of impaling you on his cock. Your tight, wet, warmth an almost overwhelming feeling to him. The sweetest whimpers coming one after the other, tumbling past your lips with every further movement he made.

The stretch was bordering on too much. You adjusted your hips to accommodate the girth, and at that, it was still a struggle. He was mumbling something to you, reassurance, but it was hard to make out a word of it when you were being brought right up to your limit. Not over, no lines being pushed. Not too much, but nearly. You could handle it, not well, but you could handle it. You would make yourself, at least.

By the time he had himself down to the hilt, entirely sheathed, you were already falling apart. Every breath bringing short whimpers into the room, quieted by the fabric draping the walls. Grasping onto Kappa as though you would entirely lose yourself if you no longer made contact. He couldn't help but laugh at you, at how easy it was to get you into such a state. He knew you, he knew you wouldn't hold up as well as you talked. All bark, no bite. The mental image of what he had in front of him now is exactly what got him to pursue you in the first place.

“You doin’ okay, angel?” He questioned, a smug grin on his lips that said ‘i told you so’ even if you couldn't see it through your still shut eyes. You nodded frantically, afraid he may back off if you didn't make it clear enough. He wouldn't. He wouldn't stop unless you told him to. So he continued despite your prematurely fucked out nature. He pulled his hips back slowly, drinking in the beautiful moan it had earned him.

The pace was at first slow, and as forgiving as he could make it, just as he had promised. The drag of his thick cock along your insides was unlike anything you'd felt before, a sting followed every shallow thrust. Being reminded to relax, your tense muscles making it near impossible for even him to focus. He wondered how much longer until you found tears in your eyes, how much longer after that would you tap out.

“I know, it’s a lot, huh?” He mused, dripping in insincerity. Almost mocking. His words just barely registered in your mind, and you could only whine in reply. He was mumbling, rambling. He knew you were more occupied with other things to listen, he just wanted to hear himself talk.  Wanted you to feel the hum of his voice, even if you simply couldn't catch a word of it. “You're takin’ it, though.”

He kept going, thrusts becoming deeper, longer. Less careful as the feeling got less overbearing, less sharp. Enjoyment not exclusively coming from how much he stretched your cunt, but rather the deep places he hit. Every single time he sunk down into you, his dick was brushing against every inch of your insides. Even if the pain was becoming nothing more but background noise, the overwhelm was not. You were beyond sensitive, and he was playing it up as much as he possibly could.

Eventually you had gotten comfortable enough to unlatch your claws from his shirt and allow your eyes to fall back open. It wasn't long before they found new space to grab in the sheets and pillows under your head. Cute. You just couldn't go one second without needing something to hold onto. Needing something to offset the feeling of being as full as your body would allow.

You looked up to see Kappa, hair in his face. Eyes trained downwards to where the two of you met, where his cock was buried. The way you seemed to effortlessly swallow him whole, graciously. It gave him an almost primal feeling. Knowing how much of a struggle it truly was, the imagery being so easy only encouraged him further. Only tempted him into breaking you down. Showing you how much you didn't know you had needed him. Until you needed him.

Not tonight, not now. This was not about his desires, his need to keep you where you were. No, this was about laying the groundwork to get you there. Open your mind to how good it felt to be utterly ruined by him. How much you've been missing out on by staying away from sex for so long. How much he just adored you, the way your mouth fell open every time his cock hit that little spot that made you lightheaded. How much he loved your repetition of “please” as he continued overwhelming your body.

He gradually sped up, slowly working you up to a pace that was nothing short of painful. Steadily making you need more, asking for more. He switched the placement of his own hands. One hand settling onto the carved wooden headboard above, giving him extra leverage. The other gripping your thigh with a bit more force than you'd expected of him, thumb just barely rubbing circles into the soft skin it could reach.

There was no slowing at this point, you were so engrossed in him you couldn't even think to tear yourself away. No matter how much the weight of his cock dragging against your inside stung, no matter how much it hurt the first time he let himself hit your cervix. You wanted him to do it again. He knew you would once you felt the ache. Exactly as he had instructed, you laid back and took it. So, so, well.

The hand on your thigh explored higher as he heard your whines only increase in frequency. He could tell you were getting close to that edge in what felt like no time at all. Your cunt fluttered around him, and you were subconsciously meeting your hips with his. He let out a drawn moan at the feeling. Could you even tell you were so dangerously close to release? He wasn't sure, but he was determined to give it to you whether you caught on or not.

You all but yelped when he slid his middle two fingers over your clit. He used them softly, running them over the soft slick skin carefully. The new pressure causing that knot in your core to tighten, so close but not quite enough. Pleas tumbled from your mouth, interrupted by Kappa’s reassurance. Despite his composure, his breath was heavy and his voice was low, from the back of his throat. “Yeah, I hear you. S’nice, isn't it?”

Once again you found your hands making fists in his clothing, pulling him as close as he could let you. Your release was approaching and quickly. Kappa attempted to keep his pace as steady as possible, watching you writhe beneath him. Watching every sweet facial expression that flashed across your features, knowing every second he spent buried so deeply inside of you was valuable time. He couldn't help but chuckle, you were being claimed from the inside out and you didn't even know it.

“You've got me. Come on, sugar.” He encouraged, tone void of the mocking it had thus far. Letting out his own groans, masked by the sounds you were making. You were something else, taking the slam to your guts and asking for more. Tripping him up, catching him off guard. He wanted to see you fall to pieces on his cock. Needed it.

Before you could even think, you felt yourself being thrown over the edge and into such a dizzying orgasm. Back arching away from the mattress, voice pitching so high you could no longer be heard. He praised and shushed you, but you couldn't tell. It didn't help when it all crashed over you, stimulation going from not enough to too much in a matter of seconds. You felt like you had entirely drifted away from earth and it wasn't easy to come back down when you still had Kappa’s entire length keeping you full. 

No word about it, but you would learn. It was Kappa’s job to decide when you've had enough. Now that he had a taste of what you could handle, he couldn't help but want to toy with you some. Initially, he'd planned to be kind. To release you and deal with himself but now, looking at your twitching figure, he had to test your limits. Push you, see when you would tap. You would truly impress him if you could go the mile on your first try. That would be a real first.

You could. You didn't know it, but you could, and you did. Whimpering through the delicious pain of overstimulation. Kappa had given you one grace, and held his touch from your now so sensitive clit, making the continued contact the slightest bit easier. Each pained sound you made fueled him. You were enjoying it, drinking in the all encompassing feeling. It was hot, real fucking hot.

It only took a minute or two for him to follow, crashing into his own release through the frantic thrust of his hips. Stilling his dick deep and spilling his cum deep inside of you. Soft groans complimenting quiet swears, hands clamping down on what he was holding. His usual unaffected facade broke through as he recovered.

He sat back on his knees, combing a hand through his hair to get it out of his face. His chest heaved with each deep breath. You had made a dent in him, that's for sure. Nothing close to what he had done to you, however. Flushed, limp arms thrown over your red face now that you had no reason to hang onto the things around you. Barely keeping your eyes open, your lower half feeling used in a way that you could only yearn to hold onto. You were entirely spent.

“You held up!” Kappa praised, running a hand over your sweat-slick hair. He planted himself next to you, and firmly pulled your back towards his chest. Voice low, laced with soft possession, allure. “You, my dear, are staying with me.”  

[rabbits-bad-habit]

No Distractions - Ollie Sway/GN Reader

Ollie's putting away records, and he has been for ages, but you need attention. He gives in, however, maybe not quite in the way you were hoping for.

TW: Smut, reader has AFAB anatomy but no gendered terms are used, p in v, cock-warming, praise/encouragement, angel sub reader, service top Ollie, Ollie is so in love, author is self indulgent about it the whole time

A/N: I hope we can tell I like Ollie, he is literally on my mind at all times. Also hate that cock-warming this fucker is one of my go-to fantasies. Get outta my head, boy.

As of this afternoon, Ollie had been unreachable. He had just gotten a new unit for his turntable, and he was utterly obsessed. Big pretty shelving unit for all of his important albums, made of a nice sturdy wood. A good piece, something he was rightfully excited about. He and Nikolai had taken time to themselves, splitting a bottle of wine and putting the thing together. That was hours ago, back when the sun was up, and yet Ollie was seated in the same spot he was when Nik had left. He was so engrossed in his task that he hadn't eaten lunch or dinner, and despite telling you he would come outside and spend some time in the nice weather, he never showed. In fact, you hadn't seen him since he promised to meet you on the porch. You just heard another album be put under the needle, and eventually flipped. 

You had found yourself needy. It wasn't a usual occurrence for the two of you to be so quiet with each other, you couldn't help how your thoughts wandered when he had better things to do. Figuring that you weren't going to speak to your boyfriend unless you met him where he was, you headed to the living room, but not before slipping on one of his shirts in place of pajamas. When you walked in, you found stacks of records, boxes, and slips all over the floor, Ollie in the middle of it all like the mayor of his little vinyl city. He put a record on that he knew you liked, and you got to talking. More him talking about the albums he was organizing, and you increasingly becoming touchy. Part of him would have preferred you'd stayed behind him on the couch, as your hands proved to slow down his work, but he wasn't going to say a single thing about it. He couldn't help but feel himself grow worked up by your presence.

Eventually he caught on, noticing how you pawed at his body, and your attention struggled to stay on the records and instead closely kept on his hands. However, he was in total work mode, determined to finish what he had started. Mind tracked entirely on getting every record where it should be on the shelf before he did anything else. He proceeded to act oblivious until he weaseled it out of you that you were just wanting contact, and would have been content with cuddles. Less wanting pleasure, more so just a need to be close after he was so wrapped up in his music all day. He would have simply said you could sit in his lap while he continued, but he could tell that you were needy; he had a better idea.

That is how you ended up in Ollie’s leg-crossed lap with your arms thrown around his shoulders, getting more than you were prepared for. Thin, long, cock buried inside of you, possibly as deep as he could get with the angle he had you at. He just continued sorting his little piles with one hand, using the other to keep you upright to the best of his ability, your back arching into his contact. There was nothing that could stop him from finishing his organizing, but he couldn't just leave you wanting. There wasn't a chance he’d let you sit there needy when he could have you sitting wrapped around his cock. It was the perfect compromise, according to him at least who appeared to be barely even affected.

Ollie had started rambling about the records he was putting away the moment you'd sat down, and you had been making conversation with him. By now, though, your ability to form sentences was wavering, and you could feel the restlessness setting in. It had been nearly a half hour, and you had some knowledge of how much work Ollie had left, but any amount longer felt like too much. It didn't seem like a lot, you didn't want to seem like you were asking for too much, but the ache of his weight was becoming impossible to ignore. Holding yourself back from grinding your hips into his was swiftly becoming a harder thing to do.

You readjusted in his lap just like you had every couple of minutes since he had sheathed himself inside of you. Providing the smallest spark of pleasure that made Ollie curse in whisper. Every reaction of his, every tense of his jaw, every time his grip tightened on whatever album he had in his hand, had been concealed to you so far. Something about how poorly concealed your attempts at friction had become was the final straw for his poker face. The way you rolled your hips, making such quiet noise of frustration, was enough to truly distract him. It was just so cute. He squeezed the hand he had on your hip, stilling your movement. He only had a dozen or so records left to sort, but he was beginning to feel the impatience, too.

"Sweet thing, just gimme like- ten more minutes?" He tried to reason, voice so soft and genuine you just might have agreed. You only groaned in response, letting your forehead hit his shoulder. You couldn’t tell if he was teasing or if he was just this content doing what he already was. If it was a play at getting you as needy for him as possible, well it certainly was working as intended. If it wasn’t, then it made you all the more frustrated. You were so unbelievably affected by the feeling of fullness, how was he so casual? The hand at your waist briefly ran up your spine, under the loose cotton draped over your shoulders. He chuckled so gently, careful not to move you any more than intended. “You can take it, promise.”

You shook your head as well as you could with your face pressed against him, tears pricking the corners of your eyes. The feeling of being plastered to him, of his hard cock still, the constant contact, it was becoming overwhelming. He had no clue how desperate you had become, how desperate you were when you had walked in. You almost wished you had just convinced him to come to bed, and asked if you could get off on his thigh. It would have been less frustrating, at least. Your voice was barely louder than a squeak, mind unable to think about anything else besides him fucking you dumb. “Ollie, please.” You simply begged.

You rarely begged unless first asked. In fact, it was rare you did anything but blindly put up with his teasing and drawn out shows of devotion. You’d take whatever he chose to give you, not a peep or complaint. He may not have understood the extent of your urgency, but the utter need dripping from your voice gave him some idea. It was tempting to buck up into you without any warning, your sweet plea sticking in his mind. He wasn't going to let you do a single bit of work once he let you have it, you had waited long enough. There were no plans to keep you in his lap like this, however he wanted to see just how long he could get before giving in to you.

“Awe, love. I’m sure you can.” He grinned, setting down the Ella Fitzgeral he was holding to make sure his hands were free for grabbing hold of you. You simply whined in response, face still hidden in his chest. He couldn’t stop from laughing. It wasn't that he thought your suffering was funny, rather something much worse, he thought it was cute. He thought it was utterly sweet how much you would take for him. You and your pleading whimpers was one of the more adorable things he’d ever seen.

Ollie stared down at you, eyes filled with admiration. He tried not to get sappy when you were engaging in borderline pornographic behaviour, but he just couldn't help himself. There was nowhere he would rather be but here, as close to you as humanly possible. You put yourself in such a vulnerable position for him. You took what he gave you, because you trusted him. You went along with all of his teasing, and vulgar language. You were willing to sit around waiting to see if he’d snap out of his music induced laser focus, just for the chance to get his attention. All because you wanted to be with him. You needed him. It was so sweet that he could feel his heart squeeze as you pulled back and he could look over your yearning face.

"No? You really can't?" His tone was serious, if not breathy, but the soft smile on his face told you that he was cracking, too. You knew these were empty threats, that he wasn't actually looking to make you wait much longer, but it wasn't any less frustrating. He still wasnt fucking you, just seeing how long it would take for you to disagree with him. How much more of his provoking you could put up with. He wrapped his arms around you, almost comforting in nature, hands settling at the small of your back underneath your shirt- his shirt. You felt your face heat up, as if you might start crying for real. You shook your head again. “Not even a couple more? Huh, love?”

Your chest shook with a silent sob. Trying so hard to keep yourself still, not add to your own problem. To be good for him. Every small movement felt like a jolt, and it was becoming more and more difficult keeping yourself from it. Not enough to satisfy and still far too much stimulation for you to take. You couldn't help the way you pressed into him further, or how you clutched at his arms, or how you whimpered when you choked out a reply. “Ollie- please. I need you.”

“God-” Ollie groaned, firmly gripping onto your hips and setting you on your back in what felt like the only blank spot on the floor. He was so careful, trying his hardest not to overwhelm you with his sudden decision to give you what you'd been begging for. One hand flat on the carpet to hold him up, the other kept on your waist, thumb tracing over the skin while he let you adjust to the change. An attempt at grounding, keeping you from entirely losing it. “Couldn't wait any longer, either. Not when you're asking so nicely.”

Your legs instinctively wrapped around his back, subconsciously pulling him further towards you. Your hands remained on his shoulders, tugging him forward, as if you could get any closer. After a moment, he finally moved his hips, the drag of his cock pulling any thoughts you may have had with it. Pulling whimpers from your lips. Trying to make sure it wasn't too much too quick, for either of you, he kept slow. Just barely thrusting into you, shallow and easy. Working up. Gentle eyes watched you, even if your eyes had fluttered closed the moment he'd drawn his hips back. Watching your face as you gasped and panted, frankly enamoured with how pretty you looked.

“You did so good, y’know-” His words got caught in his throat as your hands tightened on him, praise going straight to your cunt. It was rare that he would ramble when you were intimate like this. More into dirty talk in the lead up, less so once he got his hands on you. Maybe it was the wine he had with Nikolai earlier in the day, maybe it was the payoff of all that anticipation, but he had energy that you certainly did not. The unexpected movement where there wasn't took your breath away, let alone your ability to form words. You tried to listen to what he was saying, but that was an increasingly hard task. “Put up with my shit all day. So good for me.”

It was taking every ounce of effort he had to not simply let himself go on you, make the both of you feel good at any cost. Slam his hips into you, no other thought besides pleasing. Knowing you’d needed him so badly that you sat so pretty for so long, he just wanted to give you what you wanted. He knew he wasnt lasting long as-is, though, and the last thing you needed was him tapping out before he could properly take care of you. The only thing he needed you thinking about was how nice he felt pressed inside of you.

The room was uncharacteristically quiet, the record he put on when you walked in now creating static in the corner. The only other thing filling the silence was the slick sound that accompanied every thrust of his cock. The fog forming in your brain tuned out most of his rambling, but he continued telling you every good thing he could think to say. Variations on “you feel so good” scattered between breathy curses as he continued sinking himself as far into you as he could get.

He quickly worked up to a good pace, soon getting a good yelp out of you. He smiled against your neck, happy to hear he was doing his job well. There was always something in the back of his head that was still nervous when the two of you got intimate. Maybe he wasn't what you needed or he was taking more than he gave. All of that washed away when you were clawing at him like this, so comfortable that you didn't have a thought in your head at all. So in need of him alone.

It was encouragement, motivation. The sweet sounds you produced under his touch were all he wanted to hear. Dick twitching every time your voice peaked and cracked. You were utterly irresistible like this, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen, he was sure of it. There wasn't a thing you could do in this moment that would make him want you less, he just wanted to be as close to you as he could. Make you feel so good you couldn't stand it, just as much as he couldn't.

He averted his eyes down to where the two of you met, unable to focus on anything but the way it looked every time he sunk his cock back down. He bit down on his lip, teeth likely breaking skin. He just kept giving it to you, exactly what you’d been craving all day. Just short of getting rough with you. It was addicting, the feeling of your pussy around him. He couldn't help but let himself get a bit sloppy with his movements.

“Ollie, god!” You cried out as he dealt a particularly sharp thrust. Leaning up into him, digging your nails into his skin over the cotton of his t-shirt. He could have cum from that alone, the hand at your side pulling the fibers of the rug between his fingers. It was so simple, but hearing his name from your mouth just did it for him. He had to slow down to catch his breath, almost dizzy from how much it hit him. The slowing of his actions earned an unpleased whine from you, and he only chuckled. 

"You're okay, pretty thing." He breathed, running his fingers up and down your thigh in a way that tickled just barely. Voice so gentle, genuine.  "I'll take care of you."

He continued with the slower pace, using his sudden overexcitement to his advantage. Pulling back as far as he could while remaining inside of you, and jutting his hips to meet yours soon after that. Not rough, rather, hard and quick. His touch was still gentle as ever, even if the feeling of your soft warm walls clamping around him was so intense he could have fucked you into the carpet.

When he initially laid you back, there was an unspoken understanding that neither of you were going to last for too long. After so much idle contact, it was hard not to be close right out of the gate. He certainly wasn’t hiding how close he was now, quiet groans melding into every single thrust he gave. Judging by the unashamed cries and whines, you couldn’t be too far behind him. The hand that trailed your thigh settled on gripping the available flesh with more force than he meant to, causing you to moan through grit teeth. 

“Fuck- you’re so good.” He praised, voice breathy and gentle. Full of desperation, somewhat lovey. He couldn’t help himself, he adored you. He adored that you wanted this from him. You called his name over and over, and it did something fucked up to him every single time you did it. It reminded him that you were his, that you let him get so close to you because you loved him just as much as he loved you. 

“So good-“ He repeated, hips stuttering. He wasn’t sure if you were even hearing him, eyes rolled back. Little sounds to go with his own. Lost in good feeling, lost in him. He didn't care, he was just babbling to himself anyway. “So fucking good.” He went on under his breath.

He sat up on his knees, stomach muscles on display if you had been able to keep your eyes open for any more than a few seconds. His hands settled on your knees, grip firm in an attempt to steady himself. Your face tensed at the change and his new amount of leverage. The angle changing just enough to make a difference.

Watching your face gave him an idea. He pushed your knees back towards your chest, slowly. Choking back a hiss at how much deeper he reached. Hitting spots inside of you that he simply wasn't before, you were in a state of bliss. You looked so damn pretty, so sweet. Bordering on fucked out beneath him, the tips of your fingers finding whatever part of him to grab onto to keep yourself steady.

Every movement he made only gave him more of what he wanted to hear, your shrill moans, and whined swears. It was heaven to him, sensitive dick filling every part of you, hearing you gasp his name over and over. He was so focused on how beautiful you sounded, how amazing you felt around him, he almost didn’t notice when you felt yourself approaching the edge.

"Shit, are you-?" Despite already being as close to each other as possible, he still felt his face warm at the way your muscles tightened. He had flustered himself too much to spit out what he wanted, but he didn’t have to finish the sentence for you to understand. You could only respond with a few short nods, attention exclusively pulled into the warmth spreading through your body.

"Good." He mumbled, returning to a sharper, quicker pace. Finally allowing himself to fuck into you with no hesitation, no thought besides bringing you to a climax. Trying to ignore the thought that he may hurt you, in favor of just listening to you as he brought you closer and closer. His voice became pitchy, cracking as he quietly sent a “Come on, sweet thing.” your way.

You grasped at the fibers of the rug beneath you. The vulgar wet sounds between the two of you only becoming messier as you inched over the edge. Back arching, bringing a moan from him. “Ollie!” You called again, teeth clenched. Cunt squeezing around his cock as he just pumped into you. Shaking hard as you chased the high, waiting patiently for it to crash over you.

“C’mon, please.” You had worked him up so much that he was begging. He wanted so desperately for you to cum before him, but he was struggling to hold on. He needed you grabbing at him for dear life before he could let himself have release. He needed you utterly falling apart before he could even think about himself. “Please.” He repeated, breath taken away.

That was enough for you. Your skin tingled as you fell over the edge. Ollie's hands tightened on your legs, muttering nonsense praises. Repeating over and over, letting you know how good you felt. He held himself off as long as he possibly could, taking in every one of your pretty sounds as he continued fucking into you despite the budding overstimulation you were feeling. He brought himself over, not long after you, teeth clenched, strained groans coming through. He pulled out, releasing onto your lower half.

He gave him a moment to catch his breath before he gently pulled you out of the position, setting your legs flat on the floor. Breathing heavy, your eyes closed, finally getting the satisfaction you'd been craving all day. Ollie ran a shaky hand through his hair, swiftly returning to earth. Gazing down at you like you were the most amazing thing he had ever seen, even if sweaty and utterly fucked out by now.

Quickly, he realized what he had done, and scrambled to his feet, heading to the kitchen to grab a washcloth. He wet it, dripping water on the floor on his way back despite his best efforts to contain it with his other hand. Kneeling on the carpet, he ran the cloth over you, cringing when you hissed at how cold the water was. “Sorry- sorry. I’ll be quick!”

And he was, cleaning up his own mess as fast as he possibly could before simply discarding the washcloth off to the side to be dealt with later. Scooping one arm under your knees, and the other behind your back, he picked you up and took the few steps over to the couch. He set the both of you down on the plush cushions and he cradled your face to his chest.

“You were so good for me,” He grinned, kissing the top of your head, and smoothing over your hair. “I’m sorry I ignored you all day, if I knew you just wanted attention, I woulda' taken a break much sooner.” Voice teasing, his fingers trailed over your arm, down to your wrist. He took your hand and laced your fingers. Thumb running over the back of your hand, his breathing still a bit unstable.

You were both wiped. Usually, he was an absolute gentleman about these things. He'd grab you some real pajamas, and get you both properly cleaned up, and hop into bed. Tonight, though, the time of day just caught up with him. He could see you were already dozing and he couldn't help himself. He dragged one of the decorative pillows from the end of the couch and put it behind his head before pulling a knit blanket over the two of you, saying he'd deal with the consequences of sleeping on the sofa in the morning if it meant he didn't have to move an inch.

[rabbits-bad-habit]

Warm and Dry - Gabe/GN Reader

After getting caught up in the rain, Gabe offers you some of his clothes. He quickly realizes that he's never seen you in his clothes before.

TW: Literally just 2k words of fluffy stuff :)

A/N: Cas is not horny for once?? Wowza. Anyway, been roughhhh, so I thought I'd just write something short n sweet.

You and Gabe had been running around for hours by now. Nooks and crannies, fun little places to hang out in and share a cigarette before getting caught and moving. The plan was originally to just go grab some food and head back to his to find a movie to watch, but you'd gotten caught up in going from place to place and lost track of time. When you were finally satisfied with the day and found your way to a bus stop, it had begun raining and then before the bus arrived, pouring. When you actually got on the bus, you were both utterly soaked, rain water dripping into the fabric seats. Laughing at the almost cartoonish nature of the onset rainstorm.

The sun was setting, but the downpour had also slowed before you got off, making the walk a lot more enjoyable. Nice colors peaking through the thin rain clouds as you made your way along the sidewalk. By the time you got back to Gabe’s it was entirely dark. Walking up the long drive without the light would have proved difficult if not for Gabe, who could’ve gotten up to his house with his eyes closed. He'd done it so many times, snuck in at unreasonable hours so many times over the years, he at first didn't even consider that he'd need to lead you.

It was so quiet, the loudest sound besides your chatting was the crunch of stray gravel under foot. The soft pitter-patter of drizzle hitting the leaves above, sliding off onto the both of you and adding to the weight of your clothes. He noticed that you were cold, of course he noticed. He didn't quite think giving you his equally as wet jacket would do much, though, so he simply carried on relaying the gossip he had as he unlocked and swung open the front door for you.

He called out for his family, but no one was around. The lack of a car out front should have told him, but he didn't want to make assumptions. “Suppose we are alone for now.” He mumbled, adding the ‘for now’ as knowing his family, they wouldn't be out for too long. He followed you inside and ushered you up the stairs to where his room was. He walked closely behind, and you picked up your conversation where it left off. Something about one of his moms friends, he’d overheard basically all of it through the phone, which his mom always had on speaker. You were both laughing about how ridiculous the drama was, and how it was even funnier than he was able to figure this out just by being in the general area.

When you got into his room, he darted for the dresser without a word. Tearing things from one of its drawers and setting them to the side. Obviously looking for something in particular. He stopped for a moment, turning back to look at you. “Wait- do you mind changing into some of my clothes? You shouldn't have to stay all wet. I can try to find something else, if not?” He was very serious about this question, face deadpan. You fought back a grin, he did his absolute best to be careful with things like this. Never assume.

“I don't mind, as long as I can get into something that won't be so cold.” You chuckled, your arms wrapping in on yourself as you appreciated the house itself at least being warm. He dragged a couple shirts from the dresser, haphazardly throwing them onto the bed behind him, then did the same with some sweatpants and what looked like a sweater as well. A set for each of you.

He gathered his clothes into a bunch between his arms and headed off towards the bathroom door. Already ripping the beanie from his head and tossing it off somewhere in the direction of his hamper. “I’ll let you change in here! There’s a sweater there, too, if you’re really that cold.” Shrugging, hoping he had put out proper enough items. He closed and locked the door behind him out of habit.

You fought to get out of your wet clothes, finally folding them and placing them on top of his dresser to try and minimize the amount of other fabric in the room you were getting wet. You took a look over what he left for you. One of his long sleeve shirts, a sage green color, and a grey pair of sweatpants you knew he always slept in. Both were worn and just slightly too big for you, but it was so nice to have something warm on and it all smelled like him. The bit of chaos that ended the night felt like it all slowed down at once. You almost forgot about the sweater, and you smiled when you realized which one it was. He wore this thing all the time, it felt like a compliment that he was allowing you to have it for the night.

“I'm dressed if you are!” You called, laughing at your own choice of words and sitting down on the edge of the bed. Without realizing, you had pulled the sleeves of his sweater over your hands. The door immediately opened. He’d finished changing a good minute or so prior to you, but said nothing as he wanted to wait until you were done. He always hated feeling rushed, he wanted to make sure you didn’t. He was just as happy to be in dry clothing, adjusting the edges of his shirt when he walked out.

You were combing your fingers through your hair when he actually looked over at you. He simply stopped, eyes going big at the sight. Your hair all wet, all relaxed now that you were inside. On his bed, the yellow toned side table lamp casting pretty shadows over your features, cosy in his clothes. It was adorable, and you looked stunning to him. He couldn't find the words he was going to say anymore, caught off guard by his own reaction.

He just stared for a moment before you had a chance to notice that he had returned to the room. It was silly. Most people get this same jaw-dropped feeling when they see their partner in formal clothes or some fancy lingerie, but here he was seeing you in what he wore for pajamas and just as wowed. His clothes. His. You looked so comfortable, so at home. He couldn't help how much his heart melted.

He rushed over to you, only a few steps considering how small his room was. You jumped, not expecting him to be so close so suddenly. He rarely seemed tall compared to you, but sitting on the edge of his bed with him staring down at you with the softest eyes, the difference was noticeable. Before you could get a word out, his hands were on either side of your face. Palms pressed up against your cheeks, fingers just barely reaching under your hair. It was gentle but firm, like you were going to run away or disappear if he let go.

He brought his lips to yours, kissing you with so much passion you could bottle it. It took you a second and a muffled “mm?” to register before you happily kissed him back. Softly placing your hands over his, eyes fluttering closed. The action felt so genuine, pure intentioned. The kiss lasted no more than a few seconds, even if it was obvious the both of you could have continued for much longer. Just soft, a sweet exchange driven by emotion. Pulling back for a moment, he looked over your face. You smiled up at him and he felt like his heart was going to pop. 

He pecked your lips again, an exaggerated smooch that even he was almost surprised about. Acting on impulse, as per usual, showing his affection without hesitation because he knew he could. You had mutual trust, and he put faith in that. The only thing he had to worry about when he was around you was you- making sure he heard all the good things he thought about you. From his brain to yours as soon as possible.

“Have I ever said that you’re beautiful?” He asked, entirely rhetorical as he knew the answer. He mentioned it so often it was probably annoying. He almost couldn't stand to look at you, the love he felt for you overflowing through his body. Physical emotion, spreading through his chest, and making his hands restless. His usual intense and unwavering eye contact broke as he took a couple deep breaths. His own grin spanning his entire face no matter how hard he tried not to let it, to seem cool.

“Not a single time, no.” You chuckled, joking right back. He sat down on the bed next to you, up towards the headboard. He fiddled with his nails absentmindedly, his eyes still not quite yet returning to your face. He was thankful for that when he noticed that you still seemed cold, a gentle shiver in your shoulders. You might not have even noticed that you were still so cold just yet, but he saw it. Likely the after effect of not just being out in the early spring air, but also being entirely drenched.

“You still cold?” He asked, eyebrows knit together. Yeah, you absolutely were. It was that lingering cold where the only option is piling under blankets or sitting directly in front of a heater, even once you were inside. Might not have noticed had he not. He wasn't, even though he was just wearing a tshirt and sweatpants, the big puffer jacket that he always brought out in the colder months preemptively protecting him from it.

“Yeah, a little.” You hugged your arms around yourself, now purposely tucking your hands into the sleeves of Gabe’s sweater. He nodded in reply, immediately getting an idea. Throwing his legs over and onto the bed and scooching over to the other side, he excitedly motioned for you to come closer. You curiously followed, and laid down next to him. He grabbed for the comforter, pulling it over the both of you, leaving the undersheet bunched up at the end of the mattress. You cuddled into the soft fabric, much like his clothes, this smelled just as much like him. There wasn't much time to process, Gabe quickly wrapped his arms around you, tight and sweet.

He pulled you into his chest, resting his chin on the top of your head. He was warm, and his hands held onto you so firmly. So secure. He just sat, allowing himself to drink in the weight of you between his arms. By now you were realizing you weren't just chilly, but tired. It had been a long day before the storm had hit. You were very happy where you were, cuddled up to him.

There was a nice silence. Neither of you spoke for a moment. Just enjoying the shared space and body heat, appreciating each other. Not a single thing in that room moved for a minute. Just the two of you, after a nice day of exploring and spending time. Listening to each others breathing. In the end it was Gabe who broke the silence.

“I love you.” His voice was soft, and endlessly sincere. The words felt good in his mouth, the shapes of each letter satisfying against his tongue. He couldn't help the way he repeated it. Once, then again, and then again, right after each other. Light blush still dusting his cheeks the longer he looked at you in that shirt. His shirt. The urge to say it again only getting stronger.

“And I love you, Gabe.” You replied, pulling back and admiring the subtle features of his face. You could have gotten lost in how much feeling there was in his expression. You’d do anything for that man. You’d do anything if it meant you could stay where you were. “You wanna take a nap before your mom gets back?”